10 Nashville Murals You Must Visit

10 Nashville Murals You Must Visit

And you thought we were only known for our country music?
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Nashville has always prided itself on its music, food and an overall amazing atmosphere. But now it’s insanely talented wall art has taken a hold on much of the culture. There are countless Instagram photos dedicated to showing off the street art Nashville has to offer. If you ever find yourself in Nashville and have some spare time between visiting amazing restaurants and taking in the country music history, stop by some of these beautiful works of art.

12th South

1. “I Believe in Nashville”: 2706 12th Ave. S.

Above all else, visit this mural. It will show off that Nashville pride all of us Tennesseans have and is a favorite to many, including Reese Witherspoon as seen above.

2. Draper James stripes: right across from “I Believe in Nashville.”


3. Flowers Mural: 2900 12th Ave. S, on the side of Green Pea Salon.


West End

4. Import Flowers: off of Murphy Road on the side of the old Import Flowers building.


Hillsboro Village

5. Kay Bob’s Grill & Ale: 1602 21st Ave. S.


6. Dragon Mural: Hillsboro Village between Posh and Pangea boutiques.


The Gulch

7. What Lifts You Wings: 302 11th Ave. S.

An amazingly beautiful 20-foot high piece of art created by Kelsey Montague. The Juice Bar and Biscuit Love are also right around the corner - two great stops for awesome food and drinks.


Downtown

8. Road to the Skyline: on the side of Legend's Corner on the downtown strip


East Nashville

9. DCXV's, “Stay Tuned” Mural: 625 Main St.


10. East Nashville: 600 Main St.


And you thought we were only known for our country music?

Cover Image Credit: www.tennessean.com

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To the guy that shot my brother...

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To the guy that shot my brother,

On January 9, 2019 my families entire life changed with one phone call. The phone call that my little brother had been shot in the face, no other details. We didn't need any other details. The woman on the phone who called us in full panic told us where he was so we went, as soon as possible. I don't think it helped that not even 10 min prior I talked to Zach on the phone.. kind of irritated with him, and the ONE TIME I didn't say 'I love you' as we hung up. Could've been the last time we ever spoke.. I remember pulling up to the hospital thinking 'this can't be real' 'it's not our Zach' 'this is just a dream Sarah, WAKE UP' I'd close my eyes really tight just to open them, I was still in the hospital emergency parking lot. I could still hear the ambulance sirens coming. It was all real.

The day our life's changed was definitely a test of faith. A test of how strong we were, as a family. I sat in that waiting room ready to see the damage that has been done to my sweet baby brother. Because at that point we had no idea how lucky he got. That glimpse of seeing Zach will haunt me forever. How helpless I felt in that exact moment frequently wakes me up from these horrific dreams I've been having ever since that day. That is a moment burned into my me and families brain forever.

You always hear about these things in the movies or on the news, a house being shot up, someone shooting another innocent person, not to care if they died on your watch. But we found ourselves on the news.. We have been confined to the hospital since that day. Running on barely any sleep, taking shifts of sleep so we don't make ourselves sick taking care of Zach. Watching him suffer. Undergoing surgeries, to repair the damage you did.

Before I proceed let me tell you a little something about the man you shot.

Zachary Keith Wright. A blonde hair blue eyed boy. Who could potentially be the most annoying human on the planet (possibly coming from his sister). A man who loves his God first, loves his family second. Perfect by no means, but almost perfect to me. A 19 year old who was to graduate high school this month. After graduation he was prepping to leave for Marine boot camp in the summer.. being in the military has been Zach's dream since he could talk. Literally. Running around, playing war with underwear on our heads, and finger guns. Some would say we looked like natural born assassins.. growing up he has been a country boy. Let me tell ya country to the core. He loves this country like he loves his family. He believes in helping people, taking charge in what's right, and never leaving a brother behind. He's lived by that his whole life. Until now....

The day you shot him. The day not only did you change my brothers life, you changed his families life too. The day you almost ripped my brother out of this world... for what? A misunderstanding? Because you've let something take ahold of your life that you can't let go you're willing to kill someone innocent over? Luckily for him, his guardian angels were protecting him in your time of cowardice. There were 3 times that day he should've died, the time you shot him, the time you tried to shoot him again as he stared you directly in the face, (even tho he couldn't talk I know you could read his eyes, and he still intimidated you. That's why you tried to pull the trigger again) and the time he was running out of the house. But he lived. A man who was shot in the face, didn't lay there helpless, didn't scream in agony. That MAN walked to the neighbors to get help. Why? Because he's a MAN, and because he's on this earth for a reason.

It's gonna sound a little strange not only to you, but the audience who is reading this. I must say thank you. Even in this situation, this was the best outcome we could get. He gets to live. He will make a full recovery. He will graduate. And he will go off into the Marines. You united my family together. Closer than ever. Thank you. You tested our faith and brought us closer to our God. Thank you. Because of your moment of weakness, you showed us what prayer could do. Heal anything. Thank you. This was a bump in the road, and a helluva way to kick off our year of 2019. But here we are.. all laying in the hospital. I'm looking around as mom is sleeping in her recliner chair exhasted but still here, Zach his awake playing his xbox all hooked up to machines, fighting to heal and get better. And of course I'm writing this letter to you.

See you in trial,

From the girl whose brother you shot.

'Fight the good fight' - 1 Tim 6:12 🤟🏼💙

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Writer's Block is Part of The Journey

ufhdsnkn - Me.

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So many possibilities, yet somehow my mind can't land on anything.

We get stuck. Our minds just can't think of any topic. At that moment, we doubt our abilities as writers. For minutes, hours even, our mind feels like it's been splurging nonsense. It feels like how "vbfadfaohf" would feel: all tangled with much ideas but ideas that aren't...good. We forge pseudonyms as we think of ideas that just don't seem to stick to who we really are. They don't use our voice- they aren't our voices, yet they're in our minds somehow.

I think that's incredible: having a limitless capacity of thought (but there are just so many unknowns that we don't know of). With greater power, however, comes greater responsibility.

We want to challenge ourselves, being more creative to see where our minds can go. It can go to infinity and beyond, perhaps, but when it comes to writing, why is our mind so picky? It's picky about who/what to write about. It's picky about the voice it wants to project. It's picky in the sense that there's this vast space that wants to release energy but it can't. It's paralyzed.

I don't know what to blame, and frankly, I don't want to blame anything. It's writer's block in itself; but of course, to live in a cognitive society means that addressing this block searches for an external standard. Such a standard would determine a cause to this block, but this is a topic that strays away from the journey.

Having a writer's block doesn't seem like a big deal, for me at least. I think that having such a block, however, is talked about because it's a point when the mind is blank yet full at the same time. A million things going on up in this brain, but the picky writer can't choose. It's full of thoughts and consciousness but blank with the hesitation and standards that come with sharing unsure ideas. Loving to write is one thing, but choosing what to write about is a writer's plot.

The block challenges the protagonist. It's an enemy that takes over the writer's mind, coming and going whenever it pleases. The writer entertains several ideas before taking a seat on the rollercoaster of storytelling. However, something always brings the writer to victory: a spark, that one idea that makes the protagonist drive their hands to write. Ideas come together, and stories live.

To end this, I'd like to quote from the movie "The Apartment"; it's a new favorite film of mine. The writers did such an intricate story, tying it all together with the ending line, "shut up and deal." All the hours and days spent on writing and writing and directing- all of it ended with four non-sentimental words. Just beautiful.

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