One of my favorite artists… I immediately smile when I hear the voice of Mac Powell, lead singer of Third Day. This band, and this voice, have been with me intimately during a couple rough seasons of life and I think it’s almost a conditioned response that I break out in a grin when I hear him sing.
It’s funny, the more you befriend yourself, the more you begin to recognize the various “selves” of you. For instance, I can tell when life is becoming overwhelming or bland, as I begin retreating to my hideaways of memoir, like living fluently in Florence, Italy, or picking up new words in Swahili, back on safari. Hiking through the Blue Ridge mountains.
And suddenly I’m feeling nostalgic for the “me” who loved listening to French music while wandering old apartments, who felt opportunity mixed with young adult rebellion in her glass of red. I studied French for seven years and then lived abroad in Italy. Go figure.
Music does something transformative to us, physiologically and emotionally. We time travel to familiar melodies and reminisce as our synapses are flooded with do-overs or do-agains. I love this description from Kat’s blog about the vanity of our decisions through time: “When you’re young, the irresistible thing about about being grown up is the freedom to do whatever you want. When you’re grown up, the irresistible thing about being young is the impermanence of your decisions.” And music only intensifies this.
At times, the former “me” could be soothed with countless iterations of Amelie and Yann Tiersen and crooning Charles Aznavour. And now I’ve found someone new to amuse myself with. Coeur de Pirate. Lovely.
Peter said to Paul, “You know, all those words we wrote are just the rules of the game and the rules are the first to go. But now talking to God is Laurel beggin’ Hardy for a gun. I got a girl in the war, man, I wonder what it is we’ve done.”
Paul said to Peter, “You gotta rock yourself a little harder. Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire.”
Perfect song for today… the rain is so insulating.
This one makes me think of being in a remote location… and Jack Kerouac’s “The Dharma Bums”. Perhaps because Justin Vernon spent time hibernating on his own “Desolation Peak” writing these songs. A quiet, warm intimacy of knowing just where you really stand with it all…