Edition #22
I Will Conquer Darkness and Make It Shine

Being united for human rights for all and every individual’s dignity does not only make a real difference in someone’s life, it is also a way to stand against all forms of tyranny, whatever it may be and wherever it may take place.

I must have written and rewritten this text about a hundred times now… It’s always difficult for me to address human rights issues without being either too deeply involved emotionally or angrily reactionary. Having friends all over that beautifully welcoming and generously inviting region makes the horrors presently happening in Ukraine even more soul-wrecking for me. Like most of the people watching this unbearably perfidious human tragedy unfold, I just can’t fathom the violence and hatred of this barbaric invasion. As much as I am completely revolted by Putin’s tyranny over Ukrainian citizens, I’m also filled with a profound sense of compassion towards the general Russian population who is not only kept in total ignorance of the crimes being perpetrated on its neighbor, but who is the invisible victim of an implacably oppressive and immensely despotic regime. The images, like the powerless revulsion they carry, might be too heavy to look at, but they are the abomination and infamy of a world we have ignored for so long — for too long. And now, we are disgustingly reminded of how fragile our “live and let live” type of freedom truly is. We may be complaining about the escalating gas price and the rocketing inflation we have to “endure”… But civilians, hospitals, shelters, Red Cross offices, are being turned into fighters and soldiers trapped in an oppressive system of corruption and greed, killed in all but dignified ways, if there ever was one to begin with.

is it ever too late to offer a gesture designed through the honesty of your condition and motivation?

I’m always wondering if there is something that I can do, or more precisely what can I do that wouldn’t be too insignificant before that raging beast. I’ve been a pretty vocal human rights activist in the past, standing on every front line. Until I realized that I was becoming a bitter product of that all-against-everything lifestyle. While I am in no way judgmental towards others, I just ended up realizing that my positions, if noble on the surface, were more about trying to give some counterpoise to the inner war I was facing — or probably trying to avoid — by dressing it up in some weekender moralism. If that self-admission made me ashamed and disgusted, it was also incredibly liberating: I was able to look into the reasons I had to scream or whisper, and addressed some of the pain I was covering up within the context of a clamoring crowd. The noises I thought needed to be covered slowly emerged as the sounds I had to listen to. And from that instant, I started to muse about offering an honest contribution to whatever moved me, disturbed me, or lifted me up. I started paying attention to the elements creating reactive violence deep within me and whatever could be at the root of that fury emerging in my heart. The emotions are still blurry sometimes, stuck with the urging and righteous sentiment to stand against tyranny and the urge to roar my own powerlessness subtly arising in those moments of great turbulence… That’s why I now take a step back, no matter how passive or insensitive this might be perceived by others. I’ve lost myself spiralling in enough self-afflicted storms in the past to know, or at least to be aware, when it’s time to add my contributive shine to a blaze more significant than my vacillating perspective… So here I am, late… But is it ever too late to offer a gesture designed through the honesty of your condition and motivation? I like to believe that it is never too late for anyone to humbly kneel with someone else, to blessedly rise up as a congregation of one. I believe this is the most priceless gift of all; to commune with others, as you are, as they might be…

But for once I was able to acknowledge I was also doing it for me, to ground myself in something not only tangible but heartfelt and real.

Therefore, that’s why I decided to send a handwritten postcard to everyone I had the current postal address. As simple as it is, I wanted to wish a fulfilling springtime to everyone I had the privilege to do so. I had — well, I still have since I’m not done yet — a multitude of cards on my writing desk, from old friends I haven’t talked to in a very long time to new ones I have the joy to share with on a more regular basis. Jeff and the rest of the band thought I was crazy to embark on such a colossal enterprise. But for once I was able to acknowledge I was also doing it for me, to ground myself in something not only tangible but heartfelt and real. I have had a very challenging year so far (my health has been a major concern, I’ve cut ties with people who were detrimentally abusive and viciously callous with me for so long that I couldn’t say if it has ever been any different), and wishing others what I was depriving myself of helped me accept what I had lost faith in seeing one day restored or couldn’t comprehend. That led to open wounds healing somehow… Those thousands of cards became a sort of uplifting mantra, name after name, every single one reminding me of you how fortunate I am, but also of how easy it is to forget blessings, to become bitter, ungrateful, to feel like you are the sole one suffering as much as you do, when the reality is far brighter than you would like to admit. It’s easier to self-isolate, to be your own source of paralysis, so you don’t have to foresee any inner transformation, just the bystander of your own misery, of your own cathartic design. Until a card, a simple card, reveals its hopeful and empowering promises, from the owner of the print shop wondering what this crazy amount of cards is for to my small-town post office clerk being joyfully amazed to send mail in all those different countries for the very first time in her almost 30 years of service, all the way to you. I am hoping it will be as uplifting for you to receive those cards as it is profoundly emancipative for me to send them.

But sometimes, the authentic gift of self we witness from afar becomes enough of a spark to make a step towards that glowing luminescence

A simple gesture, sometimes, is all it takes. That’s what you keep on reminding me through your messages, comments, handwritten letters, emails, and social engagement… Those generous offerings humanize our connections, and I’m truly thankful for you all. Sometimes, maybe a little more often in my case, we tend to hesitate, to ponder, to wonder… “Should I present myself just as I am? Should I express my incomprehension, my insecurities towards what I can’t fully grasp? Is it really prudent to expose my fear of rejection? My fright of not being enough for someone else’s perspective, whatever the reasons might be? Is distance, as painful as it could be, the safest refuge there is after we’ve been hurt or deceived so many times?” Those are as valid a question as the life baggage we all carry… But sometimes, the authentic gift of self we witness from afar becomes enough of a spark to make a step towards that glowing luminescence, to take a chance, another one, and another one. Again, and again. A gesture. A simple gesture. A word. A single word. Maybe it won’t change the world as we hope it would, but it changes us nonetheless. Even if we can’t feel it or don’t want to, it does. I strongly believe it does.

That’s why I decided to invite you all in my studio for an up-close and personal type of intimate gathering. Along with the members of The Long Shadows, I am getting prepared for the tour and getting disposed to the invisible nature defining the streaming words and sounds floating all over, only to be felt through pure abandonment. It’s always challenging for me to make that distressing first step, to take that leap of faith, but I can’t wait to discover what there is to be unfolded and experienced with you all… Consequently, I’m intending to share some of our writing sessions, music excerpts, demo snippets, parts of lyrics, and interviews more regularly before embarking on the “Not All Wonders Have Been Lost” summer tour. Make sure to regularly visit my Facebook and Instagram pages or to join the SFCC The Club if you want Jeff to guide you through a more in-depth experience (details here).

In the same committed spirit as my beloved heart brother Volker’s recent humanitarian actions in Ukraine, I’ll have the privilege to team up with my dear friends from the Music Saves UA organization. For this very meaningful occasion, I’ll be performing new and never-released material, and direct-to-vinyl lathe-cut collector editions and other art forms will be crafted, with all sales proceeds donated to Music Saves UA and their humanitarian help and relief efforts towards the Ukrainian people’s most urgent needs. We’ll broadcast that unique live stream session on several social media platforms simultaneously on April 23rd, at 5pm (ET). More details here.

Until we share some more, may you be safe and at peace, my precious friends. And if you want to receive a postcard, but never ordered on my online store (where I’ve been able to get people’s postal addresses), please, don’t hesitate to write me a private message with your address. It would be a wonderful privilege for me to send you one of my cards.

Much love,
Alex

PS: Feel free to send me a card or a letter as well. It’s always a cheerful surprise for me to discover your correspondence in my otherwise filled-with-vinyls-packages mailbox.

Alex Henry Foster
P.O. Box 1022
Covington, Virginia
24426
USA

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