There is a song: 'Jubilee' by Mary Chapin Carpenter. Years back now Romanticgirl (who is a writer of great power you guys,) wrote a lovely thing called 'Wreckage and Rust,' which introduced me to the song. Her story was Horatio-world, but very weary and adult, as I remember. Loss, loss...
The song is on my ipod now, has been since then. And I don't know if it reminds me more of Archie, or Horatio, or of some version of me, but every few months I have a listen to see if it still makes we weak with tears. The good kind of tears, the kind that let the poison out. So far, yes.
I don't know much about music. But there is something about the way the notes swell and then dwindle, how the fiddle comes in underneath with a thing that might be a reel, if reels were for weeping. The lyrics are lovely, very simple and clear. I don't know, just listen to it. let me know what you all think.
The song is on my ipod now, has been since then. And I don't know if it reminds me more of Archie, or Horatio, or of some version of me, but every few months I have a listen to see if it still makes we weak with tears. The good kind of tears, the kind that let the poison out. So far, yes.
I don't know much about music. But there is something about the way the notes swell and then dwindle, how the fiddle comes in underneath with a thing that might be a reel, if reels were for weeping. The lyrics are lovely, very simple and clear. I don't know, just listen to it. let me know what you all think.
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eglantine_br- eglantine_br
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Amen to that. She's one of the best, and you're right up there with her.
I remember reading Wreckage and Rust, the final line is like a punch in the gut. I had never listened to the song until now though, and yes, I get it. That line about the tree though, it's your Horatio and your Archie it makes me think of, and the boxwood tree by the doorstep. They were so young then...
FWIW, the song that always gets me is This Woman's Work by Kate Bush as set to this beautiful fanvid. Barring the first verse, the lyrics are so perfect. So much so that I posted them here a long time ago.
The boxewood hedge that smells like cat pee, And the horsehaor sofa, and the discovery of love. Yes.
I cannot write him letting go of life at 22. It just hurts too much. LKU because anything else is unbearable.
They really are perfect aren't they? I think they really capture the sheer incomprehension of loss.
The boxewood hedge that smells like cat pee, And the horsehaor sofa, and the discovery of love. Yes.
And the blue peaked room, and the pond and the field. I'll never forget them you know.
I cannot write him letting go of life at 22. It just hurts too much. LKU because anything else is unbearable.
And for that, I am very grateful indeed.
its strange how these sort of thoughts come with Autumn these days -at least that kind of wistfulness
am writing some Indy boy related things today and now thinking about some of them who died at that kind of age, and buried far away in Jamaica and India and elsewhere...
but strange mixture here becuase also have much sillier story in head trying to get out at the moment.