Growing up, I remember hearing the expression "they must have a wild hair" when someone was talking about a person doing something crazy. I always imagined a lady with her smooth, straight hair pulled back into a tight bun, and then there would be one absolutely crazy spring-like curl sticking up out of her head.
Then I realized ALL MY HAIR IS WILD HAIR. So I don't even need an excuse for anything I do.
My fro at 8 years old:
This morning I was reminded, by my hair, that it does indeed have a mind of its own, and that it is all 100% wild.
____________________________________
Speaking of hair, it has been a year since I chopped it off in a moment of desperation (well, I technically got my brother to do the official 'chopping'). For future reference: Don't make major choices about your appearance when your mother is in the hospital. It all turned out ok, thankfully.
I went from this:
To this:
It's well on its way to being long again. It sits on my shoulders right now when it's straightened, which is exciting.
Where did we leave off? Oh yes, a quote from Bon Iver's Holocene.
The reason I chose to quote Bon Iver yesterday was because I was going to see him at the Ryman that night! I couldn't say anything 'officially', though, because I bought Josh a ticket for his birthday (which is in August) and he had no idea! I loooove surprises. And he was surprised.
Bon Iver was wonderful, and the Ryman was the perfect venue to experience the music live (of course). His music is all misty-dim-sparkling.
My one complaint about the show: too many guys wearing plaid. Bleh.
Setlist:
Perth Minnesota, WI Holocene Towers Creature Fear Team Beach Baby Hinnom, TX Wash. Blood Bank If Hollywood Don't Need You (Don Williams cover) Re: Stacks Calgary Beth/Rest For Emma
Encore: Flume The Wolves (Act I and II) Skinny Love (Unplugged)
Disappointed that we didn't hear this one, but we listened to it over and over in the car on the way home:
Afterwards was coffee and bagels at Cafe Coco, of course.
P.S. Don't worry Ryman: I'll be back on the 6th to visit you for The Decemberists.
A Seasame Street song that has NEVER escaped my brain.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
…and at once I knew I was not magnificent strayed above the highway aisle (jagged vacance, thick with ice) I could see for miles, miles, miles
-Bon Iver Holocene
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
At around 10:00 yesterday the servers (as in computers, not waiters) at my office decided that they were going to take a break, so we go to take the rest of the day off (well, we have to come in early now to make it up, but that's ok with me). I went home and packed/organized in my flaming hot room (88 degrees, not joking) and accomplished alot. Then Gabe and I went to Panera to work on vintage-business stuff and to eat dinner. We got to talk about art and studio space and what makes an artist productive. We got to talk about church. We got to talk about existence and community and being adults (making money, paying rent, being confused, you know, adult-y stuff). It was good. My life is so good. And it will be practically PERFECT in almost every way when I get all moved out.
_________________________________
Tomorrow night I am going to do something so wonderful, but I can't say what because it is a surprise for someone's birthday. I'm so excited. I love surprises.
One week till my birthday. My my my, my my my, my oh my. ____________________________________
Speaking of birthdays, Saturday night was a friend's birthday party. He was having a Star Wars costume party. I spent the morning rigging up a version of Padme's 'packing' gown from Episode II. It turned out pretty well, if I may say so myself.
The Original:
My version (photo courtesy of Josh's iphone):
(Padme, Count Dooku, Boba Fett, and Han Solo - not sure why we all look so short . . .)
I didn't have any silver ribbons, so the sleeves weren't gathered in that awesome way like the original, but I was ok with that. And I sewed the beads onto the front panel during a car ride with my mom that afternoon, and while it isn't exactly the same, I think it works. I had determined to spend no money on the outfit and use materials I already had. It looks Star Wars-esque-spacey enough. It was a lovely night.
Before I left for the party, my niece said, "Oh! If they have Star Wars cookies bring me one!" To which I replied: "There won't be Star Wars cookies. I don't even think those exist."
I was proven VERY wrong:
____________________________________
My good friend Cayla took me out for a pre-birthday birthday dinner last night and we got to sit for a few hours and catch up, which was WONDERFUL.
Friday, July 22, 2011
I've finally realized what it is about my shiny black/silver Vera Wang coat that I love:
It is the feeling of seeing it, because it feels/looks like the wet, black boughs in this poem:
In a Station of the Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd ; Petals on a wet, black bough. — Ezra Pound
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Last night was an interesting time for me, and by 'me' I mean me, my very soul.
First of all, I was recovering from the cold, so I didn't feel so great. I decided to watch Blue. I had gotten from amazon like two weeks before and hadn't had an opportunity to watch it, so I decided this was the time to watch it. Well mercy, it will take a toll on you.
After I watched it, I went to take True Grit back to the red box up the street. As soon as I got into my car, Bon Iver's new album started playing (it was in the cd player) and it made me feel so sad.
It was one of those moments when your senses are so in tune with each other that it is almost more than you can take. I almost backed into a car as I left the gas station where the red box was, that's how distracted and weird I was feeling. As I pulled back into my driveway, tears were welling up in my eyes. I sat in my car for a while to chill out. Back in my room, I knew I should be packing up more books, but I wandered around listlessly picking things up and setting them back down. Then I heard a wee little knock at my door. "Beeka, can I come in?" It was my niece. I said sure and she came in and snuggled up in my bed with me and we just lay there with our faces pressed together, talking; she was firing the questions this time. She was asking me questions about karma and grace (pretty darn advanced for a 10 year old, wouldn't you say). She was asking me if I remembered when she was little and she would ask me who I wanted to marry. She was asking me how to say 'good night' in Portuguese. She was asking me if I thought I would move far away. She was asking me if I could take her shopping for school clothes. She was asking me if I liked my job. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her so tightly until she was like, "Um, I can't breathe . . ." I finally let go of her and said, "I love you so much." I almost started to cry. She, of course, said, "I love you too so much, Beeka," which was exactly what I needed to hear at that moment. I am so thankful for her, the dear little messenger of grace that she is. She, of course, probably thinks I'm crazy after all that, but it's nothing she isn't used to.
Maybe that's the beginning of my quarter life crisis. Only 11 days til lift off.
____________________________________
Going to eat with lots of friends in Gallatin at a place on the square called "The Pizza Machine." Community. Mmm.
(That's me hallucinating about sharing cough syrup with the moon)
So, yesterday, Moonday, I spent sick. I woke up with a sore throat out of no-where, still went running at 5:30 am, and then stumbled through the day as my head became foggier and foggier, but as soon as 3:00 rolled around, it got much worse. I got my mom to drive me to the rite-aid because I didn't think I could drive (it's right down the street). I lay in the super warm bathtub, took lots of medicine, drank iced unsweet Passion tea, and watched French films until I fell asleep. For being deathly-ill, it was a pretty good set of things to be doing. But where did I get this random cold? I felt perfectly fine before! Gah. During my drug-induced sleep last night, I dreamed that I was watching the sky to see lightning strikes, and as soon as they happened, I would fly over, take this giant golden needle with a string on it and stab the lightning with it. I was threading bits of lightning together (for some reason). That's all I remember.
Ah Tuesday: I'm still sick. Hopefully I can get rid of it today, I have lots of packing to be doing, and lots of painting to finish.
____________________________________
Also concerning the moon:
"Sometimes you remind me of a moonbeam, Or the ghost of a moonbeam out on the beach," Bob Schneider 40 Dogs
and
"Tonight, the moon is playing tricks again I'm feeling seasick again. The whole world could just dissolve Into a glass of water." U2 If You Wear That Velvet Dress
and
"You'd put the moon in a basket on your bike front by the coast The way your face lit up in pale grief, you were a ghost"
Robert Francis Junebug (one of the greatest songs)
Monday, July 18, 2011
I cry every time. And then it was on Tree of Life, but I was already crying. What do you do? Cry more.
____________________________________
I used to sing this song all the time when I was little. I think I'll try to convince my brother to cover this with me. ____________________________________
I'm turning 25 in 14 days. Two weeks. I'm excited. Mmmhmm.
____________________________________
Woke up early on Sunday and worked on packing for a few hours. Moving is such a delightful inconvenience, in this situation at least. I can't wait to have my own house all set up! Then I worked on lots of stuff for our vintage business with Gabe. So much scanning of old books went on. I got to spend lots of time with Chelsey and Gabe at Starbucks last night. We just sat and talked forever about all sorts of things: Myers-Briggs Personality Types, crazy people, the Church, our families, and grocery shopping. It was good.
____________________________________
I got up at 5:20 this morning to go running. It has been so hot the past month or so that I haven't been able to go run, so I decided to just get up when it was still cool(ish) and go for it. It worked out pretty well, so maybe that's just what I'll do from now on.
So, I'm not a huge Harry Potter fan. I haven't read the books, and I hadn't seen any of the movies until last Christmas when my brother and I consumed all of them in a week in preparation for the final two installments. And I really liked the last few movies the best, especially the last two (Deathly Hallows 1&2).
The ending was so good because Death gets a dose of its own medicine. And on the credits, there was a man listed named Daniel Booty. Ha. (Josh is a 'stay-till-the-end-of-the-credits-to-see-who-can-find-the-weirdest-name' kind of guy, and I think I won this round thanks to Mr. Booty)
AND the end of the ending happened at 3:30 am, with this lady having to get up for work at 6:30. But it was worth it, to see the end of something that has been such an important part of my friend's lives with my friends (I went with Tanya, Josh, Keith, and a few younger guys from their church). And now I feel CRAZY. It is a feeling that I haven't experienced since I wrote my last paper in college: the sleepless fruit-loopiness. In school, I was the master of procrastination. THE MASTER. I waited until the night before to write every single paper I wrote. EVERY ONE. Now, that's a lot of papers, considering I was an English major and an Art major (art history papers=death). And I guess I work REALLY well under pressure, because I always managed to make an A (with the exception of the Wallace Stevens and the Imagination paper disaster, but that's another story). Or maybe the A's were just a miracle. Anyways, I would stay up all night, strung out on caffine, thinking, researching, highlighting, laying out papers, and finally writing. At around 3 am, I would get so tired that I would set my alarm for two hours, then get back up and finish writing. Once I turned it in, I would feel so glad to have the burden of the paper off my shoulders and feel insanely free and happy all day and be completely worthless as far as functioning normally or accomplishing anything went. Fun times.
Flash forward two years: I am drawing molecules at work for a science textbook, and it just seems so hilarious that I need to tell a friend about it. She doesn't get it. She thinks I'm crazy, but I'm actually just sleep-deprived. It's a good thing this movie was on a Thursday night, so I just have to make it through Friday, which is usually a good day anyway. Whoo! HOOO! I will sleep great tonight. And then keep packing for the big move into the city.
____________________________________
I think this blog is becoming more a journal-type creature, which I'm ok with. Journal and music video catch-all.
Guess what? It's ok for me to be angry about things. In fact, it's more than ok; it's absolutely and completely RIGHT. So there.
I don't want the shallow feelings that can't allow for anger. I don't want the naivety that says, "Anger is wrong. It makes you unhappy." By stifling anger with thoughts of "It's all going to work out fine," I single-handedly rob my heart of its ability to feel anything at all. I want to FEEL. I want to want rightness. I want to hate injustice, in all its forms.
(Try to ignore the goofy title on this video)
This scene is one of the reasons I love this movie. It has its issues, but all in all, I think Enchanted is great. I grew up on fairy tales. My personality is hopeful almost to a fault. But waking up is nice. I'm sick of super sweet, idiotic princesses who have never experienced anything worth being angry about in their lives. I'm sick of princes who want to keep them that way.
I want to be REAL. I want to be WELL (yes, Sufjan, well). I want to be a whole person. Of course, it's pretty safe for me to be angry because I hate confrontation, so in the end, I really think I'll be ok. Or whatever.
Know what I love more than the ability to be angry? The ability to love, forgive, the ability to rebel against death and delight in reconciliation. None of those things can happen without a bit of anger in there. I'm convinced.
Somewhat related: I told my brother yesterday that in order for U2 to have another truly great album, they need to get angry about something and try to come to terms with it. Don't get me wrong, I love their last few albums and their blatant hopefulness, but I miss the realness, the balance of anger and hope of The Unforgettable Fire, The Joshua Tree, Rattle and Hum, Achtung Baby.
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold You say you want your story to remain untold. All the promises we make From the cradle to the grave When all I want is you.
You say you'll give me a highway with no-one on it Treasure, just to look upon it All the riches in the night.
You say you'll give me eyes in the moon of blindness A river in a time of dryness A harbour in the tempest. All the promises we make, from the cradle to the grave When all I need is you.
You say you want your love to work out right To last with me through the night.
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold Your story to remain untold Your love not to grow cold. All the promises we break, from the cradle to the grave When all I want is you.
(Look, I know it's weird that these lyrics say, "When all I need is you" in the second verse, but I got them straight from U2's website, so I'm not going to change it.)
Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her name was Meiska. She worked every weekday for forever and looked forward with great anticipation to the long Fourth of July weekend. Three whole days. Now, Meiska was accustomed to experiencing weekends of only two day's length, so this was a real treat. The extra day alone would have made the weekend special, but this was to be an enchanted weekend of delight: Tree of Life. Coffee. Shooting stars. U2 concert. Fireworks from the Woodland Street Bridge. Communal time at the cabin.
Let's start at the beginning: Friday, 4:31 pm . . .
Meiska rushed from her office to her car, Penelope, and sped away to the land of Hendersonville. There she dined with her mother and was then whisked away to see the film Tree of Life with the salad-bearing Joshua-friend (note: the words Joshua and Tree are in that sentence). No trip to Hillsboro Village is complete without a stop at Fido, so the two stopped in for a cuppa joe and to see where Meiska would soon be having her paintings displayed and then traveled on to their real destination. Then, at the Belcourt, Nashville's royal art house theatre, they watched in awe as a story of youth, innocence, guilt, family, beauty, fear, time, love, death, and life bloomed before their eyes. Meiska had a constant stream of tears flowing from her wide-open eyes as the purity of the emotions from the film seeped into her being. "Mercy," she thought, "am I going to recover from this one?"
As the two walked back to Penelope, the Joshua-friend looked up into the night sky and saw a shooting star. Meiska, being one to regularly fish for shooting stars, felt an intense need for a star or two herself, so off they drove to the highest point in Nashville: Love Circle. Their purpose was two fold in visiting this place: 1. Shooting star fishing 2. See the U2 stage before the show the next day From the comfort of the handy green blanket, they could see that the lights were off in the stadium, so there was no spying of the claw, but there were indeed stars aplenty. They feasted on stars and good conversation until the wee hours of the morning.
The next day was the U2 concert. Now, U2 is Meiska's favorite band of all time, and she has seen them in concert before (Atlanta, 2009), but that concert she experienced from a seat, not General Admission. This time around, she had her heart set on being in the "inner circle," a ring around the stage that holds the first 2000 people. She wanted to really, really see Bono, The Edge, Adam Clayton, and Larry Mullen Jr. And so she went for the general admission tickets in the pre-sale (yes, she is a geeky website-subscriber), and then she convinced her fellow concert goers to wait all day in line to get into the "inner circle." And so the day of the concert, the entire house slept in until around 10 and then headed straight to Vanderbilt Stadium. The Joshua-friend's car died in White House, so Penelope and Meiska rescued him, and then went to get a good place in line. Meiska and the Joshua-friend got the numbers 908 and 910. The parentals were right behind them. It should be stated that it was one of the hottest days of the year and waiting outside for several hours wasn't the most delightful thing you can do on such a day, but the flaming hot tediousness was eased by the Joshua-friend teaching Meiska how to play Mancala and card games, Meiska showing off some of her tintype collection, and watching ants attack and carry off the spoils of a war with the Joshua-friend's pizza box (ants love Schlotzsky's Mediterranean Pizza, apparently). Finally, at around 5:30, they got into the stadium. They walked very quickly, as they were told, to the gate to get into the "inner circle." They were in! They sat up camp directly in front of the stage, but close to the track that Bono runs around when he sings Where the Streets Have No Name in case he wanted to pull Meiska up onto the stage for a dance (which she wouldn't have been opposed to). Finally, after sitting on a scorching metal floor in the sun, the sun drifted further south in space, and Florence and the Machine began to play. Meiska was delighted. Florence Welch is a modern Pre-Raphaelite beauty. Meiska knew that Dante Gabriel Rossetti would have immediately fallen madly in love with Florence Welch, had he ever met her (not that that would have been unusual for him). Meiska's freshly married baby brother Luke, sitting in section A of the stadium, sent her a text while Florence was on stage that said, "That lady is really weird!" And Meiska's freshly employed production desiner/fashion designer/musician/artist brother, Gabriel, seated in section V of the stadium, sent her a text right after that that said, "Her costume is gorgeous!" Everyone loved Florence, but they were ready for the REAL reason they came to the concert: U2. Finally the speakers began to play Bowie's Space Oddity and Meiska's heart skipped a beat as the band came out onto the stage and opened with Even Better Than the Real Thing and three other songs from Achtung Baby. Meiska, the Joshua-friend, and the parentals continued to enjoy the show from the close, close range of less than 20 feet from the band. Meiska was so close, she could count The Edge's wrinkles (which were relatively few for his age). Bono and The Edge passed over Meiska's head on the bridges. They performed The Wanderer and Bono talked about Johnny Cash and visiting Hendersonville (where the parentals live!). Meiska sang and sighed and danced and took pictures until she thought her heart would burst. Finally the band played With or Without You, Meiska's favorite, and even though they left out the "Yeah, we'll shine like stars in the Summer night . . ." bit, it was glorious. And so real. Bono got out his shiny light jacket for Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me. When it was all over, Meiska and the Joshua-friend made their way out into the streets, bought a shirt, and headed home. Meiska's fizzy mind, laughing eyes, and muffled ears floated home on a cloud of happy.
A little video I put together (it's not spectacular, but it shall suffice):
Set List: Even Better Than The Real Thing The Fly Mysterious Ways Until The End Of The World I Will Follow Get On Your Boots I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For The Wanderer Stay (Faraway, So Close!) Beautiful Day Elevation Pride (In The Name Of Love) Miss Sarajevo Zooropa City Of Blinding Lights Vertigo I'll Go Crazy / Discotheque Sunday Bloody Sunday Scarlet Walk On Encore One Where The Streets Have No Name Encore 2 Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me With Or Without You Moment Of Surrender All I Want is You
The next day, Sunday, saw soreness like none Meiska had experienced before. Apparently standing in the sun for 6 hours, and then standing for 3 more hours in the moonlight, is enough to almost kill a person. Meiska's back threw a tantrum, and Meiska appeased it by taking it to Casa Vieja for a Chile Relleno. The Joshua-friend ate veggie fajitas. Then they attempted a rescue of his car. Mon pere said that the Joshua-friend's car probably just had a broken belt, which was excellent news to the Joshua-friend's ear, much better than he was thinking it would be. They drove to the car to discover if it was indeed the belt. As Meiska cut wild flowers, she heard joyful shouting from the Joshua-friend. "There's no belt!" he (happily) cried. And they drove away. Meiska spent the rest of the day binge eating episodes of Grey's Anatomy (her great vice) and laying in the front yard fishing for more stars (once you get some, you just can't stop). And finally Meiska made it to Monday, a day she would have normally been sitting at her desk in her office, drawing away, but was instead being spent cleaning her room (an activity she relishes). Gabriel finally came home, so the siblings drove to Cracker Barrel to eat American food on Independence Day. They had an excellent server named Terri who was amazing, then they went out to the porch to play checkers for FOREVER. It should be noted that Meiska hates the game of checkers. Meiska drove into the city to find the fireworks. The Joshua-Friend met up with her and they made their way up onto the Woodland Street Bridge, over looking the temperamental Cumberland River. Soon, they were attacked by an army of insects: gnats, spiders, skinny moths, and one beetle. Soon they were joined by lots of people; lots of strangers and a few friends, all fireworks lovers. They were so close to the fireworks. Meiska couldn't stop laughing. The Joshua-friend couldn't pick his jaw up off the ground. The kids all around them couldn't stop squealing with delight! They were all delighted people. The celebrating continued at the Cabin, seasoned with laughter, good cheer, friends, descriptions of what velvet would taste like if it were a drink, and sleepiness. The day finally unwound into the next and after Gabriel opened the trick door to let her out, Meiska drove to work with a sleepy contentedness. Mmm.
