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danne |
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
de significância •
i wish i had the courage to step uninvited into your schedule where i need to be and: if you hadn't told me otherwise, nothing would have made me doubt for a second that you were the wonder-ful person who wrote those words. Lord, i owe you so much though often feel so little, for what you have given i'd run for the scrap of paper in my jacket where i've jotted down phrases that reminded me of you, just because they'd be the sort of meaningless pretty pieces of the language that i'd blurt out to you when we're walking arm in arm down the street, then ask you later, what on earth was that i did utter? as down the concrete hallway he trod, you could hear the sound of the kneading of his heels into the earth, "i do love your tempered womanliness, he murmured. learning further in: and i do fear i love you more for the parsimony with which you choose to so behave; with a light laugh - isn't is precious how we speak so in vaulted whisper? how cloyingly paltered, like the things we paint gaily in conversation, with distaste " we've only just begun, to live i'm slowly falling in love with bossa all over again (not that i ever fell out, it just sort of felt like unfaithfulness, willing yet technically blameless) this afternoon i walked back with cold sweat and feeling pretty queasy, but i decided to just go ahead with the plan; changed and washed to get clean into a new frame of mind like i've come to like doing put the stereo under the bed onto track seven and - in warmth that could only be called so for the artificial cold lay flat, clutching the sheets and cotton from beneath i got up at the end of the compilation and got on with life and that's how music has a coarse, comforting sort of touch on me. perhaps it's a sign. the discourse on beauty today reminded me of something; of how though we find it hard to know what is art, we hardly find it as difficult to call things art, airily. so if art is meant to represent, perhaps it is not so important what things represent, but that things represent important things to us. as reminders of affections we attach to metaphors for the bits of the fabric of life. and so perhaps it's not so important what is or isn't a sign, but that we are reminded of something important from time to time, through our way of living. for so often we might say, oh! is this what you signify when you did such and such an action, but the reply comes as, why no, i didn't mean anything at all. the value of the lesson learned is inherent, whether or not there actually is a teacher; life is the teacher for us, whether we actively pay attention and pick them out wherever we are given to so do, then ask relevant questions through our responses to the twists that she gives, that is more important, perhaps. so maybe she gives the beautiful answers to questions about life, only then. we've only just begun! to live our life in singing isn't coming to an end, friend. our education(in song) has just begun, and life will keep teaching us about voices and music through our lives, whether one becomes a maestro or a mother, and the true singing is the gentle road of living a life of song. not ending, or beginning to sing. only, the gaussian-ed crescents of our voices in song wafting our hearts into the time-weathered skies over the homes of the people whom we will and do love 6:46 pm |