A 10 p.m. Sunday Mind
Some quasi-descriptive imagery to instill an storyboard/comic strip like-effect in the readers mind. First, imagine girl sitting in on bed in bedroom. Room is very cluttered. Books on floor, hamper overflowing with laundry that needs tending to, a jacket stand that isn’t carrying a single jacket - but perhaps a few dozen scarves. Shelves containing even more books, journals, bottles of perfume that (no matter the expense or quality) cause irritation to Girl’s skin, and a jewelry tree tangled in necklaces - the chains and pearls separated on different branches. Girl on bed sitting on plaid sheets in (despite her disgust towards the “Guido” lifestyle) Ed Hardy underpants and a grey crop top. Hair that usually sits on top of the hips knotted up in a messy bun. Freshly washed face without a touch of make-up besides the traces of mascara that refuse to budge from the eyelashes. She smells like La Roche Posay facial moisturizer, pure shea butter, and Tom’s All Natural Honeysuckle deodorant. She wonders if honeysuckle really needed to be capitalized.
Needless to say, this girl is me. But, writing in third person is entertaining.
Sitting with Ed Hardy ass planted on plaid sheets, picking at the skin peeling from her nails, listening to Bon Iver’s Blood Bank, whose play count has reached 78 in the past two weeks. Thinking of the messages of family and love, and this never ending fascination with the metaphorical concept of blood, being more than a collection of white and red cells carrying oxygen to and from cells and providing the body against foreign substances.
Are the moments in life better appreciated when accompanied with a soundtrack or background music? Or does it take away from the world’s natural beauty? When one is riding up the Valley of 1000 Hills near Ichanga, South Africa; is it appropriate to have your ears tuned into and plugged into a machine? Using noise-canceling earphones? Or does the steady vibrations of the old van deserve to be ignored? Are the level breaths of the man with his head propped uncomfortably on your skull that annoying? Or is it actually comforting to have a platonic bond of closeness miles away from those you love? Sometimes it is best to let our ear drums feel the natural beat of everything surrounding us. The slow, steady breaths in our ears; the shaking window panes of an old vehicle; the car driver’s terrible taste in music.
As beautiful and soothing as music can be, sometimes the rhythms block out what is truly beautiful. I’d rather hear the wind causing knots and tangles in my hair, than have the wires of my earphones be included in the mess. Putting a pause on the endless iTunes playlist, through an open window I can hear the gentle bustle of the night in a small suburb. The wind moving with the few cars out on a Sunday night, even the gradual slowing and speeding of the cars. Accompanied with the occasional beep of an incoming text message from a loved one far away, and the tapping of keys as these words are logged.
The world has evolved in a way that it is nearly impossible to appreciate the true beauty of what is around us.
“On ne voit bien qu’avec le coeur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux” - Antoine de Saint Exupéry
