The one thing stronger than desire

My absolute favorite of all writers who write about love is Jeanette Winterson.

She writes so truly it's impossible to think she hasn't been in love.  And heartbroken.  And in love.

I think that's the most I can do to sum it up, so I'll just hand you over to these pearls.

The only gold

Today's love entry in preparation for Valentine's Day is going to be FULL of good words on love (and lyrics if you're ambitious enough to look them up), because last night I made VALENTINES!

I have not managed to do this since 2001, so yes it absolutely warrants all caps.

Having succeeded at last, I've decided to share with you a one-time-only very special offer of

The This Blue Singer Valentine-Making Tutorial!

That looks on tempests and is never shaken

If you were around for my Christmas blogging, you already know that I believe in holidays.  Yes, yes, they are - all of them! - blown out of all proportion by commercial greed.  And with the bombardment of commercials, candy, and plastic junk in drug stores, they become the measure by which your life is lonelier or emptier than you wish it was, much the same way that supermodels become the measure by which your body is flawed.  But at the core of any holiday is a motif of the human psyche worth celebrating.

And so, in the spirit of celebrating the epic riff of romantic love, I have decided to share some of my favorite words about love with you over the course of this week leading up to Valentine's Day.  My hope is that revisiting these favorites will inspire me to finish some piece of writing (poem? lyrics? prose essay?) on love to share with you on Sunday.

Introduction, check.  So without further ado...

Worcester Mag Interview Outtakes

In anticipation of our show in Worcester tonight, Worcester Magazine interviewed us for an write-up.  Understandably, the article was limited to the key information about us and the show.  


But for me, answering some of these questions was a good way to think through and articulate what it is like for me to be in This Blue Heaven, what it is we're doing.  


So here are some of my answers:

Wheels of life and death

My first writing class was taught by the truly wonderful Gurney Norman.  Someone in the class eventually asked where his name came from and he told the story of asking his (mentally ill) mother that same question.  Her answer:  Wheels of life and death.  Yes, as in, a hospital gurney.

Life intention, Part I

I was quite fresh out of college. I was sitting on a city bus in Madison, Wisconsin, on my way to my $11 an hour temp job processing mortgages at the credit union. The country was in its early economic reeling from 9/11 and mortgage interest rates were plummeting, so everyone was refinancing. Outside it was gray. The bus floor was slimy with grit. My co-riders always seemed to include someone in an inexpensive suit with a worn leather briefcase, someone large and gray-headed in a lopsided stocking cap, someone in a thin insulated plaid shirt looking tired, someone around my age with shinier shoes and tamer hair than mine. On this November day, I took out my journal and, in jagged script from the jolting of the bus ride, I wrote this:

A time to love

Nearly to work, walking in the shade and wind between MIT buildings. My cheeks and knees numb, the numbness creeping up my legs, across my temples. Cheerful orange berries on the vine starting to go black. Thoughts about winter, its wisdom: a time to die. When? And when to persevere? Another winter lesson. I must learn. What light can be found inside? Ahead, two kids standing a foot or two apart, talking. Not touching. Nodding, turning - she away, he in my direction. His chin tucked into his scarf, his grin unmistakable. Even from a distance. Did not see the ice raised from the sidewalk like fresh scars. Did not feel the cold. Grinned and grinned, eyes fixed blindly on his path, teeth to the cold wind as I passed by.

On family

So we're going back into the studio this spring, and I feel all kinds of ways about that. Excited and nervous - so much more aware of what this process involves... and also more aware of my band - what souls we're working with. And the songs! Well. I won't tell you which 2 or 3 we're recording first yet, because there's still a chance we may change our minds. But anyway. To come to the point.

A Christmas List

1. My new favorite Christmas memory this year so far: singing the 12 Days of Christmas with the Bass Player to warm up as we walked to the Middle East show last Saturday night. "Eleven... uhhhh...." All told, he had a harder time counting backwards than remembering the pipers piping, etc.

Hope

I heard this on the behind-the-scenes appendices from the Lord of the Rings film trilogy and found it really wise and articulate. To paraphrase:

Despair is for those who know for certain what the future will be. No one is in that position.