the darkest parts of midnight and the bright light of day.
the hiss and crackle of vinyl.
a shoulder to cry on.
a tall mug of something strong to sip slowly.
Snippets of a review I read about Jenny Lewis's Rabbit Fur Coat. Phrases that jump out at me and lodge themselves somewhere in my subconscious. Striking a chord, making my eyes do a double-take, my heart skipping a beat.
It happens from time to time. Particular phrases from articles; lyrics; images from films, magazines. Sometimes even words. Just a word. Say, a word like Atlantic, or troubadour. That haunt me, tug at my subconscious - anxious to be recognised.
This yearning I have not yet known what to put a name to. A deep, painful search to place a feeling I don't even recognise. Something, something that is there. That reasonates so strongly with my psyche, so bad that I can cry sometimes, but never being able to reconcile it to something tangible. Just what is it?
It feels like a memory I've lost somewhere along the way. Something I've once known. And it's terribly important, and is probably the thing that has influenced my every thought and action today. But I just can't remember and it frustrates the hell out of me.
Well, here's the woman I adore with hair the colour of a Pacific sunset. The song's You Are What You Love - a favourite.
While I'm at it, here's another Pacific-sunset-haired songstress - Neko Case with the beautiful song, Maybe Sparrow.
I lean my head slowly to the side, reflect on the camellia on the moss
of the temple, reflect on a cup of tea, while outside the wind is rustling
the foliage, the forward rush of life is crystallised in a brilliant jewel
of a moment that knows neither plans nor future, human destiny is rescued
from the pale succession of days, glows with light at last and, surpassing
time, warms my tranquil heart.