~'Hide and seek' by Imogen Heap because it's propelling in the same way that anger and i've-had-enough are great motivators to take flight, little bird.
~still The Fall and i promise to go into it. it deserves the highest praise from someone far smarter, more clever, and more savvy than yours truly, but i'll sing its praises anyway. tomorrow maybe.
gang, i want to take this opportunity to thank those of you who read me. there seem to be quite a few which is a shocker because, well...see my first May entry about diarrhea.
on my way home from work, i decided to just keep walking. today, i stopped being bothered by crowds. today, i stopped. i had many thoughts to filter today and here's what came out, for enquiring minds (remember that commercial?).
a lot came out. the more i think and the more i see and hear, the less i really want to talk. but here i am saying stuff. i'm ok not saying stuff, though- it's not a need. i don't feel a physical need to communicate- i used to think i did (writing, etc, bla bla bla). the second time i came back from greece, i didn't talk to anyone for a month. i was alone in the apartment and i guess it was a decompression of sorts, but it felt pretty spot-on, not talking. solitude is welcome and cherished and prized. solitary and nomadic at heart, i find myself surprised to find myself where i'm at.
what else came out in the crowds on market street tonite? i realized that i've managed to fall into some really, genuinely phenomenal people. if you're reading this (poor things), then you're one of them. kid you not. i took stock tonite, gang. i am one fortunate hag. and it's because of the people i know. i had a bout of clarity (don't worry- it always passes) and i remembered what went through my mind, how stark and clear i felt when i found the first clump of hair on my pillow, was permitted to submerge my body in water without the drainage tubes, lost my first fingernail--sick, mystified, completely bewildered, pissed, funny, and fortunate. i realized today that not a lot has changed much in deeannland. so pull up a barstool.
a pal who's close close close to my heart sent me an interview with Mike Peters from The Alarm (i thought he had just about the neatest face when i was young--think Howard Jones's face with Paul Young's coiffure) (Warning: personal message entry: shirley, i know you don't know these references, but your SFMoMma loves you the same as the rest of the kids).
the reason i'm relaying this, and it probably sounds trite and hallmarkish, but if it sounds that way to you, then you've never been effected and i don't know whether to congratulate you, or to wag a finger at you for being such an oblivious wag.
i think i started to get soap-box on y'all. sorry.
Mike talks about anger...maybe better let him talk now.
so here he is:
interviewer: Getting cancer again and recovering again, what was the biggest influence that had on your music?
...there's a certain reality you have to face in that post-diagnosis and then having the treatment. when someone's talking to you and you have to come to terms with it, there's a finality to it, or an end in sight, you have to...thinkg about , "wow, what if this was the last journey i'm going to go on?" that brings a certain realism and bring you back down to Earth, really. you have to focus on what is important and the things in life that you hold dear and the things in life that help to define you as a person. and that is the focus and becomes the background...."
"i started to write some really fast songs...i suppose there's almost an anger under there as well, that you maybe don't bring out in your speech or your actions to people. but if you are faced with the fact that you might be...you have to face the reality that this journey could result in losing your life, there is an anger...and it might be an anger that's not shown in aggressive acts, but there is definitely an anger that drives it."
"it's a bit like, you're riding this wave that's bubbling under you. you're just thinking, hanging on for dear life, there's a whole wave of emotions coming through you...conflicting emotions, confusing, and then a certain amount of grasping hold of what's real and then trying to push the certainty that you want to hold onto through all this wave of confusion. i tried to...focus on the the most direct things i could think of. rather than running away from it, i dived headlong into it and be as sort of straightforward and i could...."
Mr. Peters, you may write my copy anytime.
bless your hearts for staying with me, gang. i can't explain it; i don't understand it; i'm not going to try.
cheers. clink. fin.
1 comment:
i am reading. i've still got that picture, too.
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