Songs, tears
I have a classical lesson in less than an hour, and I haven't been practicing because of recording. should I fake that I've been practicing and play a scale/rhythm I've never played for her before?
Sometimes I type a random word into winamp's music library and listen to the playlist it generates. Since Christmas eve, my favorite playlist has been the one generated by the word "lament". It's had some huaynos, a couple of salsas and cumbias, a zamba by Cafrune, and now, months later I find that my "lament" playlist has nearly doubled in size as a result of copying some more Argentine music, Lindomar Castilho, and the Julio Iglecias discography to my hard drive. I find this amusing and ironic.
on Saturday we record. I finalized the lyrics today after a bout of inspiration yesterday afternoon. To me the song seems like a bad version of Pink Floid's "Welcome to the Machine," a metaphor that has always seemed to over simplify the "man versus the system" conflict to me. I started out with an idea of what I wanted to say and the sound I wanted to make and got too mired down in specifics, and now the song doesn't know what it wants to be, the story of everything Americorps touches...
This town is filled with so much hopelessness. This morning I took a minute and stood by the creek, and I thought it could be running with the tears of wrecked lives and dashed hopes. It's a very pacific northwestern kind of hopelessness, plus something else, maybe generations of poverty, or the kind of emptiness I feel radiating from meth users. Sometimes I feel like everything here struggles to hold me back, and the conflicts I cause by trying to push forward, by continuing to be the person I am in spite of not being accepted are waring me and everyone else out. I don't care if I'm run out of town/Americorps on a rail; I'm not forgetting my Spanish, I make no apologies for being well-read and traveled and wanting to learn more each day.
Sometimes I type a random word into winamp's music library and listen to the playlist it generates. Since Christmas eve, my favorite playlist has been the one generated by the word "lament". It's had some huaynos, a couple of salsas and cumbias, a zamba by Cafrune, and now, months later I find that my "lament" playlist has nearly doubled in size as a result of copying some more Argentine music, Lindomar Castilho, and the Julio Iglecias discography to my hard drive. I find this amusing and ironic.
on Saturday we record. I finalized the lyrics today after a bout of inspiration yesterday afternoon. To me the song seems like a bad version of Pink Floid's "Welcome to the Machine," a metaphor that has always seemed to over simplify the "man versus the system" conflict to me. I started out with an idea of what I wanted to say and the sound I wanted to make and got too mired down in specifics, and now the song doesn't know what it wants to be, the story of everything Americorps touches...
This town is filled with so much hopelessness. This morning I took a minute and stood by the creek, and I thought it could be running with the tears of wrecked lives and dashed hopes. It's a very pacific northwestern kind of hopelessness, plus something else, maybe generations of poverty, or the kind of emptiness I feel radiating from meth users. Sometimes I feel like everything here struggles to hold me back, and the conflicts I cause by trying to push forward, by continuing to be the person I am in spite of not being accepted are waring me and everyone else out. I don't care if I'm run out of town/Americorps on a rail; I'm not forgetting my Spanish, I make no apologies for being well-read and traveled and wanting to learn more each day.