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How many songs until all of my songs are no longer songs of you? |
goodbye
to the vessel that carried us
the stale-aired castle
that caused our collision
goodbye to
every black corner
and the vaccuum
that held our breaths
sucking us in
holding us in
goodbye
to my familiar |
In case anybody was curious....
the only CD I listened to in Hawai'i was the Kings Of Convenience. It makes me wistful and happy and calm all at once, and reminds me of one exciting, complicated summer many moons ago.
beautiful for writing or sketching in the early morning, a cup of Kona coffee beside you and the whole big world on your mind, in your heart and upon your shoulders. |
Tonight walking home after an awkward encounter with a cute guy at the bookstore (unwittingly asking where to find a particular book that ended up being in the dreaded self-help section), I pulled the classic single jenna sigh of accepted aloneness. It starts off like any old breath, just your usual need for oxygen. Except halfway up I realize my chest seems to be embraced by chains, fleshy, interlocked links wrapped around me again and again like a corset, the air in my lungs pushing against the locks. And so I breathe deeper, hoping to free myself of this lonelyheart. Up up up like a lead balloon.
Upon release, I unfailingly and inevitably and unthinkingly end up letting out this weird sad little sound, like the kind of sound a dog makes when it can't catch its breath. The balmy summer air cloaks my skin and I make my way home. Home to sleep diagonally in a queen-sized bed. |
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It's hard to find the right fit. Hard to find someone who's just the right height to put their arm around you. Or who walks at the same pace as you, whether in New York rushing mode or post-Sunday brunch lolling mode. Or who cocks their head to the correct side and breathes at the right time and has the same tongue rhythm whilst kissing. Or whose stomach fits right into the small of your back as you sleep. Someone who breathes while you exhale. |
Tonight I took a break from packing my few belongings to sit on my stoop for the last time and take a breath of the New York summer air. I had just gone through a pack of photographs from my first six months here and was flooded with nostalgia from then, the time when I was new in this space and everything seemed possible and even probable. I was so thrilled to have a space of my own, a nook to call mine. I was terrified and excited and determined. I was unchained to anyone and untied to any career. I had two suitcases and a laptop and everything I laid my eyes upon was fresh and different and gorgeous.
Once again I find myself unchained and searching for everything to be new, aching for a new taste in my mouth. By now, my neighbors have changed and my roommate has become plural and therefore I've outgrown this city cage. It's time to get a real bed and my own television. The air that first weekend was as warm and wet as it was tonight, and though I don't have the same blind enthusiasm as I did four years ago, I am full of hope for a new nook to call my own. |
The best music moment of the week:
At the Death Cab For Cutie concert, as the band played what would probably have been the last song before the encore, "The Sound Of Settling".... as the music swelled to a triumphant climax, a completely unforeseen thunderstorm swept into Brooklyn. The wind blew into McCarren Park Pool in what seemed to be one fell swoop, shaking the band, the equipment, the lights, and all of the crowd reveling and singing along soundlessly below. Death Cab crashed through the refrain, lights flashing against their faces, their shirts and hair blowing furiously, dust sweeping angrily among the basin of the venue. |
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My cell phone finally broke a couple of weeks ago. Broke for real, dropped for the 100th time, smashed into four irreparable pieces. There go, like, 150 phone numbers. There goes the first material evidence I had to prove that yes, I really lived in New York and I was giving up my Arizona-ness for good. Gone, all of the photos I took during the days before my digital camera, during the summer I was first becoming an assistant, when Dustin and I were still new and an unknown item to the rest of everyone. There go the photos from the Strokes concert, from Cake and The Flaming Lips. There go the photos from that one week, that one time. There go all the saved text messages from past loves and lovers, and from my mom just to say she loves me, and from my friend who heard a song that made her think of our singing-out-loud times, our getting-over-that-douchebag times. There goes my memorized alarm clock navigation, a body memory trusty enough to reset five more minutes even when half-asleep. There go the last three years, in four irreparable pieces on the ground. Yet another way to start anew this year. Here we go again.... |
Everybody (well, maybe only the very lucky?) has one of those friends who knows so much music from so many different genres that they're very nearly an encyclopedia. You know the type - that friend who can talk for hours about The Beatles or David Bowie or Nirvana and who opens you up to great music that you never would have found otherwise. I've had a few of those people in my life (and have even been a version of that to one or two people), but, as I am currently lacking that presence, I've discovered the internet equivalent.
Pandora is a genius website that is just like that musically-savvy friend. Just type in a song or artist name, and it creates a playlist based on the musical attributes of that song. I find myself listening throughout the day, and jotting down dozens of new artists that I must check out because wow, how did they know I'd like that! I totally love that! Any mood you're in, they've got two hours of songs for you to listen to.
And so, here is my list of my five favorite items opened to me by Pandora.com (in no particular order, but I'm pretty sure they all came from 2 playlists - the identity of which is for me to know and you to ponder):
1) "Lotion" by Greenskeepers
2 ) "Keep Me In The Frame" by Rob Laufer
3) "Alternative To Love" by Brendan Benson
4) "5-22-02" by Golden Smog
5) "Way Down Here Without You" by Superdrag
Bonus generalization: Anything by the Mommyheads, and mostly anything by Teenage Fanclub - how have I not heard of these? Must go buy CDs.
Best song I somehow didn't know by an artist I love: "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)" by George Harrison
Best overall playlist: based on Kings Of Convenience
.... but that last one I might have chosen because it was the only thing that soothed a hangover. |
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O, heart of mine. Scratching at the walls of my chest. Be quiet now, won't you? |
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msmanhattan's journal