March showers bring April floods

I skim over poems when I read them, seeking answers in their brevity. Same as when I write; to the point and under the dust of cryptic words. Rhythm and melody as scribbles in ink: all similes and alliteration. Always my black notebook is poised for recording the next mixtape gem or life-altering moment maker. That path is already part of my past and it hearkens me to return. To fall at the feet of my own good ideas and believe they carry weight. Crying over my own sentiment only means I'm being self-indulgent. It was meant to be your happiness. I can convince myself, but I find that my heart's match may not be so easily persuaded. Or I am making substance from the breaths in our conversation, they hold hopes for only moments 'til we turn our tired eyes to opposite sides of the bedroom.

Moving on. Another shot at a catch phrase for finding love.

in like a very sunny lion

It was a warm Sunday in early March.

The night before I went out drinking with my roommate, Alex. We had intended to celebrate our friend Dan's birthday, but he took a last minute trip across the state and neglected to inform us. I was already two glasses and a shot of whiskey down when I found out, and it was his birthday after all, so I didn't mind much. I had been awake since 8:00 that morning so I could give Sarah a ride to work, and while I had braced for a long night, heading home to instant sleep in a few hours sounded wonderful. After I finished my first pint of beer we moved to another bar serving food. The jukebox skipped one of my favorite songs, and we chatted for an hour or so about this and that before I admitted how tired I was. We walked home, forgetting that the day's warmth was no longer with us. There was still a line of people outside Rose O' Grady's; I only shivered when we walked past them.

This morning I woke at 10:00 without an ounce of a hangover. I made some coffee and sat in bed reading the book Julie let me borrow last year that I've been trying to finish. Alex had asked me to wake him up at 11:00 so we could get breakfast, but remembered that his mom was taking him to lunch. I made myself an egg sandwich and opened all the windows of the living room. I lit some incense and let the sound of the birds mingle with Tape's Rideau. This is how I wake myself on weekends. Welcoming the day and being thankful for all its hours offer. Afterwards was breathing in the practically-spring air; taking a first jog of the year and helping Sarah make a poster for her uncle's candle business.

Tomorrow will be warmer, and that is something magical. Something undefinable and out of reach. Like the way a woman's long skirt sways as she walks: her hips swinging with the melody of the sunshine. She does not look at me, I am simply in awe. At that moment she is above our human feelings, out of any love she might feel and only embraced by the Day for how she moves. Even if she turns to see me staring, and smiles, we are not connected. I believe in that moment it is the joy of living that shines on her face. A radiance I am in no league with, and must sit in silent appreciation of, because it will be gone when she speaks.

thank you, February

Thank you, February, for flying by. In recent years, you have stuck around like ice on my car in a snowstorm. An even four weeks of misery and shivering and chattering my teeth at every stoplight on my way to work. No schedule could be busy enough to distract me from the bleak white outside the forced-air heat of the office where I work. When I wrap myself in scarves and make my way home for the evening, you are cruel enough to shroud the sky with clouds. I am restless when I return, and wool sweaters are never enough to keep the winter air from reaching my bones and drying my skin and as I cling to a blanket, nursing a cup of tea. But this year, you let me peek out from under your cloak of cold depression and I discovered my own warmth outside the weather. Perhaps it was my old friend and new roommate, Alex, who kept me from setting myself into patterns of inactivity - simply with his presence. I sometimes hear him creaking the floorboards of the upstairs where he sleeps; a reminder hanging over my head indeed. Maybe new windows or a better heated house have insulated me from your torments, or a confidence in my career that has me far from being overwhelmed. I place my own appreciation in my new love. A woman who is so much more to me than a kiss and kind words, or a warm body sleeping beside me. Her tiny smiles and the way she holds her cats keep me eyes-closed and smiling as your wicked wind burns my face. Her songs are a part of my soundtrack, and I am dreaming of our summer together under warmer days than you would ever yield. I am complacent and lost in her eyes, while you are attempting to break her spell. Fruitless, February! This strength far outweighs the icicles on my awning, or the heavy snow you piled in my driveway. With every shovelful I am defying you. I feel a cozy company in the world I have drawn around me, with your dreary days as my unexpected ink. You are still not my favorite month, and I read far less books under your Sunday skies than I intended, but you are almost behind me. Good riddance! But thank you all the same, for growing me one more month.

to sustain my crazy

Rooted so fully in sustainability. Why shouldn't I want to keep this going? This pilgrimage to lands of my dreams with a slow deep breath and a welling in my heart of joy and expression. The swirl of colors from our dancing and the melodies that bleed into Sunday afternoons as I drink in the noise around me. Shifting in your seat at my side questions a comfort I have been sculpting so carefully, and I watch in fear at this house of cards breathed down, tumbling to my feet. True, I build these silly visions with a romantic eye and a longing for something more. Will I ever sigh so humbly at everything you've given me? or sulk soundly in my obstinacy. "Please please please let me get what I want". "If I can't have what I want, I don't want anything". "I want you".

We stand so close, and my mind traces itself around your face. I lose my grip on sustainability, and want to explode myself from devotion. I feel that everything I've been looking for could be found in your eyes and your hair; the bangs you've denounced with such fervor, as your opinions always stand like pillars in concrete. You are quick to dismiss my lunacy, but I do not wish to be rescued from this drowning. I would rather sink than swim in contentment, and let it kill me. Maybe I will come to second life in a even-keeled affection where we are never crazy, never foolish. Not now.

working on the weekend

Yesterday I bought tickets for Sarah and I to see Spoon at the Royal Oak Music Theatre on March 30th. I already took the day after off, and if there's any kind of lull in our schedule at RingSide, I am seriously considering taking that whole week off. So far, January has been my busiest month ever at RingSide (and it's not even over yet.) Just last week I worked 10 hours on Sunday, 12 on MLK Day, and 13 Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. We're working on Saturday right now, and I might be working again tomorrow. On the bright side, this is going to amount to some awesome overtime pay.

A couple weeks ago Alex moved into the upstairs of my house. He had the great idea of tearing up the carpet to see what the hardwood floors underneath look like. I was afraid after the pain in the ass it was to refinish the floors downstairs, but fortunately upstairs the wood was in amazing shape, with a newer, better padding that came right off. I really enjoy having someone else in my house. Sarah has been spending the night and staying there as well after I leave for work. Since I've barely been at home, it's good that it's being lived in.

I've been overwhelming myself with new music recently. Alex gave me six albums that he got from his friend, I've downloaded almost the entire Guided By Voices discography, plus tons of stuff from Built To Spill, Pavement, Quasi, and Echo & The Bunnymen (all recommendations from Sarah.)

All in all, things are awesome right now.

I have no problem with the PBR can on my porch

I have no problem with the PBR can on my porch. It is perched on a window ledge staring out at the morning on my street; the neighbor's cars and the week old snow. Sarah must have left it there when she went onto the porch to smoke last night. I am now imagining her standing there, clutching her shoulders to keep warm as she drags on her cigarette before blowing out the screen door. As I stand next to the coffee pot hissing the day awake, I am lost in the thought of her comfortable and cold at 2:00 AM. My mind settles into a happiness that tells me nothing can bring me down today.

Ray's list for 2009

10. Engineers - Three Fact Fader

Heavily effected guitars give Engineers a very electronic-driven feel. Entrenching, wall-of-sound melodies and soft-sung poetic, vocals make for an album that is ambient and powerful at the same time.

9. Wilco - Wilco (The Album)

Compare and contrast this to Wilco's older work all you want, it's still pretty good. Solid pop rock songs with a little less spastic guitar than on previous albums - but it's still there. Some straight-forward sentimental messages seem to be a deviation from previous work (excluding "I'm the man who loves you", of course.) Although, maybe I'm not as diehard about Wilco's older work. I'm certainly not against where the band is going.

8. A.C. Newman - Get Guilty

When I heard this album was coming out, I expected it would end up very high on my list. I was a huge fan of the quiet energy on his first album "The Slow Wonder". "Get Guilty", however, seems too... loud. Maybe it's a sign of being booked at bigger venues, but the style of this album is very anthemic, and at home on a large stage. And if that's the case, then all the more power to Mr. Newman for doing what he wants to well - I'd rather he turned down the shouts and crashing symbols.

7. Camera Obscura - My Maudlin Career

The ladies in Camera Obscura have always made glowing, enjoyable melodies. This album is solid from start to finish. I noticed more strings and horns than on previous works, and they only add to the warmth of their already cheery songs.

6. Junior Boys - Begone Dull Care

I have followed these guys ever since I saw them open for Caribou a couple years ago. Each of their albums seem to focus on different energies within the electronic music genre. On "Begone Dull Care" there is an 8-bit influence not present on their previous work that combines nicely with whispered vocals, but also draws out a new, more punctual singing style on some songs.

5. Au Revoir Simone - Still Night, Still Light

For as underwhelmed as I've been with Au Revoir Simone in the past, this album really surprised me. With drum machine rhythms and catchy keyboard chords, the wonderfully haunting vocals are able to soar. Another album that is consistent all the way through.

4. Asobi Seksu - Hush

For those who think shoegaze died with My Bloody Valentine, Asobi Seksu puts out an array of sounds on one exceptional album. From more straight-forward, muted indie rock to dreamy, radiant songs, the singer shines at all ranges, reaching to light and airy at times. This is the kind of album that you have to appreciate for all it's able to accomplish.

3. Reverie Sound Revue - Reverie Sound Revue

I waited for this album longer than I've ever waited for an album. After being blown away by their EP that I heard in 2006, I have been raving to my friends about the vocal talents of Lisa Lobsinger and RSR's amazingly catchy, simple rhythms. Now they have an LP under their belt, and what keeps this from being number one or two on my list is how they've slowed things down on a few songs. While it still nicely compliments Lisa's beautiful voice, I prefer when the band really rocks out (which they still do occasionally.)

2. Apostle Of Hustle - Eats Darkness

In my opinion, the champions of uniqueness in indie rock, Andrew Whiteman's Apostle of Hustle have turned out another gem of an album. Sure, when you take out the quirky interludes you're only left with seven real songs, but each one of them is fantastic. I am still enamored with the promotional write-up on AoH's MySpace. "swallowing poison usually leads to death, but not if the patient knows the art of transformation, not if they can "stomach" the bullshit & hell that is surrounding and tormenting them. this then is the process - one eats darkness & somehow is able to excrete out pure light!"

1. Halloween, Alaska - Champagne Downtown

One of the first albums I bought in a long time, for me this album was about realizing what I really loved in music. From the incredibly poetic (and even chilling) lyrics, to the moody, mellow parts, and even some experimentalism (self-censoring?). Not only that, but it cemented Halloween, Alaska as one of my all-time favorite bands.