So, I made this ridiculous picture for fun. Lapel record almost finished, and I can’t wait for you guys to hear. #lapel #music #atlindie

So, I made this ridiculous picture for fun. Lapel record almost finished, and I can’t wait for you guys to hear. #lapel #music #atlindie



Stella

from a collection I’ve been writing

Oh mother Sara
I do know that love will bring
That danger you speak of
Now that you are left trembling
From letting it dig too deep into your soul

I have witnessed your terror
Your cursing of the jealous man
You once shared young pleasures with
And what’s more
The passion that brought me here

But I must ask, dear mother
How long shall I steep in the arms of another
Before we lose pieces of ourselves?
How many times can our lips touch
Before we should fear drowning?



What ever it is they’re doing, it’s working. #princessrosie #charlietheferocious #puppies #dogs

What ever it is they’re doing, it’s working. #princessrosie #charlietheferocious #puppies #dogs



Out of the Bottle

Since my graduation from Kennesaw State this past May, I’ve been working on an album for Lapel tentatively titled Out of the Bottle. As the completion of this record is drawing near, I thought I’d write a quick summary on what to expect from this project.

About year ago, I was starting the last year of my undergraduate degree. I spent the whole of fall trying to find my voice as a producer (which I’ve been doing for years), and I awoke many of those days with a tight jaw from the anxiety I was sleeping on. I experimented desperately with sub-genres of electronic music, released tracks like “Alone At Night” and “Every Devil”, and never seemed to make a song that I could truly be proud of. I fought with myself, questioned the validity and value of each song that I wrote and recorded, and some days, the doubts I had about my artistry made me consider quitting altogether.

Now here we are a year later, and I’ve stopped questioning the value of the music I create. The truth is, it isn’t up to me. The individual listener has to decide whether or not my music holds value. In my opinion, Out of the Bottle will end up being the best music I’ve produced and some of the best songs I’ve written, and I hope I’ll still be proud of it for years after it’s released. I probably won’t, but it’s a goal of mine to be a fan of my own art for as long as I can.

The artist needs to believe in his work. Let the audience decide if it’s worth anything.

Much love,
Marcus Dean Terry



Denton, TX.

Denton, TX.



leaveyouapen:

So It Is AllI believe with all my heartThat our births into this universeAnd that each sharp cry falling firstFrom our infant tongue and diaphragmShakes the dirt and rock beneathAnd we are justified to be until we are no longerWhen the crying dies downThe wanting begins in its placeAnd that hunger is necessityBecause it is at allSo we grow as it growsWe twist with its twisting
So life is absurd and goodAnd its many hosts and visitorsGrowing, changing, bendingScrambling to find their rootsOr to destroy themAll absurd in our short existence
And we guests know with the wantingWith the growing and changingComes the death of all we’ve collectedThe final dance of the aging spiritTaking its last bow to settle the accountsReturning the borrowed dirt and rock from below
So it is all good and absurdThat we are no longer wantingWhen there is no place for us to wantAnd it is lovely and well thatWe can no longer bend or stretch or changeWhen we are no longer
Written by Marcus Dean Terry (Click Here for More)

A poem from a collection I’m writing.

leaveyouapen:

So It Is All

I believe with all my heart
That our births into this universe
And that each sharp cry falling first
From our infant tongue and diaphragm
Shakes the dirt and rock beneath
And we are justified to be until we are no longer

When the crying dies down
The wanting begins in its place
And that hunger is necessity
Because it is at all
So we grow as it grows
We twist with its twisting

So life is absurd and good
And its many hosts and visitors
Growing, changing, bending
Scrambling to find their roots
Or to destroy them
All absurd in our short existence

And we guests know with the wanting
With the growing and changing
Comes the death of all we’ve collected
The final dance of the aging spirit
Taking its last bow to settle the accounts
Returning the borrowed dirt and rock from below

So it is all good and absurd
That we are no longer wanting
When there is no place for us to want
And it is lovely and well that
We can no longer bend or stretch or change
When we are no longer

Written by Marcus Dean Terry (Click Here for More)

A poem from a collection I’m writing.



Staying healthy, friends.

Staying healthy, friends.



Chattooga Belle Farms. Might come back tomorrow if there’s not a wedding.

Chattooga Belle Farms. Might come back tomorrow if there’s not a wedding.



For those who still read poetry, I’ve really enjoyed this so far. #poetry

For those who still read poetry, I’ve really enjoyed this so far. #poetry



Unlike You

Oh Debora
You found me in a drunken state
And not one of wines but of wonder
Wondrously troubled thoughts that fermented
In my need for madness
My desire to be as cold and pointed as my idols

So I found you as well, Debora
Searched for nearly two hours and took a chance
On you, and it’s still too early to say
Whether or not we might be friends
I am wary of the poets, you see

I know too well the wanderlust
That endlessly aching and thirsty spirit
And unlike you, Debora,
I never learned how to speak to the dead



This is the Stumphouse Mountain Tunnel. Unfortunately, there was a gate keeping me from making my way to it’s deepest point, but still very cool.

This is the Stumphouse Mountain Tunnel. Unfortunately, there was a gate keeping me from making my way to it’s deepest point, but still very cool.



And I convinced one of those little butterflies to hang out with me a while. You can’t tell with it’s wings folded, but these guys were a really cool blue color. They also swarmed near a snake I wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Lovely little friends.

And I convinced one of those little butterflies to hang out with me a while. You can’t tell with it’s wings folded, but these guys were a really cool blue color. They also swarmed near a snake I wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Lovely little friends.



Hiked for about an hour to reach this lovely thing and the little blue butterflies swirling around it.

Hiked for about an hour to reach this lovely thing and the little blue butterflies swirling around it.



I’m rowing this ship. #notqualified #mobydick #help @tyleriberdy

I’m rowing this ship. #notqualified #mobydick #help @tyleriberdy



Building A Home

This thing I do
Building a home
Turning little truths into strings of melodies
Coughing out parts of my soul
Marking every piece with my own blood
Letting those kids eat before me
My children
I love them more than I love myself
So be very careful when you ask
What I am willing to do
For my chosen kin