Tag Archives: florence and the machine

[sic] playlist: the water sustains me.

The_Beach-sic

I just want to run and dive in.

This picture is from the last time I was at the ocean. It was at a wedding; the air was crisp and perfect. The waves gently lapped against the shore, and I wanted to dive in so badly. I was wearing a navy cotton eyelet dress and shiny patent flats, which I took off to dig my toes into the moist sand. I wonder when I’ll ever be able to go to the ocean again.

I wasn’t going to write about this or bitch about it any more than I have, but to hell with it. I miss the ocean. I feel the swell in my belly and my breast, but I cannot go to the ocean right now. I have solar dermatitis, which is a skin rash that flares up in the sun, and boy, the sun has been one hell of a showy bitch this summer. I have to be outdoors for work, and that is bad enough. The itch is immediate and strong. My skin is deeply tanned but blotchy and bumpy, little white spots peeking through the caramel in a mocking sort of way. Mind you, I am religious about sunscreen, so it’s not for my lack of sun safety. No, the heat and brightness of that big star has overpowered me.

One week, we had continuous clouds and rain every day, and I was actually joyous at times. My skin had stopped crawling for a few days. But now….

I have, of course, made a playlist of all the songs that bring me some sense of cool and calm, that speak to my longing for water. I wish the beach was close enough that I could at least visit after sundown, just go and inhale the clean saline scent, feel it on my skin. I feel so lost without it. Perhaps my love for autumn has manifested itself as a burning hatred for these hot and humid times.

Enjoy while soaking up the sun or, if you’re like me, looking outside your window and wishing your body wasn’t rejecting summer.

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[sic] meditation on ancient: a playlist and a poem.

ancient_playlist

Listen and be transported. Ancient

 

ANCIENT
bones
dig up the calcified relics
dust them off and
don’t tell anyone the truth
build them up
sort and stack
rearrange until they appear attractive
the Jurassic era, ferocious
magnificent, wild beasts
pre-human
pre-god
consumed by fire
or ice
the verdict is still out
the jaws hold only echoes
nothing concrete

they live in museums now
some shockingly nude
skeletons in a great hall
overlooking Central Park
guarding three dimensional history lessons
others covered in skins of
their brethren
next to intricately carved replicas of
native people
who still exist
as if extinction is imminent

I want to press you into
clay
carve your memory in earth
mine
all mine
the faeries will stand watch they have been around longer than any of us
zipping about
planting the first seedlings
from ambrosia
sipping sap

I think a faery was the first
vampire
plant syrup was far too sweet
they required
bitter, bitter fruit
and made humans
in their image, then
blurred us all, softened
edges, now we are not so
beautiful
we are all just short of perfection
injected faery dust into our veins
waited for the magic to bewitch
these organs crafted from
slippery fish skins
trout pout hearts
Shakespeare was a mouthpiece
for the fae
the tragedies in particular
those absinthe loving little fuckers crave
bloodshed
(ovulation was just their sick sense of humor at work)

there is a show at the planetarium

simulation of becoming

big bangs

white hot stars sizzle

ancient fae trapped in rocks

this is what i think

there is magic in us now

my guts
viscera
petrified
you keep them in the wooden bowl
by your bed
next to your keys
I retrieved most of them last time I saw you
but I left a blob about the size of a quarter
it’s probably a hard little smear
you tried to scrape off with your thumbnail
but stubbornly it
stays

i’m preserving bittersweet memories
like insects trapped in
amber
they will outlive all of us
we will be dust
and they will still have the capacity to sting.

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[sic] playlist: wild

Image

Go Wild!

Listen here: Kindred Collective: Wild

I am loving this theme so much. I’ve been thinking about all of my wild times, my past, riding in cars with boys, kisses at 4am, stomping and screaming, throwing fits, smoking cigarettes, downing shots, loving every fucked up minute of it, going crazy. This playlist is kind of a mixed bag of rock, dance and juuuust a little bit of pop, but it all speaks to me. It brings me to that place where I can be free, where my creativity lives and breathes. Oh, and speaking of, here’s a poem I wrote while feeling caged this week. I honor the beast within. We will make beautiful things together.

wild_poem1

wild_poem2

I was going to fix these photos but decided not to because I’m fucking sick of perfection. Here’s the text, all typed out so you can read it clearly:

wild.

snarling beast

in the hollow of my throat

you are so angry

mauling my nerves

to a pulp

treading on my stomach

filthy paw prints on my chest

i am trying to save you

and save myself

but you are so temperamental

you still howl at the moon

and i like it

the way my mouth forms a round little

o

as i submit to your will

run

run through concrete jungles

under neon nights

a million fluorescent moons beckon

yet i keep you here

in this goddamn cage

all painted up

reminding you of what you’re missing

you claw at me from within and

mark the days of captivity on the

underside of my flesh.

And, finally, how I’m feeling about a lot of the negative bullshit and feeling trapped in my life:

had_it

[sic]

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[sic] theme: girls.

Girls. Women. Ladies. Witches, bitches, brujas, pendejas. Wonder Woman, Black Widow, Supergirl, Powerpuff Girls. Girly shows, drag queens, burlesque. Madonna, Lady Gaga, Lita Ford, Taylor Swift, Courtney Love, Gwen Stefani, virgin/whore. A brilliant mix of everything. Sugar, spice, everything nice, with a splash of absinthe. Princesses, prima donnas, sluts, prudes. Mommy, Amazon warrior, breadwinner, housewife. Fat bottom girl, skinny little bitch. Baby makers, birth controllers. We are so many things, or at least we are expected to be. Growing up in a household full of women, where men and boys were guests but never the main attraction, I am fascinated by the perceptions of women in society. My sisters’ birthdays are this week, so of course I have the girls and women that have shaped my life on the brain. Give it to me, members of the Collective! What do women mean to you? Who are the girls in your life? Give me stories of your inner children, mommyhood, bridezillas (talk about stereotypes!). Talk to me about the vagina, menstruation, sex, oppression, freedom, breast-feeding, girls’ night out–or in. Whatever the word “girls” sparks to you, bring it! (Even, yes, the show, which I will be discussing later in the week.) This goes for you too, dear reader. Comment, debate, let’s get this rolling.

Do you think I would leave you without some inspiration music? As if! This is for my sisters, two awesome, classy broads, and my niece, the coolest 11-year-old on the planet. They are truly my best girls.

girls_mix

who run the world? you already know.

Listen here: Kindred Collective: Girls

[sic]

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Dance Your Way to Worlds Untouched: Another Playlist

This post was inspired by the playlist that Jessa made for this week’s theme. Music transports me to another plane of conciousness, and it got me thinking about the places that I go when I listen to these kinds of songs. So here’s a playlist I have made of tunes that take me out of the grind and into other worlds of magic, beauty, light and darkness.

Sigur Ros:  Saegolpur
I am walking through a forest covered in snow. I can hear the crunching of it under my feet, and there are crows above me in the trees, their eyes to the sky and their beaks open and they are making the strangest noises, of static, of clocks ticking.
There are shapes moving in between the trees, dark shapes with glowing green eyes.

As I approach them, moving deeper into the thicker parts of the forest, they begin to move faster, circling me, faster and faster until my feet are lifted off the ground. I am born up through the canopy by the mysterious shapes, and soon I am flying, over snow-capped mountains, across forest, and ocean.
I am so overwhelmed by the beauty of it all that I do not notice we are being chased. Bright colours are exploding around us, clouds of dust like the ones you see in India. The sky cracks open with thunder and lightning, and all that I feel in that moment swells up in my chest and bursts forth from my mouth.
The shapes that bore me lay me down gently on the peak of the highest mountain, and I am watching them leave with the piece of my soul in tow.
I am waving goodbye.

Yes Anastasia: Tori Amos
I am running. Through streets of a city that I know but the streets does not look familiar to me. My dress is red silk but it is torn in many places and my hair is long, falling out and down my back. I am climbing over fences and through people’s backyards and my hands are streaked with blood and mud. I reach the edge of the city, where the old, stone sewers meet the ocean. I climb up to the lip of the sewer, and turn to face my pursuer; I can barely make him out in the darkness; I see red eyes, steam rising from his nostrils, and his feet, which shine in the moonlight but look more like hooves than polished leather shoes.  
I take a breath, and dive heard first into the sea.

Shake It Out: Florence and the Machine
I am at a party and I am the only human being there. There are foxes dressed like the 10th Doctor, wolves dressed in leather jackets and combat boots, birds of paradise wearing nothing but jewels and lace and panther wearing an authentic Japanese silk kimono. I am wearing a peacock green dress with real feathers in my hair. We are all drinking champagne and dancing like wild animals.

Running Up That Hill: Kate Bush
All I see when I listen to this song is this. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Dirty Paws: Of Monsters and Men
This is such a story song that I am always transported to the world of the creatures of snow. Listen to it and then tell me what the world looks like for you.

Urge for Going: Joni Mitchell
I am sitting on the roof my house watching the seasons change. There is a weather vein with a large golden angel top it. It turns to face me when there is a north easterly wind.
I am watching people come and go; it is winter now, and some of the people are leaving to chase down the summer. I want to follow them but I can’t, because the angel hasn’t given me my wings yet.

Bloodbuzz Ohio: The National
I have the ability to dissolve my body into a cloud of free particles that move about like a swarm of bees, and I use this power to travel the world.

The Gentle Roar: Niki and the Dove
I am a street urchin living on an abandoned train platform, and we’re performing a ritual dance to protect us from an unknown darkness hiding in the tunnels. There is a fire burning and the air smells sweet and we have painted sigils on each other, talismans for protection with glow in the dark paint.  

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