Yesterday in the car, these two songs came on one after the other. Lyrically, if not sonically, they seem to be about the same thing, even though they were made 10 years apart. I wondered why it is that – my whole life – I’ve only ever preferred dour music. Or. At least, I’ve only preferred music that suggested some sort of clear-eyed endurance in the face of dread. Mounting dread…
Anyway, that’s not the truth entirely. The truth is, when Amy Hit the Atmosphere came on, I thought immediately of Jason and our trip to Rehoboth and of how wonderful it is to have in him a person who knows me entirely, sees what I see for myself, and is invested in keeping me on that path. I think only a peer can be that way, side-by-side, simpatico.
And that’s not entirely the truth, either. Josh and I are not true peers, but we share, I think, a pure symbiosis of understanding – not necessarily agreement – when it come to art. We listened to The Ecstatic at the same time if not in the same places. When we talked about it, we heard what the other heard in it. We did agree that it was the best album of 2009.
It’s the subtext and subsequence of what Zora Neale Hurston wrote in Their Eyes Were Watching God:
Janie was full of that oldest human longing – self revelation.
We seek to reveal ourselves to those we trust and to those who will, we hope, understand us. It’s why I can spend hours talking on the phone with REDACTED or quarter hours, half hours in silence with Amanda or smile when I think about Jen’s laugh… I could go on an on; I have many, many good friends who I love dearly. I hope that they feel that they have as warm a place in me as I have in them.
It’s nice to look up and feel connected, loved, known.