“this song was written for christina grimmie after she passed away tragically. i needed to write this song. thank you to my good friend, zac poor, who was brave enough to take on the challenge of writing it with me. my heart was & is still so heavy when i think of her not being with us. however, i am still comforted knowing that i’ll get to see her again someday in heaven. my prayers go out to her family & loved ones.
even though this song had specific meaning, more recently i’m overwhelmed at the pain & the brokenness in the world today, & so this is really just me grieving. at all of it. life is so short. thanks for listening, i love you guys.
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” ~ Revelation 21:4″
“And the more I come to know these people, the worse it is. Because, on the whole, I don’t hate them. And some I like. And a lot of them are so damaged that my natural instinct would be to protect them. But all of them must die if I’m to save Peeta.”
This video is in memory of the amazingly talented and loving Christina Grimmie. I’m honored to have known and worked with her. This video took a little longer because I wanted to make something special. I hope you enjoy this mashup of some of my favorite of her original songs as well as 2 covers that will always remind me of her. Love, Kurt
Songs In This Medley: 1. I Bet You Don’t Curse God 2. Find Me 3. Liar Liar 4. Just A Dream 5. Stay With Me 6. Advice 7. With Love 8. Wrecking Ball
- Kurt Hugo Schneider & Sam Tsui’s “Christina Grimmie medley”
After several nights on the road, around Marian and Roland every minute of every day, he decides to take a shower. They’ve all been running baths instead when they can, one slightly more familiar thing in a sea of unknown ones. But in this hotel room, the bathroom has double doors separating it from the bedroom, and with the steam and the sound of the water, it feels like his mind finally has the space for thoughts other than navigation and finding them their next meal and keeping Roland calm.
Marian and Roland have both fallen asleep, while he lay in bed wondering if he’d prefer to have the dream that often visits him at night, of Regina running into his arms and her smile and her hair between his fingers and her body solid against his, but then he always has to wake from those dreams, and perhaps not sleeping at all is preferable to the pain of realizing she isn’t truly there.
He doesn’t have the intention, when he steps into the steaming water and closes his eyes against the fluorescent light. But when he does close them it is seconds before he is imagining the cheap, glaring lights to be the dimmed candlelight from Regina’s vault, the walls around him to be the tasteful neutrals he imagines her house must be filled with, frosted glass and taupe and soft lighting.
Her murmuring voice, soft and low and irresistible as she speaks to him in the last lingering hours of darkness before dawn, her silky hair between his fingers, and that disbelieving, elusive smile spreading across her face as she kisses his neck, his shoulder, her soft skin and her gentle touch and the determined furrow of her brow.
Her body pressing into his, fingers digging into his skin, gasps falling from her lips, her smell and her warmth the feel of her surrounding him.
And before he has even consciously chosen it, he has wrapped his hand around himself, his movements frantic and desperate and not nearly as wonderful as he remembers Regina’s hand being, that night in her vault, Regina’s lips, but the memory of it only urges him faster. He stays quiet as he pants and shivers, depressingly, frustratingly still aware that none of this is real, that when he opens his eyes they will be fluorescent lights and a clear glass shower door and he will be alone.
He comes with a gasp, her name half-formed on his lips, and he presses his eyes shut even more firmly as he comes back to himself, breaths heaving in and out of his chest as he chases the memory of her lips and her smile. It keeps slipping away from him, like a thin fabric on a breeze, and every time he reaches for it, it flutters farther away.
And he thinks again of the page he left her with, her hope, and considers, not for the first time, how he has no other image of his love, nothing to grasp but his own memories and his aching heart.
He presses his forehead into the cold tile, the water lukewarm rather than hot at this point, and lets out a groan that turns into an angry, frustrated sob. Another. And another. For his guilt for thinking of himself when he has a family to care for in the next room, for his shame for not feeling guilty, for his agony to think of Regina alone right now, the possibility of their life together a dream they shared for mere seconds before it was all snatched away. He cries silently until the water turns cold, his palms flattened on the tile. And then he lets the water run over his face, turns off the tap, swallows past the lump in his throat. There will be no breaking down in front of his family, he tells himself, no showing them the helplessness that has stolen its way into his bones.
He’s wrung out his exhausted nerves and muscles enough that when he returns to bed, he falls asleep at last.
He hears his name, a hopeful question carried to him on the wind.
He calls back to her breathlessly, and when she responds, his name has become joyful and certain.
He laughs, and runs towards the sound of her voice.
Celebrating an extraordinary, complex, irreplaceable soul, on his birthday and every day.
♥ Happy Birthday, dear George… You are loved and missed… ♥
Thinking of George with much love and gratitude; and thinking of Olivia and Dhani also. The world was blessed to know George, and to be privy to his exceptional talent and kindness. Infinite gratitude to George for so much more than words can begin to say. Today, and each day, his music will be playing, brightening and enlightening the world in that way only he could. Undoutedly, there will always be a space in many hearts for George.
Bruce Springsteen performs Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door
2015 MusiCares Person Of The Year tribute to Bob Dylan
Incredible! He did that song like the record, something I myself have never tried. I never even thought it was worth it. Maybe never had the manpower in one band to pull it off. I don’t know, but I never thought about it. To tell you the truth, I’d forgotten how the song ought to go. Bruce pulled all the power and spirituality and beauty out of it like no one has ever done. He was faithful, truly faithful to the version on the record, obviously the only one he has to go by. I’m not a
nostalgic person, but for a second there it all came back, Peckinpah,
Slim Pickens, Katy Jurado, James Coburn, the dusty lawless streets of
Durango, my first wife, my kids when they were small. For a second it
all came back … it was that powerful. Bruce is a deep conscientious cat
and the evidence of that was in the performance. He can get to your
heart, my heart anyway. – Bob Dylan
“I think people who truly can live a life in music are telling the world, ‘You can have my love, you can have my smiles. Forget the bad parts, you don’t need them. Just take the music, the goodness, because it’s the very best, and it’s the part I give most willingly.’” - George Harrison, Musician, November 1987 [x]
“What I feel I can’t say….” Thank you for your love, your smiles, your music, your goodness, and more than can ever be put into words. You are sorely missed. ♥ Sending warm thoughts to Olivia and Dhani also.