Miniature Soundtracks : Episode Three
Miniature Soundtracks is my small experiment in mp3 blogging. I'll be using a beloved image from my flickr photostream or favorites, reflect on it for a few sentences, and then give you a song that evokes the same feelings. If your photo or song is featured and you'd rather it not be, let me know and I'll take it down immediately.
Matthew, by me. March 15, 2005 (was it that long ago? really?)
There are photos. Rare ones. That capture a second you remember so perfectly that it's time travel to look at them. The smell and the feeling in your heart and the music you listened to that day, the way your cat acted, the way it was at the airport, and later walking across the town lake bridge, and later still playing pool in a dark place. The sun and the gate of the apartment and the tiny sidewalk in front of it. It's even weirder when a person is like that, where just looking at them brings on a wave of senses and feelings and sounds so intense that you feel like you're drowning in it just to see them. It's weirder still when a person does that to you right at first, when you barely know them, when you've ended up at their apartment and you're stepping on their feet dancing to Sigur Ros. Then a week later you're on a bus crying over a Prince song and everything has been rearranged. The world feels like a tetris cube in and after those precious moments. You just turned a corner you didn't know was there. Suddenly, there's a whole side of red! And then, the moment or the week or the person is gone and you flip the cube over and realize the other side isn't matching at all, and you have to start over again.
When those times happen, you lose your sense of time and space but grab on tightly to everything else in the world -- the wooden attic, the shoulders, the way the words sound like 'it's you' even though they're actually in a foreign language, the people outside and the memories wrapped up in them, the tiny pieces of skin you're biting off of the inside of your lower lip. I posed Matt for this picture and it was a time when I knew as I was pressing the shutter that it would be this beautiful, because I knew it was one of those days and Matthew is one of those people. Before the picture was ever developed in a darkroom, it was stamped behind my eyelids forever. Sometimes, still, when the world is dark and cold and scary, I can close my eyes and be right there, right then. And that, my loves, is forever.
Sometimes In Snows In April : Prince from Parade
Matthew, by me. March 15, 2005 (was it that long ago? really?)
There are photos. Rare ones. That capture a second you remember so perfectly that it's time travel to look at them. The smell and the feeling in your heart and the music you listened to that day, the way your cat acted, the way it was at the airport, and later walking across the town lake bridge, and later still playing pool in a dark place. The sun and the gate of the apartment and the tiny sidewalk in front of it. It's even weirder when a person is like that, where just looking at them brings on a wave of senses and feelings and sounds so intense that you feel like you're drowning in it just to see them. It's weirder still when a person does that to you right at first, when you barely know them, when you've ended up at their apartment and you're stepping on their feet dancing to Sigur Ros. Then a week later you're on a bus crying over a Prince song and everything has been rearranged. The world feels like a tetris cube in and after those precious moments. You just turned a corner you didn't know was there. Suddenly, there's a whole side of red! And then, the moment or the week or the person is gone and you flip the cube over and realize the other side isn't matching at all, and you have to start over again.
When those times happen, you lose your sense of time and space but grab on tightly to everything else in the world -- the wooden attic, the shoulders, the way the words sound like 'it's you' even though they're actually in a foreign language, the people outside and the memories wrapped up in them, the tiny pieces of skin you're biting off of the inside of your lower lip. I posed Matt for this picture and it was a time when I knew as I was pressing the shutter that it would be this beautiful, because I knew it was one of those days and Matthew is one of those people. Before the picture was ever developed in a darkroom, it was stamped behind my eyelids forever. Sometimes, still, when the world is dark and cold and scary, I can close my eyes and be right there, right then. And that, my loves, is forever.
Sometimes In Snows In April : Prince from Parade
Labels: love, lovedones, miniaturesoundtracks, music
posted by summer anne burton at
9:37 AM
1 Comments:
I love that song!
I remember listening to it last year, because it actually was ... snowing in April. Rarely have I found such a literally appropriate soundtrack for a specific moment.
Yeah, I know my story's not as exciting as yours...
Oh, and get ready for manifesto-blogging ... it's on its way ... !!!
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