“n. the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like—as if all your social tastebuds suddenly went numb, leaving you unable to distinguish cheap politeness from the taste of genuine affection, unable to recognize its rich and ambiguous flavors, its long and delicate maturation, or the simple fact that each tasting is double-blind.”
Well, I’m not quite sure why I have a blog, or what exactly I hope to accomplish with it. Still, it’s here. I’m new to this, so feel free to share with me your blog and we can be blog-buddies and read each other’s, etc etc, yay!
Today I had one of those feelings. One of those striking moments where something you have never experienced before takes ahold of you, grips you by the throat. And then you breathe out. It’s the sort of feeling only music can make me feel.
Mauerbauertraurigkeit. It’s a crazy word and a pain to type; it’s a song by the band Closure in Moscow. I was listening to that song, and it was the song that inspired that feeling that I had. The song starts off quiet and worried, ambling. It speaks of the desert, of falling out of yourself. But then it grows and erupts into sadness, bliss, and everything in between.
“Do you know you’re a lovely old soul?
Fruit of my dawn a mist settled within my marrow
Oh but you don’t know, no you don’t know”
Without listening to the lyrics it sounds like rising wind full of fog beating endlessly against something stony, rigid, alone. Then the singer’s voice rises into a surprisingly lovely soprano, and from there, carries you.
“You’re the hymn on the pulpit, the arch up above
The marigold thunder I hear in that distant storm
Oh and I still feel it’s reign in my bones”
This is the sort of love song that resonates with me. Out of a pit of angst and worry emerge images that can only be felt, feelings that can’t be contained. This song was rushing through my head when I went on a run today, and I had that feeling.
I felt full, but also thin like roots, and both confused and clearheaded at once. I’m still not sure what it was. That’s the tricky thing moments like those–you can never really define it, put it into words as much as I would like to. The feeling led to an idea for a story about people who deliver messages by hand, moving around like Buddhist monks, relying on the generosity others for sustenance, delivering messages and lost objects. Not very practical. They would probably starve. Well, at least I had an idea.
I recommend listening to the song, and the whole album “Pink Lemonade”, though fair warning that it’s a crazy prog rock concept album about a man that drinks a magic beverage that sends him balls-out tripping through the space-time continuum. I don’t know whether that ruins the song for me or makes it even better.
My goal is to post something once a week, something brief. What will I blog about? Music, art, writing, funny things, college, advice that I am not qualified to give, hopefully only a little bit of politics. Why? To write for a public audience, to enjoy a simple project, ego.
Feel free to share, comment and send me all your best blogger’s advice. Links to the music are below.
“It’s the sinew of my merit that is swelling with your love
As swift as it is tender, it echoes through my soul
Without it I’m left in this moment
With all I wanted to say and I keep falling out myself
Out of space and time where I’m never going to leave you”
Mauerbauertraurigkeit by Closure in Moscow
Pink Lemonade full album, this has a dope album cover
^^^^That is just whack
This week’s book: All the Light We Cannot See, Anthony Doerr
This week’s album: Pink Lemonade, Closure in Moscow