I am so listening. I am. I'm memorizing every word you speak and at the same time, I'm noticing that your socks are different colors and there is egg yolk on your chin. And this whole conversation you don't think I'm listening to will appear in my next blog. So you might as well forgive me now.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
All that you have
This is what I'm listening to tonight. And specially for Sister Teri of the beautiful voice.
Teri - I hope this comment doesn't hope up twice. Blogger is glitching. I couldn't help but imagine you singing this when I heard it. And I cried too - good tears, those kind. Thank you - about the picture. No makeup but lipstick. My old near worn out black pants and top, but the series turned out pretty well.
Herhimnbryn - Goosebumps and tears for me. I'd never heard this song before I bought the collection. Chapman chose her favorites - and there isn't a dud on the whole CD.
Teri - Hair is a powerful symbol for me, personally. I had mine buzzed almost to the scalp for 10 years - and looking back, it was a time when I was in heavy emotional & sexual denial. That's me - and I don't mean it to apply to anyone else. And yeah, men like my hair, but then I get asked if I'm a witch, too. A lot.
Phlegmy, honey - Me too x 4 plus love you too. The CD is "Tracy Chapman: Collection" and I cannot stop listening to it.
Wow, Tracey Chapman takes me back to lying on my couch in the attic flat in Barcelona. On the rare occasions my roomie was out in the evening, I'd play the cd, lie back and daydream. Nothing but me, low lights, and French doors opened onto a roof terrace that overlooked the whole city and out to sea. Some of my fondest memories. If I won millions on the lottery, I'd go back and offer to buy that place - no penthouses, no mansions. Just that tiny 2 bedroomed flat. It's my happy place - the first place to really feel like home.
And I like hair too. The bigger the better. I don't get this 'hair straightening' phase that's sweeping the nation.
I'm holding that - a woman in a tiny Paris apartment, a woman in a barracks in San Antonio - and me - listening to the same utterly moving, haunting voice. Thank you.
11 comments:
Yeah. I'll get back to you when I'm not sobbing.
She is SO fabulous. I hadn't heard that song before. ::sigh::
Thank you!
xoxo
P.S. That's my favorite picture of you ever.
Goosebumps.
Thankyou lj.
Teri - I hope this comment doesn't hope up twice. Blogger is glitching.
I couldn't help but imagine you singing this when I heard it. And I cried too - good tears, those kind.
Thank you - about the picture. No makeup but lipstick. My old near worn out black pants and top, but the series turned out pretty well.
Herhimnbryn - Goosebumps and tears for me. I'd never heard this song before I bought the collection. Chapman chose her favorites - and there isn't a dud on the whole CD.
That would be "pop" up twice. Sheesh.
I love a good cry...which works because it happens often. :)
Your hair...it's a force. I look at it and think - cutting my hair: what kind of fool notion is that??
xo
Yeah, I mean force. Like a storm center or a giant magnet. Has it ever caused a man to speak in tongues?
Love her music.
Love her hair.
Love her voice.
Love her.
Love you too.
Teri - Hair is a powerful symbol for me, personally. I had mine buzzed almost to the scalp for 10 years - and looking back, it was a time when I was in heavy emotional & sexual denial. That's me - and I don't mean it to apply to anyone else. And yeah, men like my hair, but then I get asked if I'm a witch, too. A lot.
Phlegmy, honey - Me too x 4 plus love you too. The CD is "Tracy Chapman: Collection" and I cannot stop listening to it.
Wow, Tracey Chapman takes me back to lying on my couch in the attic flat in Barcelona. On the rare occasions my roomie was out in the evening, I'd play the cd, lie back and daydream. Nothing but me, low lights, and French doors opened onto a roof terrace that overlooked the whole city and out to sea. Some of my fondest memories. If I won millions on the lottery, I'd go back and offer to buy that place - no penthouses, no mansions. Just that tiny 2 bedroomed flat. It's my happy place - the first place to really feel like home.
And I like hair too. The bigger the better. I don't get this 'hair straightening' phase that's sweeping the nation.
The title of the post has put the Pink Floyd song in my head.
Tracy puts me back in the barracks in San Antonio, about to be broken, about to break my life, surrounded by women on the same shattering path.
I'm holding that - a woman in a tiny Paris apartment, a woman in a barracks in San Antonio - and me -
listening to the same utterly moving,
haunting voice.
Thank you.
Post a Comment