split the difference

I am thirty-five years old.  My only sibling is three years younger.

That's thirty-two years on this planet together.  So far, it's been a trip.

Recently, people have started to see us together and remark on how much we look alike.  That's a brand new development for us.  We're much more used to tempering the shock and awe that follows our claim that we are, in fact, brother and sister.  You see, we're not exactly similar on all fronts.

The going observation about Bo and me is that we're Polar Opposites.  It's true, we walk on different roads most days, and from the superficial to serious aspects of who we are: we're individuals.  I have a cat; He has dogs.  My hair is straight as a bone; His is curly.  I'm petite; He's Herculean.  I'm high-strung; He appears mellow.  We are divided on the issue of Steely Dan (I'll let you guess who's on which side of that fence).  The list goes on, and we're constantly reminded by our families and friends of just how dissimilar we two are. 

But, we grew up on the same farm in South Florida, eating the same fruit off of the same trees.  While we do have different biological fathers, we share a mother, and she is no mute force.  We are both blue-eyed, though, my color is close to that of denim and his has a touch of turquoise swirled in.  We are both coffee people.  We both eat oatmeal for breakfast everyday.  And, quite seriously, we both kneel at the altar of Michael McDonald, and know he can do no wrong.

I just had an opportunity to look at my other half through a new lens; It was that of his own music.  Bo and I have played together for about fifteen years now, on and off, but the music has been primarily written and sung by me, while Bo has always kept the steady beats on drums.  In recent years, he's truly come into his own as a songwriter and we just put a dent in what will be his first full-length album.  I'm acting as engineer and co-producer.  Since I'm not performing on this project yet (though, I will play some guitar and sing as well), I get to really listen.  Listening is what making a good record is about, if you ask me.  It's not my moment to shine, it's his.  I've been doing my best to help him tell his story through these songs by way of giving the powerful words a strong platform to launch from.  Through that process, I've heard one undeniable thing: similarity.  We're not so different after all.  

I feel like I was born into extremes, and from there, I've operated from extreme perspectives.  I'm not sure if I can really say that I see everything as "black and white", as I have very little relationship with either of those colors, truth be told.  (I'm from Miami, and we celebrate color.)  I can say that I definitely lean to the light and dark, though.  Other members of my family have a better grasp on the gradients between.  My brother, for instance, lives in shades of blue.  He wants blue water, blue skies, and blue walls when he goes to bed at night.  I'm learning about this.  My own color palette is changing lately, and I find myself drawn to things that I never was before.  I enjoy the shift, and I have new awareness about how other people might feel or think.  Does it make my tendency to want pink polka-dots on my front steps wrong?  Hell no.  It just allows me to appreciate someone else's simple light grey stoop for what it is: simple.

Maybe it's about keeping our eyes and ears open.  And our hearts.  Maybe the rainbow allows room for all of us, somewhere.  And maybe we're allowed to explore that entire spectrum throughout our lifetime, without being ashamed of where we used to be within it or might want to go next.  The basic theory around color tells us there are pairings that are scientifically compatible.  These are called Complimentary.  Our brains make sense of these duos when juxtaposed.  The same is true in music.  In many cases, the third note above another note will create what we know as Harmony.  They will never be the same note; They will always be different, but your ear loves them together.  I'm given great comfort by these truths, as I feel like it takes the pressure off of us to conform to one another's ways.  We can maintain our E flat in purple and someone else can rock a G in yellow, and it can be perfect.  We can do this.  Today, I'm going to try to focus on the harmony.  The bad notes are out there, as is a whole world of beige, but they don't have to be dominant.  And when things are dissonant, there's a reason.  Around here, it usually means that someone needs to re-tune.

Thanks for listening.

xo, buick audra, singer, songwriter, sister