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Sunday, 25 April 2010

  • * Song of the Summer *

       

     At first listen, it sounds like it's straight from the 80's... but don't be deceived. The 80's were never this sexy...

     Now, I don't claim to have an extensive knowledge of musical vernacular. But I do know good music when I hear it. I recently found this little beauty on one of my frequent visits to the Urban Outfitters playlist. The playlist in its entirety was superb; it had mostly a beachy feel, and featured such indie rock greats as Girls and Le Loup. Although I did end up downloading the whole playlist, "Feel It All Around" was the most striking; I've been obsessed ever since.

    Washed Out is the brainchild of Ernest Greene, a young Georgian whose music is most accurately described by Pitchfork magazine as "bedroom synthpop," and stereogum as "woozy ambience." I call it purely sexy. Washed Out has been a fairly recent endeavor for Greene, but has already been making waves, and rightfully so.

     The first thirty seconds alone are enough to keep you hooked. The combination of dreamy reverb and synth, along with the sexy vocals, create a sensual feel, to put it mildly. I personally felt I had been sucked into a time warp and transported back to the 1980's- but again, I don't think the 80's ever sounded this good.

     I have an undeniable inclination towards music that combines both modern and retro qualities, (such as the dream-pop, London fog band The Clientele) and Washed Out is the latest testament to this passionate love affair with vintage-meets-modern.  Thank you kindly, Urban Outfitters!

Friday, 19 February 2010

  • ** Poetry I don't remember writing...

    ... but evidently I did, in fact, write. They're dated 1.26 and entitled "Mono Monster", which would mean they were written in late January 2009, when I had mono. I was home from school by this point, and wouldn't return until mid February. In all honesty, some of these are so good that I wasn't sure I really wrote them. However, there are certain bits and pieces that I remember struggling over, so they are, indeed, all mine. Enjoy!

                                        I
                   Whoever said beauty is only skin deep
                   Hit the nail right on its wee head
                   For my love is a love that knows nothing of age
                   And will live on while wretched lusts sleep.

                 This one I remember writing because I recall being irritated that the rhyme scheme was screwed up... lines 1 and 4 rhyme, instead of 1 and 3, or 2 and 4. I may even have done it on purpose. But I think the real reason was that, after reading it, I simply liked it the way it was, and decided to leave it that way.

                                         II "War"
                     I hear the dogs down in the square
                     I hear the gunshots everywhere
                     The splintering of stone and wood
                     Why don't they take this blasted war
                     And leave our town for good?

                   I like this one. The only thing I recall about writing it is that I had originally wanted to put "fucking" instead of "blasted", but decided in the end that "blasted" was the more friendly version.
     
                                  III
                    I wrote a poem while I slept
                   But you're not here to hear it
                   I wrote it just for you, because
                  My heart was very near it.
                  I wrote this poem in my mind
                 When all the folks had gone to bed...

              This was never finished. I actually was taking a shower when this popped into my head. I kept repeating it to myself until I got out, and quickly wrote it down so I wouldn't forget it. Evidently I forgot to finish it, though.

                              IV
               My woman treats me mean
               My woman treats me mean
               She doesn't cook, she doesn't clean
               My woman treats me mean.
                  
               I buy her flowers, talk real sweet,
               But she don't care if I don't eat.
               Sometimes, late nights when I come home,
               I find her up, and not alone.

               My woman treats me mean, I say!
              My woman treats me mean.

       This sounds like it came straight out of a Langston Hughes anthology... this was most likely what I was shooting for. I was obviously trying to write from a new perspective- I always write from a woman's point of view, never a man's, but in this case, I was trying to switch it up.

                                 V
        When I'm too old to speak or swallow
        If you say come, then I will follow.
        Though all my bones and brains were hollow,
        If you say come, then I would follow.

        Pride is often hard to swallow;
        You say come, and I will follow.
        And when my bones and brains are hollow,
        If you say come, I will follow.

        This was most likely written for JD Keegan, who I loved at the time. The first half of verse 1 was printed, while the rest was in cursive. I crossed out a few words here and there, favoring other ones, so I clearly had a difficult time with this one. This is a surprisingly short poem, as I have been known to wax rather verbose when it comes to love poetry.

                        VI
         There ain't a woman on this earth
         Could love that man like he deserves
         There ain't a soul in Heaven or Hell,
         'Cause no one else knew him so well.
         And should you search the sea and sky,
         Still no one loves him more than I.

       This is another example of trying to imitate Langston Hughes' style.

       I found these poems written on a piece of blue stationery in my room sometime before I left for college.. I brought them with me, and, in the wake of a recent calamity, decided to post them before I lost them, too.

      x

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

  • Currently
    Holocaust Cantata
    see related

    "even when God is silent"

    So I fell madly in love with a song today...  or a poem, rather, I suppose. Anyhow, this poem was written on the walls of a basement somewhere in Germany during the Holocaust by someone who was hiding from the Nazis, and was then arranged into a song by Michael Horvit. Looking at the words alone wrenched my heart, but hearing Horvit's composition of the song did it justice. I love this song, and am honored that we will be singing it; the desperately cheerful words of someone who, in all likeliness, was killed- that joy and love of life, that relentless hope, even in the face of certain death, is, to me, beautiful beyond all description.
      Things like this rekindle my love for mankind; whenever humanity shows us its worst, we are led to doubt, sometimes, whether our race is truly intrinsically good. But seeing something like this confirms us that we are; that someone could have so much faith, so much purity left in them, even during the most embarrassing travesty of human history, moves my heart like nothing else could.
      I present it to you, with the greatest pleasure, and without further ado.

      "I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining.
    I believe in love, even when feeling it not.
    I believe in God, even when God is silent."

     This says it all. This says everything. Whoever wrote this poem: thank you for leaving your beautiful words for others to find. I hope that you found the God you appealed to in your darkest hour. I believe you did. <3

                    x

Monday, 08 February 2010

  • Currently
    Born in the U.K.
    By Badly Drawn Boy
    Promises
    see related

    ** phantoms of the past...

    ... One and all...

    "Sometimes you just have to walk away."
    I'm so glad I did, and I'm never looking back again.


    But I can honestly say, with perfect sincerity, that I wish you nothing but the best.
    Regardless of what the past once was, it's all over now.
    We are different people now; those were different lives, and they have ended.
    Just know that, no matter what you may have said or done, I forgive you, and I will most certainly never forget you... any of you.
    There is a reason, whatever that reason may be, that we are strangers now...
    But we cannot know that reason.
    We can only take with us what we have learned from it, and our memories, though they may seem more tormenting than fond, at times.

    "Don't look back in anger."

    To me, the greatest anguish in life is losing someone we love, whether to life or death... nothing is eternal, and to those who, like me, fear change, partings are agonizing... we never know if we will see each other again, somewhere out there in this vast world.
    And if we never do, I want every one of you to know that while you were in my life, I loved you with all my heart, and would have done anything in the world for you.
    And if we should meet again, things may never be the same as they were, and perhaps that is all for the best. If we randomly find one another, somewhere on the street, I may keep on walking, but I will smile at you, remembering that I once loved you more than you could ever know. And somewhere, locked deep within the most reclusive annals of my mind, memories of that love will remain, though the fire itself has been extinguished. We cannot resurrect the dead.

    I go on with my own life, now, happy to be free at last. And if I ever should be tempted to look back, the fate of Lot's wife would surely await me. So I refuse. There can be no turning back, now or ever. There is only going forward.

    x

Saturday, 23 January 2010

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  • The one thing to know about me is that I'm a survivor. I also have the most amazing boyfriend in the world.

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