Monday, October 1, 2007

Remembering the music~three concerts



Relishing in the end days of summer, I took to the music.


~Chastain park has a small amphitheater- a calm, peaceful venue. A picnic of goat cheese, soft butter bread for BLT's, apples and wine. The round shape of the amphitheater and tall trees create a moon of space to gaze upon in the lovely, partly-cloudy sky. We eat and chat with our neighbors who offer fresh figs- plump and juicy, soft flavor. We sway to the opening band while everyone eats and laughs- the tense of work peeling away. Relaxing, sipping wine with the soft air wrapping us up-the lights lay dimly in the clouds. Everyone looks up ever so often to catch a glimpse of the darkening lump in the sky. A finger raised here and there- worried for the approaching rain. A few mumbles about metal seats and lightening. The music begins and a roar of excitement rushes towards the stage. Dancing, swaying, drinking, quick-silver glances- keeping a watchful eye on the darkening sky. One drop..then two...people move quickly for cover- I hide under my picnic blanket. The lady next to me shares..J runs for ponchos...I am drenched. I let the rain fall upon my hair and down my legs-chilled by the rain and warmed by the heat in the air. I lift my head to the sky grinning at the kid in me..



~Standing in front of a bare stage, minimal crowd, but intimate as though stumbling upon an open session. Next to me is my dearest friend. The air is stale in this old venue-bittersweet-like high school. This cool chick on stage sings deep and passionate-lonesome at times, but piercing. Her sound strikes me somewhere deep and I want to travel around with her and see all her shows. She's witty and natural. Something beautiful and magical about swaying in the dark- one piano, one girl, one spotlight and one best friend. I felt adolescent again, but wiser. Smiling at chatty teenagers and stealing glances at the beauty beside me, who's been there through it all. She and I-soul friends-she's never far, for I keep her on my mind.



~My left arm is in the sun, hanging out the open window of the patio. I could graze my fingertips on the sidewalk flooded with concertgoers. There is no parking downtown today. We're walking to the concert- devoted to the saving of parks like the one thousands will gather in, to hear some music tonight. I am concentrated on a divine fried green tomato sandwich and local beer, and happy the ground is uneven and our table is at a slant lending character. I love walking on a blocked off street and off the confines of the sidewalk, thinking how structured life can become and how I need to go off the beaten path more. Dusk is beginning to settle and the lines are long and slow. I concentrate on the beach balls freely bouncing upon the fingertips of the sea of people in front of me. The stage is large and the light show is spectacular and flashy. Being so far from the stage I lose the concentration of the music and hear people talking and then an explosion of cheers brings me back. I love the connectedness of thousands of people in one place, enjoying themselves freely and for a good cause.


~Music is such an integral part of life. Whether singing, playing, dancing, listening, waking, crying, driving, or sleeping to music- we're always making it, creating it and encompassing it as the backbone of our life. Sometimes I forget how powerful music is and then I remind myself to listen more and I physically feel my body and soul relax.

3 comments:

kat said...

i love the way you write. you have a flow to your words that is lovely and natural and best.

Amanda said...

oh. i am so tear. and cry. and your words are so perfect. and beautiful. you are an amazing writer, i love how you describe each detail.
love.love.love.

Anonymous said...

I have no words - for sure no words to explain how amazing you are. If you wrote a book about air - it would probably be the most interesting accomplished piece of literature ever written - for you are that good;) You have talent beyond me and I hope that you never stop, for if you stopped there would be no more inspiration - as long as you keep your forever thinking thoughts - Jack will be so lucky to have you as a God Mother

XOXO

M

P.S. My secret wish is to write just like you, but who knows - I might have another blog copywriting all your "blogs" and you'd never know!!! Just like all my stupid professors @ Southern!!!