...not bad for a handheld, 15 rows back.
they were brilliant, of course. the guy next to me was alone also. i politely asked him if he'd seen them before. he said no. at intermission he asked "are they always this... mellow?"
j turned me on to the magnetic fields. i have many, many memories attached to them. s dancing along to "totally meaningless." t buying me '69 love songs' because i wanted it, not because it was anything he'd ever heard of or would ever listen to (and he didn't). blaring the 'holiday' album on grey fall days. the crowd was thirties, dark frames and facial hair and quiet appreciation. they played at a venue directly across the street from my former apartment on first hill- i remember blaring them from the 9th floor, possibly singing along. i walked into the misty night smiling.
*
music affirms. it provides a sharp mark on the timeline.
*
the sky was mecurial today. the hiss of rain would give way to brilliant sunshine. even the downpours were somehow glowing. i sprawled on the trampoline and read an entire bukowski novel (another one- i have to pace myself because i can only obtain them new. the libraries and used stores are hopeless- too many pervs in this berg, i suspect).
today, at the lair. soundtrack: "primitive" by the groupies.
this is hideously cliche and i am reminded of that line from 'lost in translation'... you know the one. i have been experimenting with self-portraits. the others are not appropriate for a family medium.
a lyric from last night's opener (whose name i never heard): "the proud crowd all looks away as though they've never been lost or lonely/and no one's gonna save you."
*
pedestrians outside the window of the cafe i'm at walk west, pupils constricted against the setting sun.
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