home is the place where they catch you when you fall (and we all fall)
i think that sometimes red wine tastes better in paper cups. like when you're sitting on the polished hardwood floor of the healing arts centre and hope for agoldensummer is playing and nobody's wearing any shoes and one whole wall is covered with mirrors so you can observe the entire scene from an outsider's perspective, as though watching a vibrant film, but still be a part of the intimacy and community of the moment.
when there's a glowing fish tank in the wall directly behind the drummer, and local art above the enormous windows, and it doesn't matter that the ordinary, wooden ceiling fans fracture the otherwise mystical ambiance of the room. because this is the South, and it's summer, and as claire sings of collard greens, malt liquor, and God, the reason we are all here is somehow revealed to you. imperfections are meaningless, void. there is comfort, hope, joy. as the smiling campbell sisters sing "i play music because i'm in love with silence and sound," you are lifted with them and you understand that it's everyone who is making the music. the experience is both humbling and exalting.
when the air is warm and thick, when the faces are familiar, you can't be sure of the exact cause of such headiness. but you are infinitely grateful to be sitting on that shiny floor, holding a paper cup filled with wine.
when there's a glowing fish tank in the wall directly behind the drummer, and local art above the enormous windows, and it doesn't matter that the ordinary, wooden ceiling fans fracture the otherwise mystical ambiance of the room. because this is the South, and it's summer, and as claire sings of collard greens, malt liquor, and God, the reason we are all here is somehow revealed to you. imperfections are meaningless, void. there is comfort, hope, joy. as the smiling campbell sisters sing "i play music because i'm in love with silence and sound," you are lifted with them and you understand that it's everyone who is making the music. the experience is both humbling and exalting.
when the air is warm and thick, when the faces are familiar, you can't be sure of the exact cause of such headiness. but you are infinitely grateful to be sitting on that shiny floor, holding a paper cup filled with wine.