words, words, words
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If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?
P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.
raisin@gmail.com
albums:
Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
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Friday, November 22, 2002
I'm posting something I wrote last week, when I couldn't get online. i think it's worth putting up, even if late.
One of the bravest things I have ever done happened a long time ago, twelve years, when i was a freshman in high school. Towards the end of the year, the freshman football team had moved near the varsity team while maintenance people worked on the old showers. None of us wanted this, knowing the threat of being too close to those old jerks. The coaches were supposed to protect us from th is kind of dealings, right? We moved our stuff, proceeded with our gym time during the football hour at the end of the day. We were getting ready to go one afternoon when what we had been holding our breaths over happened. Afew upperclassmen, and not very big ones, walked over and decided to pick on my friend, Robertson, I think was his name. i spent most of my football time with him, talking about the hope that a plane would crash onto the field so that we wouldn’t have to practice for a while. Neither of us were really the football type and shouldn’t have been there in the first place. I can’t say he and I were close because my friends were not football players, but we certainly spent some time together. And yes, he was a bit wimpy - much like I would have been had my dad not engineered my body through a weight program (my brother called my frankenstein’s monster). I can’t remember much about what they did to him, probably called him a few names, pushed him around a bit. I didn’t want to, but I intervened anyway, or at least, stuck myself in the way, telling the guy he shouldn’t pick on him. I probably looked like a dork, even though had I been more aware of myself, I would have known I was bigger and much stronger than the guys. In response, one of the guys picked me up from behind and just held me there for a second, let me go and walked away. I was embarrassed, both from being held in the air by a smaller guy and because I had just saved my friend some annoyance (most anything that caused me to stick out embarrassed me then). It was the only time I’ve ever had anyone attempt anything over me. My friend and I never talked about it; we just went our way as if it never happened. Once the year ended, he and I hardly talked again. He quit football as I should have done, but I went on to start on varsity my sophomore year, at least for the first few games, earning the car my dad had promised.
I heard Sigur Ros live last night. I had only heard one song by them, but I had heard such good press and had such a good feeling about them, that I decided to go to their concert, taking my boyfriend along with me. I felt like that was the first time I had ever heard music, their sound so affected my life. The sound was expansive, oceanic, in the way it ebbed and flowed, the way the singer screeched like a whale, the way so many different parts fit together to make one phenomenal whole. The filled the room with passion, unbelievable contemplation of sound. The first song, I started crying to. It’s beauty pulled out my sadness, welcomed it, held it in its warm embrace and said, let it go, let it all go, that universe you’ve been holding on to, as if you could carry it in your arms, let it go. And when I let it go, the music swirled through my head, through my hair and skin, through my innards like a spirit of hope. They sounded like Radiohead and Spiritualized in their ambient water-like noise, but they had more passion and beauty than I’ve ever heard. I could hardly breathe while they played, shocked and stunned, absorbing all I can, remembering now more the feeling than I do the music, just knowing that it altered my view, made me long for more. We don’t have words for that music, just emotion.
5:15 PM
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