Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Hold On To That Feelin'

Do you remember the very first time you heard "Don't Stop Believin'"? I could specify that I'm referring to Journey's smash rock-n-roll hit from the '80's, but I don't think I need to. As soon as I got half-way through the title of this soul-inspiring song, your mind was already playing the air guitar with just as much passion as it did when you were fifteen at that one high school dance.

"Don't Stop Believin'" will forever bring me back to two specific places. The first is a party I went to in the tenth grade after a friday night football game. Standing awkwardly by the side of my first boyfriend, I was feeling pretty cool all night... until someone started blasting this song... and everyone knew the words except me. I may or may not have bought it on iTunes as soon as I got home.... The second place it brings me is beside my best friend, my second boyfriend, and my sisters in the senior parking lot last spring. This time, though, instead of Journey, it was the cast of Glee. Graduation was so close we could taste it. All was well in my tiny high school world, and as I sang every word (because, of course, I knew them all now) no one could have tried to stop me from believin'.

Now, I hate to disappoint you, but my whole point in this post actually has nothing at all to do with Journey's wonder. I was just using it as an example of the marvelous relationship that music seems to have with our memories. I love that. I love that God gave music the mysterious ability to force our minds back into some transcendental state of reminisence, tricking our souls' senses into reliving a certain memory of a moment whether they want to or not.

As my typing makes an unusually loud noise on the silent floor of the library, my earbuds deliver my ears the beautiful folk sounds of Brandi Carlile. Brandi, my friends, will forever be my soul's soundtrack to its freshman year on the plains. Whether ten years from now, twenty years from now, or tomorrow, I know that everytime I hear the steady rhythm of Brandi's banjo, my mind will return to this crazy thing we call being a freshman.

So, today, I wanted to share one of her songs with yall that I keep finding on repeat. Ladies and Gentlemen: Brandi Carlile's Pride and Joy

Time of day I can't recall
The kind of thing that takes its toll
Over years and over time
Over smiles and over wine
All in all it wasn't bad
All in all it wasn't good but I still care

That's the problem with the days
They're never long enough to say
What it is you never said?
All the books you never read
I throw myself into the wind
Hoping somebody might pick me up and carry me again

Where are you now? Do you let me down?
Do you make me grieve for you?
Do I make you proud? Do you get me now?
Am I your pride and joy?

I believe this to be true
There's nothing sacred, nothing new
No one tells you when its time
There are no warnings, only signs
And you know that you're alone
You're not a child anymore but you're still scared

All your mountains turn to rocks
All your oceans turn to drops
They are nothing like you thought
You can't be something you are not
Life is not a looking glass
Don't get tangled in your past like I am learning not to

Where are you now? Do you let me down?
Do you make me grieve for you?
Do I make you proud? Do you get me now?
Am I your pride and joy

BUT BEFORE YOU GO! I also wanted you to enjoy a few words from one of my favorite poets: ee cummings. (And if you know anything about ee, you know that I am not just about to shoot grammar the bird. That was all him.)

along the brittle treacherous bright streets
along the brittle treacherous bright streets

of memory comes my heart singing like
an idiot whispering like drunken man

who(at a certain corner suddenly)meets
the tall policeman of my mind.

being not asleep elsewhere our dreams began
which now are folded:but the year completes
his life as a forgotten prisoner

-"Ici?"-"Ah non mon chéri;il fait trop froid"-
they are gone:along these gardens moves a wind br
rain and leaves filling the air with fear
and sweetness....pauses. (Halfwhispering....half

stirs the always smiling chevaux de bois)

when you were in Paris we met here

it is at moments after i have dreamed
it is at moments after i have dreamed

of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when (being fool to fancy) i have deemed

with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds

the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;
moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination, when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:
one pierced moment whiter than the rest
-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.

Have a goodnight, 'yall. It's biology time now. I've procrastinated enough.

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