So I spent all day thinking about how I was going to write this tonight. I've written about Hanson quite a few times during the five years that I've had a blog, and each time I think how my words almost don't do my heart justice. They are more than a band, more than three people, more than just music to me. They have come to symbolize so much... dedication, passion, art, intelligence, creation, and most of all - the unending fight for one's truest and staunchest beliefs.

As I wrote yesterday, it's been 10 years since they came onto the scene with "MMMBop" and their debut album. 10 years since they "sold out," their faces emblazoned on merchandise whose ridicule factor was surpassed only by the likes of the New Kids on the Block and, later on, the legions of boybands whose careers they inadvertently spawned; 10 years since a money-hungry record label saw what a commodity they held in these three kids (they were 16, 14, and 11 years old) and decided that the integrity of their music was not as important as the number of soulless records they could sell.

And damn, how much has happened in those 10 years, both in their lives and in mine.

One could say that they've disappeared underground - they are, in all senses, an independent rock band now, signed to their own label and making their own decisions. They've become leaders, entrepeneurs, husbands (one a father!), collaborators - so if achieving that cost them what could have been really cushy rides to fame that would likely have imploded before they finished puberty, I'd say that their journey underground was fully worth it.

I really wish that more people could see their documentary. It's not a fan film. It is truly about the struggles that happen to many artists who are just trying to reach out and impact people with their ideas and passions - the "music industry" is not about the music so much anymore, and it's that very attitude that drove Hanson to go into hiding and refuse to put out music that wasn't theirs, to instead push and push and fight to write what they felt in their hearts was THEM.

And I'm not sure which came first, but that is a way of living that I have striven to uphold for years. They are my inspiration to continue on, and to know that I can send messages with my words and my art, and to hold true to what I believe is right and is me even through heartbreak and disparagement.

Not to mention that they were the ones who catalyzed and fueled my love for music and helped me discover my voice and the ability to found and lead a musical group that continues on long after I've left.

All this and more surged through my head as I stood mere feet away from the stage last night, surrounded by screaming chaos that I felt was just so far removed from my state of mind. I didn't want to scream, or jump onstage, or cry (well maybe a little?). I just wanted to hear them - to the point where I covered my ears in order to drown out the audience and let their harmonies ring through. You can hear their incredible love for music in every note they hit - I've often said that all you need to do is sit and watch their faces for a minute to know that they are real. There is no way that Mercury Records could have ever hoped to turn them into some manufactured pop sensation.

And then I inevitably started to feel sad - and in a way much more complex than the sadness I used to feel when I watched them hundreds of feet away onstage in some huge arena. I felt sad because more than anything, I live to impact people and I live for relationships... but my relationship with them is purely one-sided - I will never mean anything to them other than another upturned face in a bulging crowd in a club. What would I give for them to appreciate my art the way I do theirs - what would I give for a chance to put our heads together and let their ideas influence and inspire mine?

I can't even qualify it.

10 years and they are closer to my heart than ever before - they've renewed my romantic vigor for life and all that I want mine to be.