Monday, January 10, 2011

I am sitting next to a friend, showing her texts from my boyfriend, who is far away. He is making words with his cell phone, sending them, they don't make sense. We're laughing, there's a picture, it's great.

We're all together, some of us, at a show in Brooklyn. I am buzzed and feel small on a big leather sofa. I am not thinking, just listening to the happy busy sounds of friends deep in excited conversation. Music. Processors/samplers/projects/everything, everything. I don't remember which band it was, just being there.

I am in a cornfield in Indiana deep into night. Up from corn sprouts wind turbines, above them stars, below them fireflies. The night is full of insect song and I fall in love with everything.

In Marin the grapevines are pinned with these sparkling sheets of paper. The hills roll golden and shining. Modest Mouse is on the stereo, on us through fog into city unreal and bending.

We light fires on the porch, wait for something to happen. It does.

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