Mar. 9th, 2004

sidewalksparkle: (Default)
Tonight when our leader, Regi, prayed at the end of small group, she started the conclusion of her prayer with "We return this day to You, Father God." And in the car on the way home, a song I'd never heard before, "Come to Jesus" sung by Mindy Smith, played on World Café--I only listened to the end, but it was enough. The time that stretched between and included those two moments was beautiful.

Tomorrow I have to declare my term paper book. I've been planning on Orlando for a long time, but I'm a little worried about coming up with a good topic. I have a long time, but I'm going to need to re-read the book because it's so overwhelming and exciting that I can't focus on anything coherent. I just know that I love it. It must be a good sign that today my mom told me she turned on the radio in the middle of "Writer's Almanac" and that Garrison Keillor was finishing up a poem by Vita Sackville-West. She didn't catch the poem, but heard enough biographical information to know about the affair with Virginia Woolf and how Virginia Woolf wrote Orlando for her. I knew all that already, but it was very reassuring that somehow, the day before having to finalize my decision, Garrison Keillor managed to speak about a related topic. It's amazing how moments often connect in that way. The religious moment during the prayer and then the tail-end of the song. Questioning Orlando and my mom mentioning Vita Sackville-West. The same goes for words--I'll learn a new word and suddenly the word will appear everywhere. And people! We watched a small clip about Mario Cuomo in Government and the next day, as I was re-reading an Anna Quindlen in "Newsweek," I realized she had mentioned the same man.

Right now I am listening to songs from Aimee Mann's website. They're really pretty. There's this one song called "Pavlov's Bell." There's not much I can really say about it--it's just a great song to type to.

I can remember being in some sort of art class a couple of years ago and overhearing Tom say that he would willingly give up any ability he has in visual arts if he could be an amazing musician. At the time, I was stunned. It was sort of shocking to hear my art teacher say such a thing--and Tom is so talented. But occassionally, as I listen to music, I can understand. I don't think any art form can truly be deemed superior to another, but I do know that painting to silence is serious and contemplative while painting to music is glorious. The glory isn't in the arm moving the brush but in the rhythm of the music making the arm move the brush a certain way. Music elevates ordinary moments. People use music to worship God. Out of desperation people let other peoples' songs translate and communicate their own emotions. I can't imagine anything more stunning than creating a song that would let people do whatever it is they need to do to claim it as their own.

Because nobody knows,
that's how I nearly fell,
trading clothes
and ringing Pavlov's Bell.
History shows
but rarely shows it well.

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