Friday, March 29, 2013

Well Earned Soul

"But in the meantime we've got it hard 
Second floor living without a yard 
It may be years until the day 
My dreams will match up with my pay" 

-Mushaboom (Feist)

Occasionally I write bad poetry. 

That is not to say the rest of the time I write good poetry. I just don't write the rest of the time. 

But usually when I'm writing poetry it's an attempt to capture the purest feeling that I am feeling at that moment and bottle it up and show it to other people and hope that little bit of feeling looks familiar to them. 

Like they have a bottle in their pocket with the same feeling. 

I think this is how a lot of artists feel (far be it from me to use that word to describe myself). And occasionally I'll be listening to another artist's words and they'll jump out of the pages and speak to me. So clearly, so precisely  I have to pull out my own little bottle of feelings and compare because that person must have stolen mine. 

"But I went to Walden Pond a year ago, just to see and feel the place, just to walk alone around the water, and they've made a suburb out of it. It hurts to hear the traffic rolling in through the trees...and I wonder if Walden exists anymore. I am not talking about the real Walden...I am talking about the earth God meant to speak before we finished His sentence." - Donald Miller (Through Painted Deserts) 

Sometimes I don't like feeling things, especially when I feel like I can't communicate them into words for the people around me. It feels like I'm stuck behind a black curtain holding out my bottle of feelings for nobody in particular. 

But sometimes, somebody will reach back blindly, holding their little bottle of feelings out to me, and I remember that we're, none of us, alone. 

“Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.”

I'm curious, are there any artists that make you feel this way?

No comments:

Post a Comment