hang with me

LAST NIGHT my roommates and I had over several fantastic acquaintances we met last weekend while out at a local bar. They showed up to our place with instruments in tow — guitars, ukeleles, tambourines, harmonicas, shakers, sticks, even a cowbell — for a full-on jam session. We ordered pizza and cracked beers, played board games and shared company as though longtime companions.

What I haven’t felt, or realized, in some time is how good music feels. The kind of bandage and bond it harbors, the freedom and honesty it beholds. I believe we all felt it, and I am so happy we all can call each other friends.

A small, raw recording of us performing a cover of Robyn’s “Hang with Me” —

For a few more jams, check this out.

Some Lucky Night

This is one of my favorite songs by M. Ward. I can’t resist listening to it when I walk through the city at night — it’s great for unwinding. 
I believe the reason why I’ve found great significance in this song is that at times I simply feel lost. And that’s okay! There’s nothing wrong with feeling lost, it usually leads to discovery and growth. I often feel lost when I think of the past, and what life used to be like; the things I could never appreciate when I was surrounded by them. Simple things like space, comfort, familiarity — even in moments of sadness or anxiety, there was always something recognizable to cling to. Leafing through pages of my journal, a year ago I wrote, “I have no idea where I’ll be a year from now…I want to be thrown into uncertainty.” Now I know, and now I have all the unanswered questions I could ever ask for, and now I can’t believe I wished for this. But I can. 
I wrote those words from my bedroom in Moorhead, MN. One-thousand four-hundred thirty-three miles away. I miss the grocery store I shopped at because I knew where everything was. I miss the Starbucks I went to, because everyone knew my name and always got my drink right. I miss cheap drinks. I miss the people I don’t miss. I miss the abundance. I miss the instant gratification. I miss putting my foot on a gas pedal.

Put a dollar into the machine and you’ll remember when

When I listen to this song, I think of someone walking all day and night in search of something. Dripping down an avenue in Manhattan, looking for something that explains it all, and wondering where they’re headed. That same feeling I felt one-thousand four-hundred thirty-three miles down the road followed me here.

I’ll know when everything feels right  

Some lucky night

Timshel

I’ve been on a Mumford & Sons frenzy lately, and they’ve got me feeling pretty calm. I’m especially enjoying this song, “Timshel.”


And you have your choices
And these are what make man great
His ladder to the stars

two songs (that got me through the past three days)

Adele | Make You Feel My Love
This song makes me feel like hugging everybody, probably crying a little bit (happy tears), putting my arms around several friends and swaying side to side, then falling onto my goosedown comforter and sleeping the rest of the day. Oh, and eating chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

Okkervil River | Okkervil River Song
I feel like I should be in a forest when I listen to this, or down by a river, or swinging from a tire swing into a lake, or sitting around a campfire with a banjo. That’s the beauty of this song. It takes me to a place that’s entirely uncivilized.

• • •

Going to push through this paper (it’s been connnnnnnsummmmming my life for three days), hand it in today (after I crank out an annotated bib) then:

01. GALLERY OPENING RECEPTION!
      4 o’clock, Center for the Arts
      5:30, Awards ceremony
    
&   6 o’clock, sleep.