I loved what you did to your music at your concert in the colosseum theatre in Essen. You and your band took the essence of the songs, gave them enough room to unfold, then swirled and transformed them into their own reprises, occasionally letting things escalate in a multitude of layers beyond the moon and back, and at other times letting the sounds ebb and swell to Sufjan’s solitary softness of a voice.
And I loved the combination of light and video around the oddly shaped background canvas, the beautiful stills of soothing mountain sea panoramas, the childhood VHS videos, and the weirdly evolving geometric shapes.
And really, I was overwhelmed by you, Sufjan, because I never knew someone could deliver a song so meaningfully with the way they moved, sometimes little, sometimes awkwardly, sometimes with weird dance moves I am sure have some sort of tradition to them, and sometimes just moving unselfconsciously in line with the rhythm (which was kinda sexy).
And to top it all off, we could enjoy the concert sitting in comfortable theatre chairs… I wish to see a concert like this again, some day, but until then, I will try to keep this feeling alive in my heart.
What touched me – On Saturday, me and C. were checking out different videos of Porcupine Tree playing their song ‘Trains‘. (C. has quite a personal relation to the song, and I loved it before, but that makes it all the more precious to me).
Under one video, someone had posted something like
“I love his hair, his skinny body and his bare feet – but more than all, I love his brain.”
That image struck a chord with me. Could it be vulnerability?
I’ve also been working on learning how to play it on le acoustic guitar the past week or so. Turns out it’s not as hard as I thought after all (I’m in luck), though it’s quite a challenge for me to play it so it satisfies me. But playing and singing it just for myself is such a great feeling – almost ethereal (I’m dying of love – it’s okay…).
I made a huge mess fumbling out all the little passion tadpoles in there. It was way more than I thought the little maracuja shell would be able to hold. Behold!
Freeing them all of the slimy persistent flesh was QUITE some work. Ultimately, it yielded almost 90 seeds (yay so many!). I planted them into a flat saucerthing meant to catch surplus water from balcony pots, put a glass thing from the fridge over it (don’t need it in the fridge, my milk values some space when standing upright – also, I don’t want to put drink packages sideways though I might know they are sealed firmly. Weird, no?) for increased humidity aaaand granted it a special sunny place on my table.
Since then more than a month has passed, but the interwebs has told me I need to be patient with passion flower seeds. However I often don’t have much patience so I occasionally find myself screaming at the seeds to start the heck growing. Lulz just kidding.
WELL, so 2 days ago, I woke up and there was this THING to greet me – this THING! I might call it a sprout. I had almost given up hope that anything would ever start living there. I think I can hear it go “Hey there world! I’m a happy little sprout! I’m here to grow and make you happy!” =D
As is probably rather obvious by now, I do love plants. Not obsessively or anything, but seeding something like this and then see life grow out of it and evolve and lean towards the sun and yearn for water is wonderful.
And you open like a flower
And I open too
I have found that what you seek
Is the perfect flower and it is in you,
And I only wish you knew Gazpacho – Upside Down
Photos. Memories. Thoughts. Arts. Reflections and ADVENTURES!