Blaze debuted at the Sundance Film Festival a couple weeks ago.
Director Ethan Hawke masterfully tells the story of Blaze Foley, a country singer/songwriter who had a lot of hard breaks, made a lot of poor decisions, and died too young – but wrote beautiful lyrics.
In one scene, Blaze and his wife are riding in the back of a pickup truck, dreaming about the future.
“You’re going to be a star,” she tells him.
“I don’t want to be a star,” he says. “Stars are selfish. Stars shine for themselves. I want to be a legend. Legends are after something bigger than themselves. Legends write and play for others. Legends leave something that lasts.”
Stars and legends both shine.
The difference is for what purpose they shine.
To be seen or so that others can see.
To seek to be served or to seek to serve.
To be self-centered or to be others-centered.
Neither stars nor legends, in the Blaze Foley sense, become such overnight. Each comprises thousands of choices in thousands of mostly mundane moments.
One such moment is before you – and before me.
Let’s make it legendary.