Random thoughts and emotions rise up and spill out of me and
I am unable to control them or figure out what they mean.
I was at Target at some point today. I saw a small bag of Sour Patch candy for a
reasonable price and grabbed this. I
froze immediately after because I realized I could not remember why I wanted to
come to this store in the first place.
Tears were beginning to well up in my eyes and my throat began to
tighten. I clenched a fist around my
keys as hard as I could, using the pain as a means to focus and push through. A
few people walked by and I avoided their glances. A sales clerk in trademark red shirt and
khaki pants was approaching and I scurried into the next aisle to avoid
communication with him. Eventually I was
able to remember why I came to the store; I made my purchases and drove
home. Upon arriving at my flat I watched
Edward Scissorhands twice in a row and cried both times. Edward Scissorhands has the rich and
endlessly rewarding feel of a deeply personal and impassioned work and ranks
alongside Batman Returns as my favorite Burton movie and one of my favorite
films period. Incidentally those two
movies are also great companion pieces to one another and are both mandatory
Christmas time viewing.
As I sit writing this I remember a woman I met in my college
years. Her name was Graciela and she was
majoring in fashion design. I recall
seeing her for the first time at the campus’s multicultural center. She was beautiful and her smile and the way
it reflected in her eyes was perhaps the most genuine I’d ever seen. It seemed to suggest that life was a glorious
thing and it was hard for me to argue during those all too brief moments where
that smile was directed toward me. I was
too frightened to approach her but she was kind enough to come over and
introduce herself.
Over the course of several months she was never anything
less than the personification of kindness, generosity and consideration. Upon learning I was taking Spanish classes
she gave me her number and told me I could call her anytime if I needed
help. I exercised this privilege only
thrice but all three times she ready and eager to help, never making me feel
bad over my poor pronunciation and even poorer grasp of grammar. Another time, I was covering a banquet for
the campus newspaper. She was in
attendance and though she must have known half the people there she decided to
come over and sit by me. I felt special
and happy that she would do this yet a bit sad that she would have to suffer my
company for the evening. I’ll never
forget how she looked in her dark green dress that night. She invited me to her birthday party though
she barely knew me and I will always regret being too cowardly too attend. Finally, the day before she was set to
graduate I remember we were standing on the stairs, saying goodbye to one
another. She hugged me and I forgot how
to take a breath and I hugged her back and a light wind blew around us and I smelled
her perfume and I wished this moment would last forever. In my mind I created a separate universe
which begins with that moment and then becomes the two of us taking a walk
around the campus, through fields and trees, holding hands and watching the
sunset together. It is a beautiful
place. The last thing she said to me was
“You have my number so call anytime if you need anything at all”. Then she smiled – one last time I could exist
in that glory – and then she was gone. It
was the last time I ever saw or spoke to her.
The last I heard she was living in New York, working in the
fashion industry. I was extremely
pleased to hear this. It is strange to
think that the total time we spent together would likely not be any longer than
a standard work day. And yet the desire
I have for Graciela to achieve all she wants and to be happy is greater than
for the majority of people in my life whom I’ve known for years. It is unlikely I will ever see or talk to her
again and I feel it is equally unlikely that she would even remember me if we
were to have another encounter at some point.
I try not to bring her forth in my memory too often or visit that alternate
universe as she is always accompanied by sharp pain. My fault, not her’s. But the occasional thought, a minute or so
every once in a great while, is something sweet and necessary and worth the
pain. When I do think of her, she always
has that smile on her face and as ever her joy and kindness and beauty is
reflected in her eyes. I hope her smile
and her heart never change.
Someone lost something roughly one year ago and I did my
best to find it but was unable. I told
myself I would view it as a sign if it was ever found. But I do not actually know if I would honor
this.
Despite the fact that I needed more than anything to express
something I have been completely unsuccessful this night in producing any
writing worth reading. Even worse, I’m
still not sure if I accomplished my goal.
My recent musical purchases reveal more about myself and the
world at large than any edition of the nightly news could ever hope to
achieve. The first among my purchases
was Siberia Acoustic by Canadian
artist Lights. Its no secret to anyone I
told that Siberia was one of my
favorite musical finds of the great year 2012.
I listened to that album at work, at home, in my car and during moments
of deep suicidal depression and it always left me feeling comforted. Generous arrangements, warm vocals and subtly
sexy beats are things I would attribute to Siberia
(the album and the place). When I heard
about this acoustic version being released I was initially skeptical due to the
heavy electronic sound of the original disc.
Yet upon several listens I am pleased to find this new work compliments
the original in a wonderful way and really reveals the strengths inherent in
the songs. “Heavy Rope” is my favorite
from the original Siberia and it is
equally beautiful and heartbreaking in this new acoustic form. I also acquired Walk Though Exits Only by Philip H. Anselmo and the Illegals. Metalfaces will know Mr. Anselmo from Pantera
and Down and he’s always been one of my favorite metal singers. I have not had a chance to give this one a
good listen so I will refrain from accolades or trenchant criticisms but I can say
his voice is in fine form. Purchase
three is Beauty of the Baroque by
Australian born opera singer Danielle de Niese.
Her voice is cream and honey and when I play this album in my car I don’t
think so much about driving into telephone poles or off bridges. I am truly excited to be slowly (very slowly)
exploring a type of music I know nothing about.
The last album is the 1993 release Black
Tie White Noise by David Bowie, one of the few main Bowie albums I needed. I won’t go into details (yet) except to say
this particular work is very groove based, lots of thick beats, prominent basslines
and lush arrangements. As with all of
his albums, I will need a great deal of time to fully digest it and soak in all
the details. Right now my favorite track
is Miracle Goodnight and I have listened to nothing but this track and Come
Again: Sweet Love Doth Now Invite from Ms. de Niese’s album the past couple
days. As ever, I feel a great swell of
gratitude that there is so much music available for listening in this
world.
I counted and I woke 19 times last night, sometimes from the
throes of a truly horrific nightmare. There
was a half empty bottle of red wine by my mantle and I finished it off at one
point and though this made me woozy I was still unable to obtain a sound
sleep. I saw her eyes and though I’ve
looked into them a thousand times before – never once feeling worthy – I am
still unable to determine whether they are brown or blue. She took my hands in hers and brought me
close and she smelled wonderful and like nothing before and this made me
nervous and scared and excited. I wished
for her to wrap her hands around my throat and she knew this without my having
to say so but she would not comply. Instead
she brought me closer and kissed my forehead and there were tears running down
my face. She says “No lloras mijo” and her voice calms
all storms
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