Hi, Sunflower:
A rich weekend with all the good stuff, plus I got a kickass facial. I feel like a new girl with a new face.
You really can't drink and play records for your friends enough. There probably isn't enough time in the linear time-space dimension to really listen to music with your friends enough--or deeply enough, anyway. What's missing in our time, in linear time, is not quantity, it's depth. We don't get to experience the full range of its splendor.
I have been thinking that music is time itself, showing its true face.
I have also been thinking that music is another dimension, like the fifth of many secret dimensions.
There's two big things to talk about: On Friday night I painted my kitchen lavender. That is what delivered me from the valley of the shadow of mil-dep. On Saturday, among other things, I finally listened to the entire Jeff Lynne side of "Xanadu" for the first time since I was nine. This put the stars back in my sky. And it wasn't just the whiskey and fine company, either.
As a 9 year old, I was obsessed with Xanadu. I couldn't stop listening to it. My friends and I would listen to it over and over and sing along to all the words. We didn't know what the fuck Electric Light Orchestra meant; we didn't know what the lyrics meant; we didn't even know what "Xanadu" meant; we just loved the album so much we had to eat it (the whole album, it must be said). Xanadu was a magical place inside of Los Angeles, and inside our imaginations. We went to the abandoned Pan Pacific Theater, and peeked in the cracks in the doors, and to Venice Beach, looking for Xanadu.
My family shamed me for this, though. They shamed me for my enthusiasm over "bad" music. Ha ha, Kate and her Xanadu.
Well, listen up, fuckers: As a full-grown music fan and writer and shit, I can officially say that Xanadu, the Jeff Lynne side, kicks motherfucking ass, and I totally understand why we loved it so. (And the song with the Tubes is also kind of genius.)
The song "Xanadu" isn't even the half of it. These songs would have or could have been huge ELO hits if they had come out on a proper ELO album. I sat singing with my friend on the couch, singing "The Fall," and we both were crazy-eyed with discovery, because we could not believe how brilliant this music is, and how secret--who would expect this on the fucking Xanadu soundtrack? Jesus. Gimme a break. We realized Jeff Lynne is the most underrated musician of our time.
Plus, the music means something to me emotionally now, in a specific way it couldn't at nine. I understand what the words mean now.
I understand now that there is life after heartbreak--a better, deeper, realer life. In fact, there is heroism and triumph in being the one who never stopped believing in love. In being the brave heart. I respect myself because I am a genuine romantic, not a cynic.
Jeff Lynne writes about my romantic feelings better than anyone.
I wonder if this is because his music taught me about love when I was a child. Maybe that's why I'm so fucked up!
So on another note, nobody offered me any practical help in depression remedies, except for J. Go and my lovely friend Dara, who emailed me. I thought it would be fun to get a running list going of different things people to do to cheer themselves up. Oh well. I took care of it myself. I got to run now.
xo
kate
A rich weekend with all the good stuff, plus I got a kickass facial. I feel like a new girl with a new face.
You really can't drink and play records for your friends enough. There probably isn't enough time in the linear time-space dimension to really listen to music with your friends enough--or deeply enough, anyway. What's missing in our time, in linear time, is not quantity, it's depth. We don't get to experience the full range of its splendor.
I have been thinking that music is time itself, showing its true face.
I have also been thinking that music is another dimension, like the fifth of many secret dimensions.
There's two big things to talk about: On Friday night I painted my kitchen lavender. That is what delivered me from the valley of the shadow of mil-dep. On Saturday, among other things, I finally listened to the entire Jeff Lynne side of "Xanadu" for the first time since I was nine. This put the stars back in my sky. And it wasn't just the whiskey and fine company, either.
As a 9 year old, I was obsessed with Xanadu. I couldn't stop listening to it. My friends and I would listen to it over and over and sing along to all the words. We didn't know what the fuck Electric Light Orchestra meant; we didn't know what the lyrics meant; we didn't even know what "Xanadu" meant; we just loved the album so much we had to eat it (the whole album, it must be said). Xanadu was a magical place inside of Los Angeles, and inside our imaginations. We went to the abandoned Pan Pacific Theater, and peeked in the cracks in the doors, and to Venice Beach, looking for Xanadu.
My family shamed me for this, though. They shamed me for my enthusiasm over "bad" music. Ha ha, Kate and her Xanadu.
Well, listen up, fuckers: As a full-grown music fan and writer and shit, I can officially say that Xanadu, the Jeff Lynne side, kicks motherfucking ass, and I totally understand why we loved it so. (And the song with the Tubes is also kind of genius.)
The song "Xanadu" isn't even the half of it. These songs would have or could have been huge ELO hits if they had come out on a proper ELO album. I sat singing with my friend on the couch, singing "The Fall," and we both were crazy-eyed with discovery, because we could not believe how brilliant this music is, and how secret--who would expect this on the fucking Xanadu soundtrack? Jesus. Gimme a break. We realized Jeff Lynne is the most underrated musician of our time.
Plus, the music means something to me emotionally now, in a specific way it couldn't at nine. I understand what the words mean now.
I understand now that there is life after heartbreak--a better, deeper, realer life. In fact, there is heroism and triumph in being the one who never stopped believing in love. In being the brave heart. I respect myself because I am a genuine romantic, not a cynic.
Jeff Lynne writes about my romantic feelings better than anyone.
I wonder if this is because his music taught me about love when I was a child. Maybe that's why I'm so fucked up!
So on another note, nobody offered me any practical help in depression remedies, except for J. Go and my lovely friend Dara, who emailed me. I thought it would be fun to get a running list going of different things people to do to cheer themselves up. Oh well. I took care of it myself. I got to run now.
xo
kate
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