So...I've not written much more than a scribbled word or two or a random poem on a crumpled piece of paper in over a year. Not since i left "home"...& started over...It's been gnawing at me. Frustrating me. Because what I've always found peace in, always had to hold onto...I lost it. In my darkest days...my Muse had abandoned me. & I've not been able to hear Him anymore.
Someone told me...maybe you just have to re-learn an old language....
But I don't really know how...
That same person told me--you should start another blog--& just write, every day if you can, or as often as you can muster...About anything. About nothing. Don't tell anyone about it. Just write it for you. Maybe it'll unlock some of the doors inside your head that've sealed themselves shut. Just write...to write. To remember...To remember why you wanted to call yourself a "writer" in the first place. To remember why you ever found peace in it. To re-capture the magick in it. To find the Rhythm...
It's not gone, He told Me. It 's part of You. It'll never be gone...
You just have to find it again. When the time is right.
I promised that I would try....
That was about an hour ago. I figure, there's no time like the present, right?
There is ...power in words. More power in random words, perhaps?...
Yesterday, I went out to the City--Chicago, that is. A couple friends & I decided to go catch Kathryn Calder play at the Double Door. I've never really listened to her music before; I decided to tag along on a whim, as I had nothing better to do that night....& live music has a draw for me, like nothing else. There's something so...personal, so intimate...about a live band...playing a tiny venue...speaking directly to their audience as though it was a room full of their closest friends...who are just beneath the stage. & you're right there...& you FEEL the music....
Music can sweep you away....at least, that's what it does for me. I breathe it in like air. & it heals a wounded heart. Or soothes a savage mind. Fuels your energy...feeds your rage & hatred....makes you pump your fists...envelopes you like a blanket...when you really need the comfort...& don't wanna feel all alone. Speaks Your Language. Quells your tears. Or...music can give you wings...let you fly away. Or...sometimes it just makes you happy....There's no price on that. It's the "little things" that truely matter anyways, right?
I'm rambling.
My friend and I, we decided to walk to the Double Door from his apartment. We'd already had a few drinks, & it was unseasonably warm in Chicago last night. It was raining...but I love the rain. I always have...since I was a small child. I hear...music & rhythm in the rain. & I've always loved to walk at night...always. I used to walk all over town with my Father when I was young, & the late night jaunts were always my favorite. I don't get to do that often enough, as it's probably not the safest thing in the world for me to be wandering all over town alone, late at night.
So my friend suggested we walk, & I jumped on it. Had I realized we'd be walking a couple miles in the rain, I probably would've selected other footwear (canvas converse sneakers in the rain= wet feet!)...but I didn't even care...He kept saying "Girl, you should've said something! We could've taken a cab..." But I didn't want to....I wouldn't have traded that moment...for anything.
The City last night...is now...forever burned into my mind's eye...as it appeared to me just then, at that moment. A Snapshot in my Mind...
I walked the Chicago streets...in the night...with the rain falling softly...dampening my hair...in the company of one of my closest friends. The rain beat a steady rhythm that mirrored the beat of our conversation. I've not felt this peaceful in a while...& we hadn't even gotten to the part that involved the live music yet!
There were other people hustling down the street...hurrying, as if the faster they moved through the rain...they 'd end up less...wet? None of them seemed to be enjoying it...But I was. Too many people miss the beauty of the Rain.
What was it nelson Algren wrote? "Celebrate the ugly things..."
We were not in a hurry. We talked steadily...in that rhythmic manner that only close friends can...where you just don't miss a beat. Our own private language. The sky was an overcast grey...that almost appeared...backlit. Everything smelled...fresh & clean. Being a week before Christmas, the lamposts were wrapped decoratively...with tinsel & snowflakes.
Everything seemed...almost Otherwoldly...Halfway between this Realm...& another. But I felt as if I were...just where I was supposed to be. At that particular moment...I was Free.
Free for a moment...
A man stopped us on a street corner; I don't know that he was homeless, as he was armed with a camera...but his coat was scraggly & his hair was unkempt. He told us "You two look like a nice couple. Can I take your photograph?" We both sort of shied away from him...keeping our distance until we could cross the street. Passing knowing smiles between each other. Don't address it...& it'll pass right? We aren't a couple...only dear friends...which is better anyways.
In my opinion...the other gets screwed up all too easily....
The man with the camera...I keep thinking about him. My first insinct was..."He wants to steal a piece of your soul!"...That's how the old legends go right? Every photograph steals a little piece of you?...& captures a piece of your soul within the photograph...for all eternity?...
I almost feel a short story idea brewing in this ....random thought. Outburst. Overactive Imagination. Crazy right?
Maybe my Muse isnt gone after all....maybe he's lurking. Just waiting 'til the random moment when he can slip a note under the door within my mind...& capture my attention....
When we finally reached the venue...I was feeling very zen...in a way I've not in ages. There were 3 opening bands; 2 were pretty awesome, & the 3rd one...was just a man with his guitar. I looked up at him...& being that I often prefer male vocalists, had a thought that he was about to blow me away....
Yeah...but not in the way I'd expected! He half yodeled & single handedly cleared out half the room...
But when Kathryn Calder...of the "New Pornographers"...took the stage...the room went silent. All rustling stopped. All eyes were on her. This mousey girl with fierce green eyes looked out at us, grabbed the microphone, & just started chit chatting with her audience...like we were her friends...& then she began to sing...
in this soft, lilting voice...that is peaceful, & beautiful....
& amazing. The woman has a voice that could stop traffic; I envision people in the street, sitting on cars....listening to her sing. I would.
Having grown up in the punk & metal scene...but being a music fiend with erratic taste...& true lover of music...I just didn't know what to expect last night. I'm not a big fan of the indie rock scene; I've not had much exposure to it. I only went last night...because my friend wanted to go. We were outside smoking cigarettes in front of the venue...He told me he'd only ever been to one show where there was "moshing" going on! I looked at him like he'd just sprouted a 2nd head!..."Really?!" I asked him incredulously. I've only ever been to a handful of shows that DIDN'T have mosh pits sprouting up...one after another...& you're trying to avoid being swallowed by them...because they just arent the way they were when I was 19. People don't pick you up off the ground anymore if you fall....they just step on you.
Almost sounds like a metaphor for life.
The vibe of this show....was completely different than anything I am used to. But it was peaceful...& mellow...& I ended up being...oh so glad it had been suggested to me in the first place.
Turns out--I really needed it.
& I was...zen...For a fleeting few hours.
Last night was one of those nights that remind me, why it was I both sought, & fought, for my freedom in the first place. It also reminded me of this quote that I'm going to leave you with, from a favorite comic book series--The Hopeless Savages:
"It does not matter what Music you Kids Love...so much as that You Love Music..."
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