Last night I dreamt of the first snow. It was early morning and I had just emerged from sleep. I descended to the first floor of my apartment and was overcome by the dim, pale, blue light. Outside was like a blizzard, though it was only putting down a heavy dusting. But in the early morning light filtered through the snowfall, I was completely taken by the beauty. I made my coffee and opened my curtains. The blizzard cleared and the brilliant winter sun shone immutably, spilling perfect light into my living room from a paragon sky. I stepped out my back door and smelled the fresh winter air. I felt the snow beneath my toes. I woke up.
The January Thaw is kicking off and, as in previous years, my musical wants turn to a more Spring feel – full of Celtic, folk, and bluegrass flavors with tinges and moments of classic rock and reggae-fused rock.
It’s a very powerful thing for me, emotionally, when the air warms to break the ice and melt the snow. The air is fresh and crisp but the thawing organic material puts the scent of life into the air, carried by a beautiful moisture. It is invigorating. The chorus of snow and ice melting off rooftops is a cacophony that soundtracked many memorable moments in my youth.
This weekend will bounce around temperatures in the 40s and 50s Fahrenheit, so my car will be blaring these warm, friendly tunes out the window.
The lovely lady at the mando is a dear old friend and the tunes this little troupe jam out are like lying in a small meadow blanketed in a life-giving breeze. Their first EP is a free download, so get yourself some old timey goodness. [getcha good tunes]
Anyone familiar with the modern wave of Celtic-inspired music is familiar with Dervish. They’re the top of the crop and their cover of Bob Dylan’s Boots of Spanish Leather is my favorite version of the song.
This thaw and winter are getting a lot of heavy play on Chelsea Wolfe’s new acoustic collection Unknown Rooms. To try and describe it would never do it justice. Instead, simply enjoy the music.
and, of course, a little Sublime
What are you listening to in this period?
That winter I was new, risen from an emotional death and malleable. I read The Hobbit and chain smoked and Dimmu Borgir’s Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia continued to enrapture me. I sat in the cold of winter a different person than a few scant months prior. I could feel greens and browns and blues and the texture of trees beneath my fingers. The world was wonder and magic. I didn’t know where I was going, but I walked anyway. I didn’t need to know. I walked through forests, dreams, fields of thorns, madness, and clarity. Those were the last breaths of something I’ll never grasp again. But why? I am in control of my self. Should it not be so simple as to turn a switch and deem myself anew and full of such energy again? Where did that life, that spirit, that creative thrust, go?
With frost hanging in the air and inclement winter weather moving into the valley, I post yet another old piece, mildly revised and cleaned up, for the reading pleasure of any who will it. This is titled Of Frost And Ardor and sums a feeling still relevant in this period.
The snow begins to blanket the ground, the solstice approaches, the Jul’s days of darkness draw near, the celebrations of light spark, people feel festive and the air feels chilled. It is time for Winter; it is Winter time. What shall I read, listen to, and watch?
Carmilla, Sheridan le Fanu
Books of Blood 1-3, Clive Barker
The Hellbound Heart, Clive Barker
Knocking On Heaven’s Door, Lisa Randall
Star Wars: The Old Republic: Revan, Drew Karpyshyn
Infamous Lady, Kimberly Craft
Music Exploration List:
Movie Viewing List:
The Seventh Seal
Man Bites Dog
My Life As A Dog
In The Realm Of The Senses
Samhain is over and the latter half of Autumn is well in its chilled breath. In November, death has settled into the world and the ground is beginning to harden. The lights of December have not yet reached their prime. Snow taunts and teases and it spits flurries upon us, not yet ready to lay its blanket down. The brilliant, fiery leaves of Autumn’s entrance have all fallen, turning brown upon the earth. In this period, I will make desolate music, before life returns in the joyous celebrations of light that come wrapped around December.
This month is grey.
Shavings of crystalline perfection
Blanket the world
In true, frozen purity.
What breath could be seen
Is taken and held
At the most perfect
From between cracks
Of dense, thick cloud,
Shafts of pale blue
Moon pour. Show me this white,
This season, wherein life is least,
Emanates the most beauty.
My mind holds still;
Thoughts mute before
Sacred winter majesty.
In the distance, a bell
Chimes the hour
Behind pillars of smoke.
In these still, silent
Moments of cold,
I am wholly at peace.
I have not written and posted a blog entry in some time. Perhaps it is my busy schedule. Perhaps I just feel uninspired and unmotivated to do so. Perhaps I just have nothing left in me at the end of my day. That is too bad, indeed, because I love this wintry weather and it typically inspires me to no end. Where, then, has my creativity gone?
Maybe the shorter winter days are once more taking their toll on my brain chemistry. This occurred much in my early teens, and possibly into my childhood. It cannot be the lack of light insofar as my liking persists, as I have a deep affection for the night and its inherent beauty. Perhaps the root of this is a vitamin D deficiency from the lessened sunlight. I can only speculate the cause and try to counter it by taking in more D fortified foods and forcing myself to creative outlets.
I confess to having heard a leak of the new Ihsahn album due out on the 26th, After. I will be buying this without a second thought. It is easily his best solo effort. I recommend it to the world.
I should have been a scientist.