Friday, July 29, 2005
sweeping wings/mood shifts
Crows in the field out back of work swoop to get food from the road, dodging a motorcycle. Silver rain falls in my heart on this perfectly blue-skyed morning as memories surface because of the time of year. Back in '01 this time my father lay dying and although good things surround me my heart feels heavy and pained- there's that dark ICU room that doesn't ever seem less cruel. Everyone gets dealt a hand like this at one time or another. Big handfuls of prizes, sand, or sorrows. Tides go in and then recede.
It's difficult to put down bittersweet sentiments. Been listening to Sufjan Stevens lately- his words adeptly describe little sorrows and pleasures so well- and I wonder if this young man has really been through some of these things he writes about, or is he simply a fascile writer? My mind cannot process words for how I feel. Images seem more expressive, and I wish I could share colors and textures on this blog, and transcend the banality of it all. "Girl posts photos of empty beaches on grey days on her LiveJournal"- it's all been done before. Trapped in the tedium of emotions that seem unique, knowing they are simply common.
Carry on.
It's difficult to put down bittersweet sentiments. Been listening to Sufjan Stevens lately- his words adeptly describe little sorrows and pleasures so well- and I wonder if this young man has really been through some of these things he writes about, or is he simply a fascile writer? My mind cannot process words for how I feel. Images seem more expressive, and I wish I could share colors and textures on this blog, and transcend the banality of it all. "Girl posts photos of empty beaches on grey days on her LiveJournal"- it's all been done before. Trapped in the tedium of emotions that seem unique, knowing they are simply common.
Carry on.
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