Sheesh. Big tears at this my friend. One of the blessings of autism is also its curse, never ever knowing the way people ACTUALLY see you, never having the mechanism to know, or even (sometimes in a way I wish was different) care, how that is. I care at this though, and to hear this matters more than you know.
There are few people I place in the space where I held and will always hold Glen. You, and your best bud Gregory, are two of those people. What you do reminds me of Glens song Fallen From the Sky when the lyrics say “ you must have fallen from the sky, you must have come here in the pouring rain , you lead so many to the light..” That is you, Tyler ; and as I told my partner through tears discussing Glen and his impact, that is what I hope I do in my life, and art.
I love Our Town, and was lucky enough to play Emily in a small but mighty local production, and it is probably one of the highlights of my time on stage
"I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another." Emily says, sobbing, and while in her words it is the beauty and the joy of the fleeting moments with her family, I think it is also true that we sometimes miss the full complexity of humanity - the darker side too
I'll admit I'm not thoroughly familiar with Glen, having mostly begun hearing of him upon his passing (though I'd heard some of his music prior), and so I am hesitant to admit here that my introduction to him as a man was alongside an overview of his relationship to Marketa (which in his own words was troubling), and purported interest in young women... Comparing that to this heartfelt tribute is proving a challenge to me. But his actions are not the focus of why I wanted to respond.
Really, I want to respond to you, to your nature, to your longing: "I hope I'm giving more than I'm getting" and "I hope I... turn my suffering into songs" -- in those thoughts, my friend, I can guarantee you not only meet, but exceed the goal, helping others reshape the harmony of their sufferings as well.
Regardless of the rest, regardless of the sorrow and myriad strains of grief and our own propensity to "ignorance and blindness" (as Simon Stimson would say), we still look to the stars above us.
"Scholars haven't settled the matter yet, but they seem to think there are no living beings up there. Just chalk... or fire. Only this one is straining away all the time to make something of itself... Hm... Eleven o'clock in Grover's Corners. -- You get a good rest, too. Good night."
Oh I woulda loved to see you perform this! I only briefly now saw some of the things about his relationship with Marketa, and honestly didn't know where things began, when, or how. I hadn't seen much of the depth beyond that, so I am sorry if I missed what you know and what made it troubling for you. Saying that, and about the rest of what you said: Your kind words here are so very appreciated, so very humbling, and made me cry. To think I'd be thought of in a kind way if I should go, WHEN I should go, is a humbling and beautiful and intimate thing, and it moves me forward. Just forward in all this work. Thank you for this.
I remember when Glen Hansard became widely known in 2007 for his creation, the song “Falling Slowly”, and his acting role in the wonderful movie Once. He seemed genuinely surprised at how much interest there was in something he had poured out his soul to create. I remember an interview after the success of Once, where he expressed genuine concern about leaving his band mates behind and how success would affect his songwriting. He was transitioning in his life, while both celebrating and mourning the change. Almost pre-ordained (yet mysterious ), it was yet another example of where the energy of creativity and art came together in some sort of appreciated perfection… like the birth of a child.
Most believe we are born into this world with both a physical form and a spiritual energy. As we move through life, we naturally go through several profound transitions transitions: from birth to awareness, awareness to insight, insight to responsibility, responsibility to unawareness, and ultimately, from unawareness to death. Each threshold marks a transformation of both body and spirit. We may mourn or celebrate these transitions at any stage of our journey. We celebrate the thrill of discovery and the warmth of relationships, just as we mourn the loss of innocence or the physical toll that time exacts upon us. No matter our age or our current phase, our energy radiates in positive or negative forms—but it never ceases to exist. Life and death form an unbroken circle where energy flows from nature, dwells within the body, and eventually returns to the earth. Death is not an end, but another phase of this cycle. This energy does not dissipate, and many possess the ability to connect with it. Because of this, my counsel to those who are grieving - is that mourning the physical loss of a friend or family member is entirely natural, but we do not have to lose our connection to their energy or spirit. It remains among us, always.
I have always believed this about death, about energy, about what we are and where we go and where all that spirit goes. This means a lot Kevin, thank you.
I try every day to really be present with life. Staying in the present is my greatest challenge in life. My anxiety tends to pull me into the past or future. I worry often about things that don't really even matter. Letting go, surrendering, and trusting the timing of the universe is difficult. But every day I will try. To surrender, to trust, to stay present, to seek, to notice, to be truly alive.
"I hope I’m giving more than I am getting"
You are, Mr. Gregson. You most assuredly are. ❤️
I so very hope so. All I can do is keep trying my best. Thanks for showing up here.
Tyler, you are singular. Just like Glen was singular. Believe in yourself the way so many of us believe in you. ❤️ You make the world a better place.
Sheesh. Big tears at this my friend. One of the blessings of autism is also its curse, never ever knowing the way people ACTUALLY see you, never having the mechanism to know, or even (sometimes in a way I wish was different) care, how that is. I care at this though, and to hear this matters more than you know.
There are few people I place in the space where I held and will always hold Glen. You, and your best bud Gregory, are two of those people. What you do reminds me of Glens song Fallen From the Sky when the lyrics say “ you must have fallen from the sky, you must have come here in the pouring rain , you lead so many to the light..” That is you, Tyler ; and as I told my partner through tears discussing Glen and his impact, that is what I hope I do in my life, and art.
Goodness gravy. I do not feel worthy of this placement. Thank you, so much for this.
I love Our Town, and was lucky enough to play Emily in a small but mighty local production, and it is probably one of the highlights of my time on stage
"I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another." Emily says, sobbing, and while in her words it is the beauty and the joy of the fleeting moments with her family, I think it is also true that we sometimes miss the full complexity of humanity - the darker side too
I'll admit I'm not thoroughly familiar with Glen, having mostly begun hearing of him upon his passing (though I'd heard some of his music prior), and so I am hesitant to admit here that my introduction to him as a man was alongside an overview of his relationship to Marketa (which in his own words was troubling), and purported interest in young women... Comparing that to this heartfelt tribute is proving a challenge to me. But his actions are not the focus of why I wanted to respond.
Really, I want to respond to you, to your nature, to your longing: "I hope I'm giving more than I'm getting" and "I hope I... turn my suffering into songs" -- in those thoughts, my friend, I can guarantee you not only meet, but exceed the goal, helping others reshape the harmony of their sufferings as well.
Regardless of the rest, regardless of the sorrow and myriad strains of grief and our own propensity to "ignorance and blindness" (as Simon Stimson would say), we still look to the stars above us.
"Scholars haven't settled the matter yet, but they seem to think there are no living beings up there. Just chalk... or fire. Only this one is straining away all the time to make something of itself... Hm... Eleven o'clock in Grover's Corners. -- You get a good rest, too. Good night."
Oh I woulda loved to see you perform this! I only briefly now saw some of the things about his relationship with Marketa, and honestly didn't know where things began, when, or how. I hadn't seen much of the depth beyond that, so I am sorry if I missed what you know and what made it troubling for you. Saying that, and about the rest of what you said: Your kind words here are so very appreciated, so very humbling, and made me cry. To think I'd be thought of in a kind way if I should go, WHEN I should go, is a humbling and beautiful and intimate thing, and it moves me forward. Just forward in all this work. Thank you for this.
I remember when Glen Hansard became widely known in 2007 for his creation, the song “Falling Slowly”, and his acting role in the wonderful movie Once. He seemed genuinely surprised at how much interest there was in something he had poured out his soul to create. I remember an interview after the success of Once, where he expressed genuine concern about leaving his band mates behind and how success would affect his songwriting. He was transitioning in his life, while both celebrating and mourning the change. Almost pre-ordained (yet mysterious ), it was yet another example of where the energy of creativity and art came together in some sort of appreciated perfection… like the birth of a child.
Most believe we are born into this world with both a physical form and a spiritual energy. As we move through life, we naturally go through several profound transitions transitions: from birth to awareness, awareness to insight, insight to responsibility, responsibility to unawareness, and ultimately, from unawareness to death. Each threshold marks a transformation of both body and spirit. We may mourn or celebrate these transitions at any stage of our journey. We celebrate the thrill of discovery and the warmth of relationships, just as we mourn the loss of innocence or the physical toll that time exacts upon us. No matter our age or our current phase, our energy radiates in positive or negative forms—but it never ceases to exist. Life and death form an unbroken circle where energy flows from nature, dwells within the body, and eventually returns to the earth. Death is not an end, but another phase of this cycle. This energy does not dissipate, and many possess the ability to connect with it. Because of this, my counsel to those who are grieving - is that mourning the physical loss of a friend or family member is entirely natural, but we do not have to lose our connection to their energy or spirit. It remains among us, always.
Every sunset,
Energy transforms, not lost,
Life’s spirit flows on.
I have always believed this about death, about energy, about what we are and where we go and where all that spirit goes. This means a lot Kevin, thank you.
I try every day to really be present with life. Staying in the present is my greatest challenge in life. My anxiety tends to pull me into the past or future. I worry often about things that don't really even matter. Letting go, surrendering, and trusting the timing of the universe is difficult. But every day I will try. To surrender, to trust, to stay present, to seek, to notice, to be truly alive.
This was a beautiful tribute among beautiful tributes. I hope, wherever he is, Glen feels the warmth and gratitude poured out for him.
I hope the very same. What a guy, what a voice, what a message.