Getting to know Feist's new album 'Metals' while pondering the mountains ahead and, surprisingly, taking my own advice about not getting stressed. There's a simple fact I'm quick to forget so often, but it would save me a whole lot of nail-biting - things always end. No matter how far away it feels or how impossible that goal seems from where you're sitting, if you're like me, it'll get done, and everything really will be ok.
Oh my word. She's beautiful. Every time.
So, interesting case study. I heard Feist (Leslie Feist, in the real world) talking away on the radio on my drive home from work tonight and for a woman whose songs lilt and float the way they do, she's got this incredible strength. She doesn't sound like she's made out of china, even though you almost get that impression through her music. (Tough china, mind you, but china nonetheless.) But no. She's funny, and raw, and can talk about mating sheep just like the best of them. She's not isolated in the worlds she creates. For some reason, it was so refreshing to hear her talk and chat just like any one of us. People who create & define our perception of what's beautiful can seem untouchable. Otherworldly. Hearing them just as present in the same universe as myself - it gives me hope for reaching similar levels of creation. Feet firmly on the ground and head off in the clouds.
Oh, what a find! The perfect illustration. I downloaded the album yesterday and chose the (slightly more expensive) iTunes LP version, and I've never seen how one of those works before now. Once you open it, there's all kinds of goodies... like this behind the scenes Metals Microfilm... there's a moment in this that feels like you're watching dancing lomography in film form. It's stunning.
Later.
'Of the light, you were the strongest follower.'
Oh, how envious I get of these musicians. The power they have in these lines. To take a whirlwind of thought and moment and sum it up in minimal syllables is a talent I'll never stop letting myself be in awe of. And I think, actually, that it's more intrinsically linked to all of the rest than most people stop to continue. Story is story, no matter the form, and if you can write with such force and eloquence in so little words, you shouldn't have any problems when you've got mountainous paragraphs at your disposal. It's something I constantly use to challenge myself with - how would I have said this if it were in lyrical form? Considering I want to write stories that soar and plummet and ebb and pull and roar and lull, with all of the beauty & mire & profound & simplistic attached to that, what better way to learn just how that looks than to sit yourself down for 3 minutes, 30 seconds and experience the same rushes other people take ninety minutes to build up to?
Ugh. Time for bed, not for expansion, unfortunately.
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