Eric Whitacre

That name. Need I say more? As for right now, I submit that I do NOT.


Okay, I’ll say a little more.

Eric Whitacre. He’s one of those people I think God has blessed with an extra spark of creation. An extra little boost of genius. He’s a  master of chord voicing, THE master of cluster chords, and singing anything he composes is simply an amazing experience. I would say more and try to eloquently describe my affection for good ole Eric, but I just spent the last three hours finishing a “words and music” playwriting assignment, in which we had to write a poem and then a scene based on two different pieces of instrumental music. I’m pretty eloquent-ed out, and I’m not even happy with the finished product. It was one of those… I had a really good idea, then I couldn’t figure out how to convey it, so I wrestled with it right up until the deadline kind of things. Still needed more time.



Anyway, the two pieces of music I chose were The Crisis by Ennio Morricone and Lux Aurumque by the lovely Eric Whitacre. I utilized a freedom in expression/dance analogy… let’s just not talk about it. Let’s talk about Eric Whitacre. I put the link to his virtual choir, and if you’ve never checked out his virtual choirs, then you should. Especially if you’ve ever been in a good choir, this is a cool thing to see.

Other Whitacre I’ve had the privelege to sing in the past with a good choir:

Water Night 

Sleep  – this is one of those trippy virtual choirs that he does.


Really, I am surprised how much I miss singing with a choir. There’s a unique sense of unity that you don’t get with many other experiences.

Also, can we just add that Eric’s good looks and easy going, witty sense of humor (perceived via FB and Twitter..) make him just an all-around awesome person? Plus he’s married to Hila Plittman, one of the greatest modern sopranos specializing in performance of new work. They just seem… cool. And interesting. They live in London.


Well, there’s my random stream-of-consciousness rant at 12:30am. I told myself I wouldn’t write those on this blog, but… oh well. Hopefully you’ve been encouraged in my spontaneity towards thoughtfully, artistically composed music (check out that Spark of Creation link too… don’t wanna miss that Natalie Weiss/Stephen Schwartz combo amid your Whitacre-induced-awe).

Until I have time to write a well formulated post based on my many stored-up blogging ideas,



one breath of the battle

Take a deep breath, fill my lungs.

In my heart the black specks of leaden hurt stir, suspended momentarily.

When I exhale, the specks swirl around, dispersing to every corner

a heart-shaped snow globe.

And in that moment, there is beautiful, warm relief.


But then the heavy specks of lead settle back down, replacing the ache, weighing down into the funneled part of my purple heart.

And the battle wages on.

Purple heart for bruise, and not bravery. And why not bravery? Why, Heart?


If only to scream at her, “man up!!”

If only she would pick herself up

off the




If only she would listen. Listen to Reason.


My brain, she’s with me.

Leader in this revolt against my heart.

A little more military than is good, at times. Well intended, aggressive in approach. Fiercely protective and seeking reconciliation, reestablished harmony. But

we all know

that in the end

the heart wins

it always does


Little fickle crybaby of an organ — to the left! it pulls. to the right! it tugs.

Its strings threaten to control my hands, my feet; a marionette at its mercy.


But yet. Heart and mind forget

their quiet counterpart, the secret weapon of each battle

intuitive and humble, the wise young soul

BFF of the heart, she’s the hope in the struggle


Soul’s the name, intrinsic motivation is her game.

she seeks God always – perhaps she knows she will be with Him always


When mind and heart are staging World War Three, my soul flees

The soul, espionage of war, seeker of healing and peace.

She goes to the presence of YHWH, communing, spirit with Spirit.

I AM, He understands the war of the flesh

He’s lived it Himself, He knows

the inner



BUT He is the one person who has ever claimed victory.

The greatest war hero

He whispers sweet secrets of His success in her ear

and my soul, my spirit, finds peace, promise of a hope and a future. 


The battle of heart and mind persists

But the whole can be stilled

I am (in)stilled with the Rock, the foundation

peace washes over me

as I inhale

specks of hurt

relieved by grace


and the battle





Half-formed expression partially from my journal. Intentionally vague. Me feling artsy. How fun! Enjoy.

Have you ever fought an inner battle? What was that like for you?  

I felt like changing my theme.

Yep I haven’t posted for a long time.

Life has been crazy!

But I have a lot to say, so I’ll be posting soon hopefully.

😀 das all!

p.s. if you want to see where I’ve been blogging instead of here (the blog that takes all of my time), feel free to check it out here.

Hahahah. In case you’re desperately wanting to know more about museums.

Life of an art history major.