is salt water – sweat, tears, or the sea
And I rise. Again and again. Like a phoenix.
Well we all shine on
Like the moon and the stars and the sun
Well we alll shine on
Ev’ryone come on
Instant Karma’s gonna get you
Gonna knock you off your feet
Better recognize your brothers
Ev’ryone you meet
Why in the world are we here
Surely not to live in pain and fear
There is a primal reassurance in being touched, in knowing that someone else, someone close to you, wants to be touching you. The is a bone-deep security that goes with the touch of a human hand, a silent, reflex-level affirmation that someone is near, that someone cares.
“I want a love like Johnny and June
Rings of fire burning with you
I wanna walk the line, walk the line, ‘til the end of time”
I grew up listening to Johnny Cash. Let me rephrase that: I grew up hanging around my dad all the time, and my dad listens to Johnny Cash. Johnny’s version of Nine Inch Nails “Hurt” was on the radio this morning and I started thinking about his older music.
In a 1981 Mike Douglas interview, June Carter Cash explained, “He asked me to marry him in front of 7,000 people, but I would have liked it if he had gotten down on his knees and proposed to me, you know, but that wasn’t the way it was. It was a great big production…” Johnny continued the story, “We had just sung a song called ‘Jackson’, and I stopped the show and said, ‘Will you marry me?’ on the microphone. She said, ‘Go, sing another, sing another, sing another!’ I said, ‘I’m not gonna sing until you answer me. Will you marry me?’ And she says, ‘Sing a song. Sing a song.’ She turned her back, you know, trying to get somebody in the band to play some music or something. [It] kept going until she finally said, ‘Yes.’ And I said, ‘Okay, next song.’ So, we set it up. We got married March 1, 1968.”
“There’s unconditional love there. You hear that phrase a lor but it’s real with me and her. She loves me in spite of everything, in spite of myself. She has saved my life more than once. She’s always been there with her love, and it has certainly made me forget the pain for a long time, many times. When it gets dark and everybody’s gone home and the lights are turned off, it’s just me and her.” (Johnny Cash, Rolling Stone)
Did you ever want it?
Did you want it bad?
Oh, my
It tears me apart
Did you ever fight it?
All of the pain, so much power
Running through my veins
Bleeding, I’m bleeding
My cold little heart
Oh I, I can’t stand myself
And I know
In my heart, in this cold heart
I can live or I can die
I believe if I just try
You believe in you and I
In you and I
In you and I
In you and I
It was Sir Elton’s birthday the yesterday, so my Amazon music was playing some of his albums He’s one of my all-time favorite artists. I saw him in concert a few years ago, and he was amazing. Full of energy and quite gracious, not the diva he’s been portrayed to be. Perhaps he’s mellowed with age. 😆 Although this is one of his lesser-known songs, it’s one of my personal favorites.
I am so enamored with this tiny house. I want one just like it (except in my decorating style) someplace outside the city. I want peace and quiet and the privacy to sit in my bathrobe (or less) and sip my morning cup of tea on the back patio in the warm morning sunshine. I want a little garden so I can grow my own fresh veggies and herbs and the rest of the yard can be wild flowers or other naturalized growth. Grass is a waste of resources and energy. I want bird feeders so I can watch the birds as I sip the aforementioned tea. I want books and bubble baths. Long bicycle rides and sunset walks. The only extravagance I’d add would be a jacuzzi on the patio. Because have ever soaked in the hot water on a cool evening and just watched the stars up in the sky? It’s amazing.
I don’t want to sit in an office all day for the rest of my life. It’s slowly sucking away my soul. While I am good at what I do, I don’t like it. I find no satisfaction in it. What’s that line from a song? “I have seen your nine to fives wash away your dreams.”
I’d rather write code and work with people, probably seniors, to help them live a healthier, more active life. I want a simple life.
I can finally admit that I’d like a companion to share all of this with. I’ve spent most of my adult life alone. I’ve struggled with finally admitting that at times I have been, and sometimes am, lonely. I don’t know why, but I’d rather say that I’m an ax murdered than lonely. However, I truly enjoy my own company, I know how to take care of myself, and I know how to be alone. (Hey, I’m an introvert, so at times I need to be alone, or at least around someone who understands introverts. I think introverts are so misunderstood. For example– introverts aren’t shy!) I realized that all of those things actually makes me pretty damn good company. The most beautiful part to loving a guarded girl is this: when she lets you in, it’s not because she needs you. She stopped needing people a long time ago. It’s because she wants you. And that – that is the purest love of all.
I don’t want a lot of money or fancy things. The older I get, the more I realize that it isn’t about material things, or pride, or ego. It’s about our hearts and who (and what) they beat for.
Sometimes I go for days, even weeks, without remembering my dreams. Last night was not one of those nights. No, last night was full of extremely vivid dreams. I don’t have nightmares, but last night’s dreams left me feeling unsettled. One of them was about my younger sister in which she was about the age that she was in the photo above. She’s the short one next to me. On the other side of her is my older sister. Dreams are strange things.
Late Afternoon, New York, Winter by Frederick Childe Hassam // “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles
I really enjoyed the above-linked mashup of art and Beatles music, because those are two of my favorite things. I became a fan at a young age because I had my aunt’s and uncle’s old records. I used to have every Beatles album on CD, but in my great purge of possessions, I gave them all away. I have them on my iPod, but it just isn’t the same. So, as a birthday gift to myself, I bought a record player. I’m usually against acquiring more material possessions, but I’ll make an exception when it comes to music. I’m looking forward to hunting for vinyl treasure in used bookstores and record shops. The sound of the needle scratching and the mesmerizing spin of the record on the turntable takes me back to many happy hours spent as a child. My grandmother had one of those huge console stereo record players. I loved that thing, and the way the stack of records would drop, one after the other. She had a whole collection of swing and big band music that she’d play for us. I can’t hear a Glenn Miller or a Benny Goodman song without smiling and thinking of her.
The recurring theme of my weekend seems to be booty. No, not in that way. I’m currently reading a book about physical training, kinesiology, and neurophysiology. Yeah, I’m a nerd. 😉 Most of it is pretty technical, but this photo in the book made me laugh:
Is wanting a bigger booty like having straight hair and wishing for curly hair?