play us a song, you're the piano man...

So who says that seeing a show from the very, very back row - yep, no one behind but pure wall - can't be an energizing and moving experience? Not I, that's for sure. So I finally made it to the "MCI Center" (not before it changed names, but that's besides the point) and I finally got to see Billy Joel solo. No offense to Sir Elton John, but Billy Joel stole the show the first time around and it was nice to see him solo.

Billy's head might have gotten shinier with age, but his presence on the stage has definitely not done the same. I think he is definitely prepared for flag corps try-outs based on the slick moves he was pulling off with the microphone stand. Truly though he shines live. I have so much admiration for musicians who can come on stage and deliver, time and time again. It's so great to see someone like him who can pull it off -- who's not just another voice that relies on the magic in the sound studio to doctor over some strained vocals. No repairs needed here.

Kudos to Heather for making the hike to the top of the arena with me -- and what a view it was! We were talking about the connection between memories and songs. I was just searching to see if I could find the setlist online -- no such luck (I guess all those Tori Amos concerts got me spoiled -- guess not everyone's so "hard core" on the set list thing!)...

Anyhow, I wish I could find the name of the second song. I don't know why, but it was then I really started to remember what had gotten me into Billy Joel in the first place. There are few tapes I remember owning ... the Bangles, Debbie Gibson, Randy Travis (yes, I am from the South!), and Billy Joel's Greatest Hits. I remember my aunt had given it to my mom, and somehow it seemed to never leave my room. How I ended up with it gets a little blurry, but some details aren't so important...

Sitting there, looking down on thousands of heads swaying side to side, I couldn't help but remember my aunt. With all of the time I've spent lately absorbed either in work in general or on my photography courses, I've stopped being so focused on my aunt. For so long, I thought it was going to be something which I could not get past -- but what started off as almost a haunting, sad memory transition to more of an admiration and ability to instead be surrounded by positive memories. There's something comforting though in having little things that forever connect you to someone's memory in a positive way. It's like how Heather and I were talking about how we can't think of places or people without associating them to music. To me, life's always been a connection of photos and music, woven together. Interestingly although we were never extremely close, my aunt and I were somehow connected by both. Tonight as I sat in that big, filled arena I couldn't help but think of her and how she'd have really loved the concert. How she'd really love to see the things I've been able to accomplish thus far in my photography. How she'd love to compare the before and after shots, and how excited she'd be to see where I'm going. I'd like to think she's looking down and that she'd be proud.

And so it goes...

And so it goes...

And you're the only one who knows...