"My mom taught me one thing:
You don’t always have to tell people you love them. You just have to give them no reason to doubt it."
"Food doesn’t taste better or worse when documented by Instagram. Laughter is as genuine over Skype as it would be sharing a sofa. Pay attention. Take in nature, hold someone’s hand, read a book. But don’t ever apologize for snapping a photo of a sunrise after a hike, or blogging about the excitement of having a crush, or updating your goodreads account. All of these things are good and should be celebrated. Smile at strangers on the sidewalk and like your friends’ selfies. It’s all good for the human spirit."
— a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life.
#just talking about music
#shine a light
I love that my “Why I love Constantines” story starts out with how I didn’t really like them at the start. Or, rather, I liked them, but didn’t understand how. Friends would send me mp3s and links and whatnot over MSN Messenger (as one did back in the day) and, while I enjoyed what I heard, something didn’t line up.
See, they sounded like something I’d heard before, but I couldn’t quite place what, exactly. They sounded familiar. Comforting. Like home. All those usual things you can easily say about things that you love, whether you realize that you love them or not. The truth is that I loved the Constantines right from the start, even if I couldn’t make sense of that love. It took a winter evening many years ago in a friend’s parents’ garage for me to finally find the spot where the sprockets and gears aligned properly and I realized that, yes, this band was about to become one of my favourite bands of all time.
Hearing my friends cover “Soon Enough” in the garage that one night brought things around for me. Not sure why it was that instance, exactly, but something worked. The song lodged itself deep in my mind and I found it looping for days to follow. That’s how it started.
Over the years, I’ve been lucky to have seen them live as a band and separately as parts of of other projects, etc. several times, and even when the show wasn’t “perfect”, it was still damn good. These guys are the real deal. I was deeply affected when they let things fade away, only to eventually file themselves into the “amazing Canadian bands that are now defunct” (one other “breakup” that was as equally sad was when the Deadly Snakes called ‘er. Ugh. Wish they’d fix that mistake. Just fix it for me, guys. C’mon, now. Please?)
Now that the Cons will be doing the Shine a Light (hi, album in my “top 20 favourite albums of all time” list) anniversary tour/shows, I’m completely nuts about making it to one of the shows. I’ve heard rumblings of the tour beginning in the fall, and I don’t flinch when I say that I’m willing to travel great distances to see them play again. Stockpiling those WestJet points like it’s going out of style. It’s what you do when one of your favourite bands gets the fire going again. It’s what you do. (But just come to Saskatoon, guys. It’ll be fun.)
"People empty me. I have to get away to refill."
"The best thing that can happen to a human being is to find a problem, to fall in love with that problem, and to live trying to solve that problem, unless another problem even more lovable appears."
Thank you, Portland.
Things that were so good:
- Every single server and shop employee we encountered was above-and-beyond incredible. Ultra-friendly, perfectly attentive, and so passionate about Portland and all the great things the city has to offer. We were well taken care of and felt truly welcome.
- You have trees that have leaves, and you have yards that have flowers. You have moss and sunshine and rainshowers. You don’t even have to think about dealing with any kind of major winter crap. Do you even know how awesome that is?! (It is awesome.)
- Everywhere we went, the music was badass. This city gets me. In every way.
- You have toilet seat covers in 99.9% of your public washrooms. And almost all of the washrooms we visited were super clean. A++!
- Dogs can go anywhere! We saw dogs on the metro, in shops, and in restaurants. Awesome. Poodles abound.
- Your public transit options are fantastic. Or at least they seemed pretty damn impressive to me, a girl who can hardly make sense of the bus system in her own city because it’s so janked up. Portland has their metro/streetcar/bus business sorted out. Big time.
- Powell’s. Heaven is this bookstore. Seriously, people. File alongside all the record shops and other little local businesses that were so charming and enjoyable.
Our trip was a hit parade from start to finish. I am thoroughly in love with Portland and can’t wait to go back. Thanks, you beautiful city! See you again soon.
Are you from Portland?
Do you love going to Portland?
If yes, what would you tell a group of four Canadians who’ve never been, and are heading there on Saturday?
What’s the best stuff for us to do and see? We love booze and coffee and books and music and art and shopping and exploring and eating and walking. Tell me your things!
What are the best things for first-timers to experience in #pdx?
I Don’t Miss It | Tracy K. Smith
#national poetry month
But sometimes I forget where I am,
Imagine myself inside that life again.
Recalcitrant mornings. Sun perhaps,
Or more likely colorless light
Filtering its way through shapeless cloud.
And when I begin to believe I haven’t left,
The rest comes back. Our couch. My smoke
Climbing the walls while the hours fall.
Straining against the noise of traffic, music,
Anything alive, to catch your key in the door.
And that scamper of feeling in my chest,
As if the day, the night, wherever it is
I am by then, has been only a whir
Of something other than waiting.
We hear so much about what love feels like.
Right now, today, with the rain outside,
And leaves that want as much as I do to believe
In May, in seasons that come when called,
It’s impossible not to want
To walk into the next room and let you
Run your hands down the sides of my legs,
Knowing perfectly well what they know.
Oh, my gosh. (via april-is)
April 8, 2014: Snow, Aldo, Kate DiCamillo →
#national poetry month
#simple and beautiful
Once, I was in New York,
in Central Park, and I saw
an old man in a black overcoat walking
a black dog. This was springtime
and the trees were still
bare and the sky was
gray and low and it began, suddenly,
big fat flakes
that twirled and landed on the
black of the man’s overcoat and
the black dog’s fur. The dog
lifted his face and stared
up at the sky. The man looked
up, too. “Snow, Aldo,” he said to the dog,
“snow.” And he laughed.
The dog looked
at him and wagged his tail.
If I was in charge of making
snow globes, this is what I would put inside:
the old man in the black overcoat,
the black dog,
two friends with their faces turned up to the sky
as if they were receiving a blessing,
as if they were being blessed together
as simple as snow
"Out beyond ideas
of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field.
I’ll meet you there."
Jelaluddin Rumi, 13th century
#I'll meet you there