"Soft"
Some songs breathe achingly familiar visions and take you places you didn't know you were yearning for. Places you've never been. Places you cry yourself to sleep trying to reconstruct with fragments of memories and hopes for the future. "How soft we ache for a feeling we cannot recall." Off-kilter, chunky rhythms. Layers of texture and sound. Sunny beaches and large open spaces. Driving across the Midwest plains toward the setting sun, wind blowing in my hair. "Those were lovely days." The keyboard builds in waves of raw emotion and longing, like coming to the crest of a hill whose summit you know won't bring the happiness and release you're looking for. You reach the top and exhale. Whatever it is, whatever you're looking for - it's still out of reach, "past the horizon." So lay back and take a breath. Enjoy the here. The now. This music is best experienced in nature.
Some songs breathe achingly familiar visions and take you places you didn't know you were yearning for. Places you've never been. Places you cry yourself to sleep trying to reconstruct with fragments of memories and hopes for the future. "How soft we ache for a feeling we cannot recall." Off-kilter, chunky rhythms. Layers of texture and sound. Sunny beaches and large open spaces. Driving across the Midwest plains toward the setting sun, wind blowing in my hair. "Those were lovely days." The keyboard builds in waves of raw emotion and longing, like coming to the crest of a hill whose summit you know won't bring the happiness and release you're looking for. You reach the top and exhale. Whatever it is, whatever you're looking for - it's still out of reach, "past the horizon." So lay back and take a breath. Enjoy the here. The now. This music is best experienced in nature.
"Happiness/Let Child Roam"
Sleepwalking down a trampled path scattered with rocks and roots . . . stumbling past twilight to an opening in the canopy of fragrant trees. Stars without number bespeckle the velvety sky over a glassy pool of still, silent waters. One glance at my reflection, then a poignant question full of tenderness and thorns: "Do you let the ones you love be happy? Is there selfless core love inside your winter dove?" Drumstick clacks and strumming banjos shake me out of crippling self-examination and introspection - force me to look outside of myself. Terraced sound. Terraced thoughts. "Oh this time cannot last /Cannot face back /Toward the nameless happy past?"
"Birthday Song for Bridgegirl"
"Cross that bridge if it moves you." Advice for my daughter. This music moves me. It makes me feel.
"Cross that bridge if it moves you." Advice for my daughter. This music moves me. It makes me feel.
2 comments:
beautiful, Suz - I'm getting this as soon as I get some cash - thanks for sharing - I love them.
I haven't heard of them, enjoying it. Thanks for sharing.
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