Music

Imabitch….

I hate the world today
You’re so good to me
I know but I can’t change
Tried to tell you
But you look at me like maybe
I’m an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet
Yesterday I cried
Must have been relieved to see
The softer side
I can understand how you’d be so confused
I don’t envy you
I’m a little bit of everything
All rolled into one

[Chorus:]
I’m a bitch, I’m a lover
I’m a child, I’m a mother
I’m a sinner, I’m a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I’m your hell, I’m your dream
I’m nothing in between
You know you wouldn’t want it any other way

So take me as I am
This may mean
You’ll have to be a stronger man
Rest assured that
When I start to make you nervous
And I’m going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won’t mean a thing

[Chorus]

Just when you think, you got me figured out
The season’s already changing
I think it’s cool, you do what you do
And don’t try to save me

[Chorus]

I’m a bitch, I’m a tease
I’m a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer
I’m your angel undercover
I’ve been numb, I’m revived
Can’t say I’m not alive
You know I wouldn’t want it any other way

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Books, Music, Quotes

books n’ music music n’ books

“I am reading six books at once, the only way of reading; since, as you will agree, one book is only a single unaccompanied note, and to get the full sound, one needs ten others at the same time.” ~ Virginia Woolf (The Letters of Virginia Woolf, Volume 3, 1923-1928)

“If I were not a physicist, I would probably be a musician. I often think in music. I live my daydreams in music. I see my life in terms of music.” ~ (Albert Einstein, an interview in 1929)

Currently reading:

The Maverick (Garrett Flagg) Urban poetry
The Second Sex (Simone de Beauvoir, translation H.M. Parshley)
Number9dream (David M. Mitchell)
The Divided Self – An Existential Study in Sanity & Madness (R.D. Laing)
Blues People (LeRoi Jones – aka Amiri Baraka)
The Rebel (Albert Camus)
The Hobbit (J.R.R. Tolkien)
The Complete Poems (Cesar Vallejo)
Embracing Ourselves (Hal Stone & Sidra Winkelman)

My Pandora and Spotify stations:

🙂 Radio (Audiomachine, string and percussion)
Albannach (angry as hell and not gonna take it anymore)
James Blunt (man angst…)
Love songs (when will I be loved like they love each other…)
Ambient
A Beautiful Storm (yes, storms can be beautiful)
Black Violin
Josh Groban (that voice, those eyes…)
Bonobo
Boyce Avenue
Celtic Spirit
Celtic Thunder (yes, there is a difference)
Danny Elfman
Earth (lotsa woodwind)
The Elegants
The Fray
Gandalf
Lord of the Rings
Gloria Gaynor
Gravity (Acoustic)
I Am Woman (all women kick ass)
I Will (kick ass I will stomp all over you)
ll Divo (all male omg! you are beautifully put together)
IZ (because everyone needs to know what’s over the rainbow)
Kenny G (because he really knows how to play that sax and that hair!)
Ludovico Einaudi (all things string, woodwind, brass, percussion)
Raffi (because grandchildren like music too)
Ray LaMontagne (bluesy, raspy Bobby Womack, Joe Cocker and such like)
Relaxation
Requiem For A Dream (aah instrumental percussion stuff)
Santana (Marley, Hendrix and so much more)
Secret Garden (I need a good cry)
Separate Ways (you fuckin idiot, you have no idea what you missed out on!)
Shhh Station (it’s alright, they didn’t really get you anyhow…)
Solo Piano
Third Day (lest I forget I’m a sinner and a saint)
Violins (because they always help me cry when I need a good cry and can’t)
Work and Study (mish mosh)
Yellow (look up the emotional meaning of this color)
Yo-Yo Ma (yes, I do cry quite a bit)

I have books and music in my living room, kitchen, bathroom and bedroom.
There are boxes of books in my back hallway, waiting to leave.
They’ve been there for at least a year.
Every once in a while I wonder if there are any I really should be keeping rather than giving away to the local retirement home.
I resist the urge to bring them all back in.
When people leave, I encourage them to use the back door and take a book, or two, or a dozen, here, let me give you a bag.
I have books and music on my i-pad.
I have Pandora on my phone. My phone charger stays with me as the battery wears down quickly because I’m always listening to music.
So you may see me sitting in public charging my phone as I know where all the free outlets are.
I have music cd’s sitting on the floor next to my computer, waiting to be downloaded.

You cannot take a single step into my flat and not know that I like music and books.

Leo Tolstoy, Virginia Woolf, Maya Angelou, Kate Chopin, Rod McKuen, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Alexander Dumas, Gabor Mate, Edgar Allan Poe, Nikolai Gogol, Louis L’Amour, Sydney Poitier, Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters…

Pandora, YouTube, Vimeo, Spotify, Amazon music…

They have taken up residence in my home, on my phone, in my backpack.

My family complains when I move because the bulk of moving is books, boxes of them.
I try not to move too often.
If I ever relocated, say to Australia, I better have a plan because my books are going with me.
I would ship my books and leave my bed behind.

I believe I can go anywhere in this world and find second hand book stores.
Or free books.
And, usually, where there is a second hand book store, there is music.
This is quite alright with me.

I have been known to pull up a seat on the floor in a bookstore and forget where I am.
If you are with me you can stay or leave me behind, I’m good either way.

I will find my way back eventually.

If someone is reading a book on the bus or in the park, my sense of etiquette flies out the window, I want to know what they’re reading.
I haven’t quite gotten up the guts to ask someone wearing headphones what they’re listening to.
This is probably because I know if my headphones are in my ears, I don’t want to know you, I want to know my music and I assume you feel the same way.

I might snarl at you.
You might snarl at me.

We might snarl at each other.

I do wear my headphones when there’s no music playing because there’s music in my head.
Always.
I have started dancing or playing the drums or humming in the oddest places so headphones travel with me everywhere.
Fingertips on a thigh or pencils with erasers make great silent drumsticks.

Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I turn on the bedside lamp and read.
Or write.
This morning I woke to a sad song in french and I was crying right along with him.

I had to get up and find something to ease the melancholy, Emilie Simon worked quite well.
I live alone.
I do not speak french.
In case you were wondering….

Sooo…

what’s on your list?

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Hozier, Music

Take Me To Church – Hozier

My lover’s got humour
She’s the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody’s disapproval
I should’ve worshipped her sooner

If the heavens ever did speak
She’s the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday’s getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week

‘We were born sick, ‘ you heard them say it

My Church offers no absolutes
She tells me, ‘Worship in the bedroom.’
The only heaven I’ll be sent to
Is when I’m alone with you—

I was born sick,
But I love it
Command me to be well
Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen.

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

If I’m a pagan of the good times
My lover’s the sunlight
To keep the Goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice

Drain the whole sea
Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That’s a fine looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We’ve a lot of starving faithful

That looks tasty
That looks plenty
This is hungry work

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Offer me my deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Offer me my deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

No Masters or Kings
When the Ritual begins
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene
Only then I am Human
Only then I am Clean
Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen.

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

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Life, Photography, Quotes

Wordless

“…I stand among you as one who offers a small message of hope, that first, there are always people who dare to seek on the margin of society, who are not dependent on social acceptance, not dependent on social routine, and prefer a kind of free-floating existence under a state of risk. And among these people, if they are faithful to their own calling, to their own vocation, and to their own message from God, communication on the deepest level is possible. And the deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech and beyond concept.” ~ The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton

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(Photo: wilowispaperio, 2015)

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