The Eke: Day 5

If you don’t do the things you say you’re going to do, there is no reasonable, logical, feasible way for you to end up the places you say you’re going to be.

I need to get a new mattress, because sleeping as I do, laying here as I do causes such a violent and terrible response, one that I am surely experiencing in my teeth as well, that I really lose functionality.  This is my day to get stuff done and I can’t fathom doing anything but laying there just on the softer edge of agony, waiting for something to physically kick me out of bed.  Reading about the state of the world is no great help, you just want to pull up more and more covers to quash all the noise of that.

So somehow, we’ve peeled ourselves out of bed, the bed/iron maiden, long after we ought to have emerged.  We’ve logged the mini-breakfast, but need to pour some water. A small thing, but I can feel myself shying away from it today.  I just want to be still and think my way around the headache rather than taking some aspirin, drinking a cup of the clear stuff and moving.

The haircut will help.  Force me to get up and put something of a face on and be in public.

Shortly, we will need to investigate lunch.  A house lunch, not a wandering out and spending too much on things we don’t know we are eating.  See, the magical mental shifts sometimes happen deep underground.

….

My hair smells like the oil from the pizza.  I ate it, but I ate it ensuring it was allotted and measured and I hardly ate anything else to let me eat it.  And I enjoyed it, so I suppose that’s how this is meant to work.  Still need to get some nutrients in with this method and damn if it wasn’t chock full of the sodium.  Things I would likely never choose to be aware of it was I wasn’t tracking. It should have told me I needed to bring some water with me to the show, but no, I didn’t realize until I got there, and it was BYOB how shitty an idea that was.

The concert was nice – a Sofar show where people are expected to, and largely do, be quiet while the performers are singing.  Got a couple new artists, one in particular who I enjoyed, and I know I enjoyed it because I started crying within ten seconds of her beginning her first song.   Totally like being beaten emotionally raw while I sat under a metal stool surrounded by man-bun sporting hipsters.

I antagonized my sister with my Leftist propaganda.  We took a picture I should hate but I’m too tired to care about it being shared online.  We discussed things and vented about the respective stalled out relationships in our lives.  We didn’t decide anything.  We didn’t do anything but be and for a while that felt pretty okay.

 

Home Is Wherever I’m With You

Well.

The rusty wheel begins to turn.

I don’t know how to begin, except to begin.  There’s so much to say, so many little tendrils to follow, facets to the diamond.   I could tell you about the heat.   The unforsaking, devastating, potentially weekend-ruining heat that made it impossible for us to maintain our spot waiting out in the 100 degree weather on blankets with no shade to speak of.   Made it hard to breathe and made my heart shiver.  I could tell you about Guthrie, the little town that did good to accommodate all these people, the red Oklahoma dirt in the field that got on everything, the small coffee shop with this lovely window recreation of the Sigh No More album cover.  The string of lights hung under the overpass.  I could tell you about my little sister who was actually a lot calmer than I thought she’d be about most things…who got her brain boiled trying to keep a spot for me so that I could stare intently at Winston Marshall’s banjyrations…and who was way more freaked out than necessary about a couple dead bugs in our less than savory motel on the outskirts of town and didn’t sleep or shower because she couldn’t bear the thought of using anything in the place.

But I suppose the best thing to do is to tell you about the music:

Willy Mason – Lovely voice, loved the violist, will be checking him out.  Reminded me a bit of Nathaniel Rateliff.

Justin Townes Earle – Well, I loved him at Bristol, and I loved him here.  Love his attitude.  He doesn’t seem to really involve himself in things,  Just as the day was starting to cool down, his set was good…wish people had been a bit more attentive.

Phosphorescent – Lots of beautiful moments, though it didn’t quite gel for me.  Maybe it was the crowd anticipation for ESMZ.  Interesting frontman, too.

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros – Loved them, though their camera filter was this constantly shifting kaleidoscope effect that was a bit dizzying especially in that heat.  They definitely bring their own vibe, and Alex can sing…but Jade’s my favorite even if storytime gave voice to a crazy stalker-type who wanted to marry her.  I think her voice just leavens the whole thing.

Bear’s Den – LOVED, loved so much.  Reminded me a bit of Matthew and the Atlas. I’ll definitely be seeking out their music.   It was a nice start of the day.  That core indie/acoustic sound, but with some lovely lyrics such as I associate with Mumford.

Little Darlin’s – Middle of the day, unique, fun voice that probably would have worked better in another setting.  Sitting as far away as possible to find one single spot of shade, the singer’s raspy twang didn’t quite translate.

Half Moon Run – Fun! Bubbly! Bouncy! Fun!  I’ll be looking for their music for sure.

The Vaccines – Yeah, I still have their lyrics bubbling around around in my head.  They’re the boys’ boys, y’know.  And they put on a fun show.  I was all kinds of distracted with getting my sister some food and drink so she didn’t pass out during their set, but I danced my way there and back.

Haim – I love them! They played Let Me Go which has the drum part I think is marvelous and I really hated the heat at this moment, because I wanted to be up there and dancing to them, but it was just not happening.  But I did get to see them at the airport, walking around like real people, when no one else seemed to notice them and I’m kicking myself for not asking for their autograph, but if it weren’t for a plane delay I’d never have seen them anyway.   It was just sort of special, an odd happenstance.

Alabama Shakes – The woman can sing.  There’s just no arguing about that.  I love Hold On, don’t know any of their other music, liked what I heard, but it doesn’t grab me as the most memorable of the day.

Mumford – Well, my view of the big screen was perfect for everything up until their amazing cover of Come Together and enough of the crowd either decided to beat the rush out or was just stupid and forgot about encores and left that at my sister’s insistence, we could creep up a good ways and actually see, you know, the gentlemen we’d come to see.  And they sung Sister and the Cave and then, of course, I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends.

I’m forgetting more and I’ll backtrack tomorrow.  But yeah.  Yeah.  Home.  Feelings.  So much to say.

 

The Hunger

This is my first copy/paste entry.  I’m allowing it because I wrote it today.  Just posted it elsewhere first and I feel I would write about the concert, obviously…so here is a slapdash sense of it.

I am feeding on it as opposed to letting it feed on me.

Well, I feel rather odd doing a write-up of the concert because a) I don’t have any pictures or videos as I was sort of out of my head just focusing on remaining upright and absorbing everything and b) I don’t know…that might mean processing it and getting beyond it and I just want it floating around me like some kind of Marcus Mumford-induced mnemo-audio halo and c) what I essentially have to say was I came, I saw/heard, I was MUMSONED.  Perhaps not in just that order.

So instead, I offer you small things. (re-written, unfortunately, as Tumblr ate my brilliance) *…tumblr.   YOU SUCK. * Okay.  I’m going to try and see if I can find what I wrote!  AGAIN.

Winston was less talkative, I think, than the night before based on the clips but he killed it.  Just played the hell out of everything with such a…to use a rather Mumford and Sons-y type of word, grace.  He is my begrudging favorite simply because I think all of them are extraordinary, but he is gorgeous. And I have survived the live banjo roll.  Just barely.  It’s kind of like he’s banjo fucking the whole room, all those thousands of people, and you banjo fucking love it.

Timshel: Disappointed it didn’t work acoustically on Night 2 like Sister worked.  I think the day was so hot and people had waited a while so they were extra drunk and extra dumb down in the pit, and Winston didn’t incite violence this time, so sorry Ted!  You can’t trust us.  Luckily, I heard the Dapper Ninja took out all those fools before they left for Telluride.

Waiting: I wish I could have stuck around to see about meeting the band, but the timing was such that we had to go home and I was pretty tired/out of it/with a headache that rivaled Athena breaking out of Zeus’ skull so we opted to go home.

Broken Crown: is one of my favorites and I was so happy to see them play it.  Seemed some of the lyrics were changed, leaving that awesome line “And in this twilight, how dare you speak of grace?”

Nathaniel Rateliff / Matthew and the Atlas: great.  I’m sure they’d be better for me in a setting where I could hear their lyrics.

My little sister said it was “one of the best live bands she’d ever seen”

Energy and joy!

Marcus effusing about the beauty of Denver.  Also, he said he went in the morning to the Foothills.  I live in the Foothills.  MARCUS WHERE DID YOU GO?!  WHAT HAPPENED! DETAILS! I NEED DETAILS.  Also, Winnie said Ted had a long story about why he loved Denver, but they never got to tell it.

The way they leave the stage with their arms around one another

Red Rocks.  Whenever they come, I’ll be there.

Alright.  I think that’s everything critical I can remember.  I had a mind-blowing time. I’m trying to adjust back to reality of not having this to look forward to by knowing I have this to remember and knowing they’ll be back and playing Red Rocks soon.  Bless those boys.  They are free of gimmicks and bullshit and they know how to meet you at your level and sing you better for it.  The world is lucky as hell to have them.

Light Deer: Day 29

.2 is nothing in the great scheme of things.  It is nothing in even the small scheme of small things that I eyeball everyday in the hopes of sudden, total transformation.   But it appeared.  An offering in the face of a wavering, tired spirit.  A .2 proof Balm of Gilead.   I lost .2, and it may well be that .2 will return in the morning, a fluke, a blip, a never-was.  But for now, it is what I need to seal off that crack in my cast-iron will.

Things can change.  Things do change.  Things transform wholly and utterly without our consent.  And over time, will can mold the future, too.

I will not give up even if come June 15, I am not at my goal. I’ll just move the goal posts, start from where I am and pick a new goal.

But I will think positively and I will get done the things I need to get done upon which I will elaborate below.

Before the concert, I’d like to get my hair dyed/cut and I think I can get that done tomorrow.   We’ll see what I end up wearing, but I’ll have happy hair.  Happy hair can resolve a multitude of sins and potential emo weepiness which I will do my damndest to circumvent, but we’re right in the ring of fire (oh, god, that’s the most apt and terrible analogy ever for pre-menstrual behavior) and I may be horrible to be around.  Let’s just say right here and now and before all the ever-present spirits and forces of the universe that I am not going to be a snot or an asshole or a bitch despite what the hormones within may demand of me and despite some pretty-rage inducing logistics.

The lesson I never learn but seems most necessary for me to learn is that I don’t always have control.  Sometimes I have great intentions, but the results don’t turn out.  I just want to release the clamp on what this experience will be like.  I just always want to not be left behind, in awkward positions, in weird places that I’m not familiar with how to navigate and so new situations don’t come at me as much as they should so that I get comfortable with the great maybeness of life.

What I’m saying in this vague way is that I want to get to the concert at the right time to be in front and I want to have enough to eat and drink that day so that I can enjoy the show without panicking about passing out and what not and I want my sister to be calm and relaxed and enjoy it as much as I do so that we can hang about and get autographs and I can then go home and back to my regularly scheduled programming with the glories rattling round in my head and the fear conquered.

That’s the plan.  There is no control, but this:  your life is yours.  Unhappiness and happiness.  Turn your head, gulp, and turn back.

Today: 157.2
Yesterday: 157.4 oh ho ho
Goal: 155 by June 15