“claire” as I stand on this 16th of february,2020
I am a loud-spoken activist who gets excited about plants and rock climbing
I love sunsets even more than sunrises
Because while nothing beats falling asleep in the Red River Gorge and waking up to the soft
Pinks yellows of the morning sun, there is something about
The way the sun sets the sky aflame before it says goodnight
I’ve visited a lot of places—I love to travel—but I will never say I’ve seen enough
I want to go everywhere there is to go,
Do everything there is to do
I love to dance but I’m sometimes too hard on myself
Freedom of self-expression is something that I’m working on
I used to love Merlin and Harry Potter—and deep down, I still do
I like minimalism but I can’t get rid of clothes very well, thinking
“Maybe one day…” But I won’t
So forgotten shirts hang in abundance in my closet
I like big earrings and purple lipstick
I’m not sure why I cut my bangs…
Or pierced my nose…or got any of my tattoos
But I did—because that’s what I do—because I’m impulsive
And contentious
I’ll never stand quiet at the face of injustice. You can count on me
for confrontation, but only if it’s absolutely necessary
See, I’m actually quite shy until you really get to know me
I hate iPhones and computers
Yet I have both
I’ll listen to the same new song on repeat until I fall asleep
With it ringing in my ears, silently
I’m a bad vegan—because I love cookies too much
Pulled out exactly three minutes before they’re really done
I love chocolate icing with a spoon
I’m a terrible baker, chef, etc.
Because I am laughably impatient
I’ll yell at you for not recycling—I am known to scavenge through the trash
For a soda can that should’ve been tossed in the other bin
I love my family more than anything
I’m tired of searching for “THETRUTH”
But I am highly existential
I love running—sometimes—but always through the woods
I’ve occasionally been really into yoga
I will always bring it back to climate change
“I want to be an ethnobotanist when I grow up”
I love The Conference of the Birds and Andy Shauf
I love running into friends in public places
I like to pretend to be a dendrologist but somehow novices catch my bluff before even I do
I’m passionate about learning
I love the sunshine—it makes me laugh
I love Christmas lights but I hate
How much energy they waste
I secretly love to sing
I’m inching myself out of depression
I am hopelessly nostalgic
But I am so glad for my precious memories
I love Kentucky,
And I am weirdly insistent that it’s the South
I love deeply and completely, never knowing when to stop
I love flowery weeds
And sunbathing in the grass
And the chimes on my mother’s patio singing that it’s spring
Or otherwise crying for it
“Pride and Prejudice” is my favorite movie—I’ve seen it at least twenty times
I ride a Pennyboard to class
I love calendars and agendas
But I’m terrible at keeping them
I’ve never really played a video game
I don’t have social media but I check my email constantly
I can be a lot sometimes
I’m regularly late but I get stressed out
When it’s time to leave
I will always, without fail, fall asleep
During your favorite movie
I eat way too many pancakes
I like rocks but I hate geology
I think that I’m hilarious
I believe deeply
In fortune cookies and knocking on wood
And I trust in nothing more
Than a pinky swear
Meaning I am very superstitious
I pretty much only shop at Goodwill
I get great joy out of walking in time with the music and I always try to step
In patterns with the sidewalk cracks
I can’t sit still for very long
And I hate standing
I’m very busy
I am afraid of the dark
I’m positively uncertain
About anything
And I’m passionate
About everything
I’m not sure how to finish writing this
THEEND.
Monday, February 17, 2020
Thursday, February 13, 2020
"Spring" by Antonio Vivaldi
My assignment was to listen to a piece of classical music and write about how it made me feel. We had to bring in the piece with the essay, and since we didn't own any classical music at my house, I got out a cassette tape and put it in my new boom box and went to the only place I knew to find classical music: WFPL. I dialed in the station on my boom box, which had both a radio and cassette player, and had my fingers ready to push "play" and "record" at the same time. One song was ending, and I figured I'd better listen to a whole song before writing anything down, so I waited for the next one to start.
"Da DA da na na da DA da! Da DA da na na da DA da!" began the violins. I knew this song! Well, at least I had heard it before, but I couldn't think of where. In a movie maybe? I closed my eyes, listening intently. It sounded joyful, playful even. It made me happy, and I composed my response in my head while I listened. As the piece ended, I pushed "stop," careful not to get the announcer's voice on the recording, but when I did so, I missed out on the name and composer of the song. I tried to call the radio station to see what was just played, but I couldn't get an answer. What to do? What to do?
Call a record store! There was a record store in the Highlands that I was sure would know the name of this song, so I looked up the number in the phone book and called.
"Um, hi. I'm trying to find the name of a song for a project," I stammered.
"Uh, okay," came the response. "Do you know who it's by?"
"No," I replied.
"Do you know the lyrics?" he asked.
"No, it's classical," I said.
"Okaaay," came the answer. "Can you hum it for me?"
"I taped it," I said. "Can I play it for you?"
"Sure," he said.
So I held the phone up to the speaker and hit "play" on the boom box. Out came the familiar, "Da DA da na na da DA da! Da DA da na na da DA da..." I let it play for a few more seconds.
"Yeaaah," he said. "That's 'Spring'."
"'Spring.' Like the season? Got it." I said. "Do you know who the composer is?" I asked.
The voice on the other end sounded a bit incredulous. "Vivaldi," he replied curtly.
"Vi who?" I asked.
"Vi-val-di," came the response.
"Can you spell that for me, please?"
A sigh. "V-I-V-A-L-D-I," he said.
I was writing furiously. "Is there a first name?"
I could almost hear the guy on the other end of the phone smack his face with hand. "Antonio. Do you need me to spell that too?"
"No," I said, "you've been very helpful. Thank you."
Later that week, I went to the record store and bought the cassette with 'Spring' on it. It was the first piece of classical music I owned. I would learn that 'Spring' was one of the most well-known pieces of classical music and one of four violin concertos written as part of The Four Seasons by Vivaldi. To this day, I can't hear 'Spring' without thinking of the conversation I had with the guy from the record store. I chuckle wondering what he thought of a teenage girl learning for the first time about a 175-year old piece of music written by one of the world's most famous composers.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFWQgxXM_b8
"Da DA da na na da DA da! Da DA da na na da DA da!" began the violins. I knew this song! Well, at least I had heard it before, but I couldn't think of where. In a movie maybe? I closed my eyes, listening intently. It sounded joyful, playful even. It made me happy, and I composed my response in my head while I listened. As the piece ended, I pushed "stop," careful not to get the announcer's voice on the recording, but when I did so, I missed out on the name and composer of the song. I tried to call the radio station to see what was just played, but I couldn't get an answer. What to do? What to do?
Call a record store! There was a record store in the Highlands that I was sure would know the name of this song, so I looked up the number in the phone book and called.
"Um, hi. I'm trying to find the name of a song for a project," I stammered.
"Uh, okay," came the response. "Do you know who it's by?"
"No," I replied.
"Do you know the lyrics?" he asked.
"No, it's classical," I said.
"Okaaay," came the answer. "Can you hum it for me?"
"I taped it," I said. "Can I play it for you?"
"Sure," he said.
So I held the phone up to the speaker and hit "play" on the boom box. Out came the familiar, "Da DA da na na da DA da! Da DA da na na da DA da..." I let it play for a few more seconds.
"Yeaaah," he said. "That's 'Spring'."
"'Spring.' Like the season? Got it." I said. "Do you know who the composer is?" I asked.
The voice on the other end sounded a bit incredulous. "Vivaldi," he replied curtly.
"Vi who?" I asked.
"Vi-val-di," came the response.
"Can you spell that for me, please?"
A sigh. "V-I-V-A-L-D-I," he said.
I was writing furiously. "Is there a first name?"
I could almost hear the guy on the other end of the phone smack his face with hand. "Antonio. Do you need me to spell that too?"
"No," I said, "you've been very helpful. Thank you."
Later that week, I went to the record store and bought the cassette with 'Spring' on it. It was the first piece of classical music I owned. I would learn that 'Spring' was one of the most well-known pieces of classical music and one of four violin concertos written as part of The Four Seasons by Vivaldi. To this day, I can't hear 'Spring' without thinking of the conversation I had with the guy from the record store. I chuckle wondering what he thought of a teenage girl learning for the first time about a 175-year old piece of music written by one of the world's most famous composers.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFWQgxXM_b8
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