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3 July 2002 (Wednesday): music :: memory
come as you are, sweetheart
come as you are
you know you've got nothing to prove
Coming to Soren's house at midnight. The lingering cloak of fog and sea spray. Orange street lights passing over the car in steady rhythmic cycles, moving shadows across the dashboard. What is happening? I'm thinking. How is it that I find myself here? Who is he? Who will he become? I feel myself clutching at this delicious uncertainty, wrapped in a cloud of dark, pulsing hope.
he is surrounded by the sound, the sound
of cattle in the marketplace
scatterlings and orphanages
Late spring/summer, the glare of midday sun flattening a landscape of wood and grass and lemon trees. My mother in the kitchen chopping carrots and flank steak, rice noodles soaking in a yellow mixing bowl. The bright tart smell of strawberries, a whole flat brought back from the farmer's market that morning, glowing impossibly red under the skylight. Emmett and Liz and me lurching around the family room, the stereo on full blast, our hearts racing from laughter and our mad flailing choreography. My father comes to the doorway and leans against it, shaking his head and smiling.
is that a dagger or a crucifix I see
you hold so tightly in your hand
and all the while the distance grows between you and me
I do not understand
The little room on the second floor landing, fruit lights strewn across the ceiling, Ava on the top bunk reading textbooks. Rain strikes dry pavement, awakens the oil and sends its dusky perfume drifting through the window, whose glass is blurry with age. Ava climbs down, picks up her mug and asks if I want tea. I smile and shake my head, thanks. Inside I am frightened, tired, slowly collapsing under the weight of school, convinced I am headed inexorably toward crisis. She leaves the room and I get up from my chair, stand straight and close my eyes, hoping that music somehow holds the answers.
- Elbow, "Red"
- Paul Simon, "You Can Call Me Al"
- Peter Gabriel, "Blood of Eden"
posted by enjelani @ 11:41 AM PST