Monday, September 05, 2005

it's bigger than you and you are not me

i kind of can't make sense of things now, so i alternate between deep troughs of numbness and depression, and unreasonable bursts of anger, one of which precipitated the last entry. just when i think i can't hate the President any more, he gives me yet another reason to burn down the entire administration (i hope you Patriot Act people are taking note of this, and putting another black mark next to my name in your Big Book of Terrorists).

so Houston has grown by a quarter million nearly overnight. everyone i know seems to have already gone to the Astrodome or the Convention Center and helped out. i would have already but for a sprained ankle that's been a continuing annoyance since Friday. i am planning to help out in the form of art projects and possibly knitting with the kids and their parents within the next few weeks. materials are being donated and gathered. Lion Yarn has already promised more yarn than we can ever use. knitting seems to be a task uniquely suited to something like this: keeping the hands and mind busy, making something that will warm and protect and cover. protection. god. this makes me just so, so sad.

been listening to a lot of good music lately, some new, some old. i thought i'd list it here, because really, i can't stand to read the New York Times or Slate for the fifth time today.

The Kings of Convenience, Riot on an Empty Street
kind of a sad album with a sad sound, despite the frequently upbeat songs and subject matter. the first song, "Homesick". gets me every time. this album, along with Howie Day's Australia, makes me think of taking the train to New York, for some reason. i listen to the first track and suddenly we're pulling into the New Brunswick station.

Cibo Matto, Viva! La Woman
i love that this album is entirely about food. you got to know your chicken.

The Cure, Staring at the Sea
so, i knew that The Cure was amazing. but hearing the progression of the band on this greatest hits comp absolutely floored me. they went from this great, reductive New Wave sound to this gorgeous, lush, atmospheric, dramatic sound. Robert Smith's voice changes pace along with the music, from a distant, distached vocal to something quite heartbreaking. man. fucking awesome.

Joanna Newsom, various from Walnut Whales and The Milk-Eyed Mender
this girl's a bit of an acquired taste. for those unused to the Bjork school of vocal emoting, her voice is sometimes hard to take. but it wasn't until i was halfway into listening to the first song did i realize, dude. she's playing a fucking harp. who plays a harp these days? it takes quite a few listens to realize just how intricate her songs are, like delicate litle sugar sculptures threatened with destruction at the slightest breath. oh, and she rips through the harpsichord, too. take that, Tori Amos.

Johnny Cash, Live at Folsom Prison
it always happens that i discover a musician's brilliance after they pass. my friend Jury said something to me right after Johnny Cash died - that there aren't men, people, like him anymore. people who were true originals, blazing their own trails, social propriety be damned. i am obssesed with the man in black. to me, he's really part of the American fabric.

2 Comments:

alexis said...

there are lots of people coming to harrisburg and some army depots here... lots to the harrisburg hospital. i'm going to try to find some way to help out as well. hope you're well, i think of you alot. take care!
~a

7:19 PM  
alexis said...

This post has been removed by a blog administrator.

7:20 PM  

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