Sep 28, 2012

FOREIGN


A foreigner in a foreign land. It's not always easy to live in another country. Even if it seems like the culture is in parallel to your own. It isn't the same and I think that it's bound to have an effect. There are days where you can operate as normal and it's barely noticeable, and then there are those where you feel barricaded. Maybe this barrier exists only in theory but it's real enough. Adapt or die, and you adapt. Over time the city, it's people and their culture evolve you. The exposure to the realities of another world, a different reality is humbling. And you remain changed.

It's not always apparent as it's not always present- sometimes being from somewhere else can be an advantage, making life that much more interesting. Though more often than not it complicates things. If you live with it for a while, if you sit with it and if you're open to it, the subtly of the situation is noticeable. Simple interactions become complicated and simple errands, a mission. There is a fear it creates. It puts you in a place that exasperates the human condition. It cages you, stripping you of your independent state of mind. And you realise, this is not your home. Most of your memories are elsewhere. Maybe new ones can be made here, maybe they already have been. It is not altogether familiar to you. You are not the salt of this earth. And you do your best.





Sep 23, 2012

IN HOPE



Seasons are a changin'. The chill of autumn has set in. With rainy days and a weakened sun. I don't mind it so much, the change. The slow turn. It registers and you observe it quietly, unable to alter it. It feels as though there is a lot of change going on. Everything is in transition as one part of life merges into next. A blur of transition. Autumn is especially melancholic. Lovely melancholy nothing. That nothing seems like a good time to review what's happened and to see what is happening. Summer used to be the only season I could appreciate but I'm starting to like the clothing autumn and spring offer. I'm coming round to the concept of four distinct seasons. Rugging up in soft knits and scarves, leather bags, gloves and boots feels like a new kind of indulgence. The ultimate indulgence as a sort of compensation. It's the darkness of winter that I'm dreading. Just about the only way I can cope is to distract myself. Fashion works well. Making lists works too. Better yet, making lists of coveted pieces and reading material to keep the spirits up. The Gentlewoman and issue one of CR are out next week. Tick, and tick. Not a bad start, not bad at all.





Sep 22, 2012

THEY WROTE IT



And now I read it. I say it, I try and I sing it. So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine. And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder. But I'm not asking for a storm. I ain't done nothin' since I woke up today. Every morning keeps returning to my window. I'm very good with plants but that was a long time ago. To believe in this living is a hard way to go. How can you have nothing to say. I'm a god damn coward but then so are you. The lions roar. And when it gets cold outside, we watch it all go down. I can only guess what's coming next by examining your timid smile. Everything will turn out right. Freedom run away with me. In the arms of mothers, another child that's grown old. Tell me something real. We smoked the last one an hour ago and it took me four hours to hitch hike from Saginaw. We slept like dogs and it rang true inside these bones. I think there's one in my raincoat. And it brings me to you. All gone to look for America.

I know places we can go. I never liked a sad look from someone who wants to be loved by you. Too proud, you're a drifter. The face in the ceiling, with arms too long. Be the ocean, where I unravel. Dark room honey. I follow you. I knew I was out of luck the day the music died. All you sitting in high places, I don't need no money. I smell sex and candy. Words like violence come crashing into my little world. Come on get down, make a mess. So far from home. Take a bow. Can't you hear me 'cause I'm screamin'. And a voice that came from you and me. The church bells all were broken. It could only be seen in the eyes of the blind. In the middle of the night. I knew I was searching for something. When I grow up I want to live by the sea. Train roll on. Please take me far, far away. Tuesday's gone with the wind. I wrote you a song. Here I am, tell me I'm your national anthem. And I saw, and behold a white horse. Listen to the words long written down. Listen to the wind blow. I can still hear you saying, you would never break the chain. Now time will come and claim you. You made me move. Now I'm the runner.


First Aid Kit, Old Crow Medicine Show, Simon & Garfunkel, The Rembrandts, The Hooters, Don McClean, Billy Joel, Depeche Mode, Ben Howard, Counting Crows, The Lumineers, Stealers Wheel, Lana Del Ray, Johnny Cash, Fleetwood Mac, Lykke Li, Marcy Playground, Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Pierre Toussaint