Showing posts with label weekend song. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weekend song. Show all posts

weekend song | The Tree By The River

Iron & Wine's Kiss Eachother Clean came out in 2011, when I was living in my studio apartment in Portland with Eli. We both loved that album; listened to it all the way through, nonstop, on Saturday mornings while I swept the checkered linoleum floors and he made coffee in the french press. It's one of the albums that feels so tied to a person, to a place -- to my life at 23.  I hadn't listened to it much since then. Not out of avoidance or anything. The songs just weren't living to me anymore. They were artifacts. 

I was sitting on the back porch last summer, while the man I'm dating now was inside playing guitar. The windows were open and the music came out. And, I recognized the song ... but just barely. It didn't sound anything like the boppy, upbeat version from the record. A song about two people who grow up and grow apart, and eventually into a different relationship. really, a different life. 
 
Time isn't kind or unkind you used to say, but I wonder to who.
and what it is you're saying today. 

It knocked the wind out of me. I thought of all the times we'd listened to that song and how I'd never really heard the words before. It sounded just like kind of agnostic thing Eli would say. For a flash of a moment, all the space that separated now from then collapsed in on itself. And all I could see was us there, in that apartment, listening to this song and not knowing (or maybe, always knowing) how we'd be strangers someday. 

How, eventually, we wouldn't even think about each other much anymore.  Except for after the occasional pang, from the sharp corner of the empty space.

(listen) Iron & Wine - Tree by the River (photo) on expired film | the alley along Mississippi Ave, 2011. 

weekenders | You R in Love

Seattle felt like moving backwards. The weather, the neighborhood streets lined with craftsman homes -- they're basically like Oregon. Like the first part of my life, where I grew up. Like those middle two years, in Portland. 

When I moved to the East Coast, I felt this colossal opening-up. There were all these experiences I'd never had before: oysters, fireflies, waist-high snow, calling liquor stores "the packie." It silenced the nagging voice I had inside my head that I was missing out on the adventure of my twenties. Now my day-to-day was full of strangeness. My life was filling up with stories, just by being there. Just by paying attention.

The familiarity of Seattle made me feel settled here, in a way I wasn't sure I wanted. 
But the other night, I surprised myself. This Taylor Swift song was playing in my head phones, the rain had slowed and the skyline was lighting up across the lake. I was hit with a feeling of unfolding. It was a rush of newness, like falling in love, as a whole new future took shape. 

weekend reading | Drawing Girl's Stories

(listen) Taylor Swift - You R In Love. I caught them playing it, mixed in with all the hip music, at my favorite Seattle coffee shop | It's also Lena Dunham's "someday wedding song."

weekend song | Ribs (+ the fear of growing old)

About every three or four days this summer, the Massachusetts heat would culminate in a thunderstorm. One night a week I'd roll the host stand inside and spend my shift in the dim, air conditioned bar.  A few days before my 27th birthday, Jesse (the bartender) put on this song from the Lorde album. it feels so scary getting old. 

For February (and most of 2013 really) I couldn't shake a feeling, somewhere deep inside me, that I was almost dead. Not as a metaphor ... in real, existential terms. Scientifically, a third of my life is almost over and aging, it will never never stop. 

For my whole life, I'd had this image of being 30. It was like a plateau. Time would pause. And all the things that I imagined for my life - the house with the built in bookshelves, pushing a stroller through the farmer's market - I'd live them. Around 50, time would start again. My hair would go gray. 

Because that's how it looked. That's how I saw my parents when I was a kid. They were constant, until one day they were old.  But, the closer I get to the meeting point (to the point when my memories start, to the first image of my parents) the more I feel certain that time was only constant for me back then. For them, it was hurtling by.  

I felt - and I have felt, for the last two years - that it was all already over. 

But this summer made me feel young again. It sounds so silly, but all those evenings spent standing on the patio in a pair of cut-off jean shorts returned me to myself. I owe the brewery and my friends there everything for that. They reminded me that there is something alive in me, something wild. 


(p.s) this is actually Lorde's favorite on the album | with a Broken Social Scene reference

weekend song | Favorite Song

I almost played this song out on our drive up to Maine a few weeks ago (almost.) As the chorus says: I'm all about that jam. It's not like it gets to me on any emotional level  - unless you count the irrepressible urge to be poolside as an emotion. Must be that sample.

(p.s.) fun fact: The Childish Gambino is Donald Glover. Remember his kiss with Hannah on Girls?

weekend song | Drove Me Wild


LISTEN TO THIS SONG IF YOU ...
... have a memory that sounds like this:  When I think of you, I think of your skin, golden brown from the sun.  {If you don't have one, you can borrow mine.}
.... enjoy unapologetticaly pop-y music that's reminiscent of the Go-Go's
... would sign a petition changing the official name of spring to "the start of iced-coffee season"

(listen) Tegan and Sara - Drove Me Wild (photos) on film with Pentax | patio happyhour somewhere in SE Portland

weekenders | Song for Zula

now my heart is gold, my feet are right  and I'm racing out on the desert plains all night.
this is a song about the way that love changes you, when it comes and when it leaves. it's both heartbroken and triumphant (and kind of reminds me of Bruce Springsteen a little bit?) 

weekend reading | On Input

(listen) Phosphorescent - Song for Zula (photo) on film | from the pool deck at the Joshua Tree Inn

weekend song | Keep It To Yourself

Regardless of my current relationship status, if a song is about breaking up I will probably like it. Maybe it's because I needed music the most when I was heartbroken. But, I never really got over that rush of feelings. No matter where I am in my life, break-up songs always bring a little loss and loneliness to the surface. in a good way. Do you know what I mean? Just for three minutes minutes, I'm back in San Diego or my studio apartment and then, when the song ends, I let it go all over again. 

weekend reading | Hashtag Not Over It
ONISM n. the frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time, which is like standing in front of the departures screen at an airport, flickering over with strange place names like other people’s passwords, each representing one more thing you’ll never get to see before you die—and all because, as the arrow on the map helpfully points out, you are here.
  • "conscious uncoupling" explained with Gwyneth gifs. This could possibly be a useful concept. Conscious uncoupling with all sorts of things! bad-attitude baristas, sweaters that shrunk in the wash and are now just a little too short, etc.
(listen) Kacey Musgraves - Keep it to Yourself (photo) on film with Leica CL | wilted peonies at Beast

weekend song | Completely Not Me

February, the first week of the second month. January is done just like *that.* I always feel so capable during this part of the year. Like this time, I've really got it.  It's the equivalent of that day you decide you should start working out. Running feels super awesome - and weirdly easy - and you think to yourself "maybe I'm just naturally in better shape than the last time I tried working out. I mean, I have been walking a lot lately. And stress is kind of like cardio right? my heart is racing all the time." And then it's downhill from there for the next six weeks as your muscles break down and rebuild, until you're finally back in shape again.  But damn if that first day doesn't feel so good. 


(listen) Completely Not Me from Jenny Lewis in collaboration with Rostam Batmanglij of Vampire Weekend. (photo) iPhone + vsco | fog on I-5, Oregon. 

weekenders | Fire

colors, in contrast
For me, the start of October marked the start of PhD application season. The last few weeks have been both exciting and terrifying. It's scary to want something, especially something like this. Most of the programs I'm applying to are very (very. very.) competitive - accepting about six students a year out of two hundred applicants. 

My friend Lisbet has a mantra that she uses when things get intense at the end of the semester or at the end of a relationship. She says you've gotta burn for it. You have to want something bad enough for it to be hard.

I've been putting on this Big Sean song every time I feel overwhelmed. It reminds me of all the work - all the burn - it's taken me to get this far and all the work it's going to take to get me into one of those dream schools. But when it gets hard, I'm just going to burn harder. Tell 'em that I need more fire. 


weekend reading | The Ones Who Burn For It
  • I accidentally saw a picture of you.
  • This is how I feel looking at grad programs sometimes: “My heart started racing, not the bad kind of heart racing, like I'm going to die. But the good kind of heart racing, like, Hello, can I help you with something? If not, please step aside because I'm about to kick the shit out of life.” - Maria Semple, Where'd You Go Bernadette? 
  • a place for sadness.
  • "I've made a life out of 'I didn't love her, but damn if she wasn't cool about the whole thing.'" Meg Fee

(listen) Big Sean - Fire.  The radio edit, which is about half as long, makes this song sound pretty mediocre. It has none of the build, ya know? Go for the four minute version and enjoy that tambourine.  (photo) on film with Pentax k1000

weekenders | The Mother We Share

This song is MY JAM! I've played it on the speakers so loudly every morning this week. Chvrches has that synthy 80s sound (that you know I have such a sweet spot for! see: here and here). It makes me want to hang out with my best friend.

The beginning of October has been absolutely be-a-u-tiful here in Northampton. Yesterday, I went apple picking and today I'm going into Boston to see Miranda July's Lost Child reading/performance. Hello Fall!

weekend reading | Mediated Messages
  • last semester, a friend from one of my classes lent me a copy of Selected Unpublished Blog Posts of a Mexican Panda Express Employee. I love Megan Boyle's use of human detail - mundane, but in combination so meaningful.  Here is one of my favorite "chapters" reprinted on Thought Catalog: Everyone I've Had Sex With. 
  • this video hit a little too close and made me create a "no phones in bed" rule. 
  • you've probably seen it but it made me laugh! hashtag humor.
(listen) Chvrches - The Mother We Share (photo) iPhone + vsco | golden hour on King St

two for | Sunscreen + Solo Cups

sunscreen and solo cups
cribbage and cocktails
Happy Forth of July! I'll be working twelve hour days for the rest of the weekend at the resort'y restaurant where I'm hostessing this summer. But, at least I'll have a good view of the fireworks from the podium! Here's a song to put on while you fill up the solo cups and rub in the sunscreen and light the sparkers for an Instagram. It's so sexy to be living in America

(photos) on film with Pentax K1000 | Detroit Lake, Oregon

weekenders | Don't Save Me

this song is for eighty-degree summer mornings that start with spending two hours in the t-shirt you woke up in and a dance party for one.

weekend reading | Leading Lady
"That was a lovely time in my life in which I took delight, until recently, in a sort of self-destructive way. I'd be like, 'The good thing about when this relationship falls apart will be that I can be alone again and work in the middle of the night.' But it took me a while to realize that it was actually sort of an honor to share a life with this person and to figure out how to do that."
  • also I just generally love Miranda July, so I'm really excited about her new project We Think Alone.  It'll be 20 e-mails over 20 weeks in collaboration with some neat famous folks. 
  • I read her book No One Belongs Here More Than You during the first week I lived in Portland. I had just graduated from college, and I remember reading these words sitting on the waterfront and feeling like they were written for me. 

technicals | Google Reader is Going, Going, Gone. 
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(listen) Haim - Don't Save Me (photo) burned beginning to a roll of film | Joshua Tree 
(p.s.) Go Slow from Haim was my fav song last summer. 

weekenders | Helpless

I like when songs are from a place. Not about something, but about a feeling. "Helpless" sounds like being on your own and missing somewhere. I still need a place to go. It sounds like missing the feeling of home. 

weekend reading | Tell Tale Signs.
(listen) Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young - Helpless (photo) out of focus and on film | Milwaukee

weekenders | Out of Cape Cod

Washed up Lobster Claws
It's the last full week of classes for the semester and everyone here has their sights set on summer. The other day my friend Patrick (who is from Sandwich, a hilariously named Cape Cod town) put on the old Vampire Weekend. I basically wore a hole in that album four years ago, and just enough time has finally passed that I can listen to it and feel nostalgic rather than absolutely sick of it. Living in Massachusetts now, the words all mean something different and it made me laugh to think of myself listening to them as a senior in college in San Diego. Now, here I am, teaching kids who are seniors in college themselves.  Sometimes that feels like a long time ago. But, summer and this song make it feel like yesterday.

weekend reading | Atlantic Seaboard

p.s.
UMass Amherst has one of the few heterodox (read: Marxist) economics departments in the country, which results in graduate research like this. I'm proud to be at a school that questions basic assumptions about capitalism! Also featured on the Colbert Report.


(listen) Walcott by Vampire Weekend  (photo) on film with Leica CL | lobster claws in Provincetown, MA 

weekenders | Everything's Embarrassing

This song has been here and there since October-ish, but on Wednesday morning the sun was coming out and I was questioning whether I'd need my parka. Maybe if you let me be your lover came out of the speakers and it was suddenly just so irresistible  

I felt like a little green bud just bursting open to that synthy, snappy beat. Spring is the season of dance pop!

weekend reading | the art of becoming
(listen) Everything's Embarassing - Sky Ferreira (photo) cherry blossoms and window steam at Frankies in Brooklyn (p.s) thanks for all of your toe-tapping recommendations!

weekend song | Of The Mother Again

Yellowstone
This song has a shimmering sweetness to it - an openness to the way things go. Nothing ever stays the same for too long.  Sometimes change can be just what we needed ... especially if that change is spring.

weekend reading | the nature of things
(listen) Jim James - Of The Mother Again (photo) on 120 film with Diana F+ | Yellowstone National Park

weekend reading:

Seattle look out.
I'm fresh outta weekend songs. What do you recommend? I need some new tunes! 

weekend reading | things that made me laugh + cry (not in that order)

(photo) on film with pentax k1000 | Lily and bridesmaids, looking out over Seattle. 

weekend song | Blue Eyes

garage door shadows
This song sounds like summer, fading daylight at eight o'clock and ice-clinking in a mason jar. When I was walking to the bus this morning, there were the faintest strings of fog. It was only left low-down around the tree trunks and the blue sky had already burned through. The day felt on it's way to heating up ... and on it's way to June.

weekend reading | our stories, our selves. 

(listen) Middle Brother - Blue Eyes (photo) on film with Leica CL | garage door shadows, Summer 2012

weekend song | One Fine Day

This song sounds like a cold day in a big city, curled up by the window with a cup of coffee. A day for putting on an old romantic comedy. Or maybe, that old romantic comedy's soundtrack. I'm not usually one for covers - especially if I love the original - but Natalie Merchant just nails this one. One fine day you'll look at me, and then you know our love was meant to be ... I'm singing to you, George Clooney. 

winter blues ... 
(listen) One Fine Day - Natalie Merchant (photo) on film | snowy abstractions

weekend song | Higher and Higher

It gets harder to fall in love as you get older. It's taken me more time and more intention to open my heart. This song is one of the absolute happiest, most joyful songs ever written. Maybe it's the horns, but it makes me remember that even though being in love isn't simple, the choice to try is. Choose yes. 

(listen) Jackie Wilson - Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher and Higher  (photo) morning light and more snow

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