jack-o-lantern grinning in front of my computer, i must paint a funny picture right now. i am poised, arms raised and hands curled a la daffy duck as the phantom of the opera, and preparing to allow those hands to descend furiously on the keyboard.
this weekend involved a visit to chicago for lollapalooza, and there was plenty to see, do, and enjoy. i got to see people i haven't seen in years...16, to be exact. i got to visit with some of my favorite people, and spend extensive amounts of time gazing surreptitiously at some of my favorite faces (TOTALLY undetected, of course, because i am a SNEAKY girl).
...but this is not about that.
i feel a visceral joy in music. i drape its layers about my shoulders, dangle each note from my earlobes, and pretend that i am a queen just like i did when i was five. i savor every lyric as it tickles its way into my brain, through my skull, down my throat, and into my belly. when the music is live, both sight and touch are added to the sensory delight. i get to imprint each image onto the inside of my eyelids so that when my eyes roll back into my head, i still get to see them. the muscle of the speakers pummels the sounds through the ground and my sneakers, rattling my bones and teeth. see? visceral.
this show was no exception. many, many, MANY bands played, and each brought something new and delicious. but, oh, frightened rabbit...hhhhheeerrrrrrrmmmmmmmffffff.
consider pain, not a sharp pain, mind you, a dull pain that registers violet like a bruise. now, consider what it feels like when that pain suddenly, and for whatever reason, dissipates. it's more than just the lack of pain that makes you want to smile, it's the relief of all the other things that go along with hurting--tiredness, sadness, and the meanness you sometimes can't help. listening to frightened rabbit reminded me of the first moment when you realize that it doesn't hurt...that everything is going to be okay.
wait...i'm not explaining that well.
listening to their words (and you KNOW that the words are my food, my rest, my armor), feeling the waves of each song through the ground, actually SEEING the faces of the people responsible for creating it AS they are creating it...? how can i explain it? it's like finding an unknown room in your house, but saying to yourself, "of COURSE it has always been here!" but it's better than that. it's like opening the door to that room and finding every blown dandelion, every expired birthday candle, every boxcar, every shooting star, every eye-squinted, fist-clenched, oh-please-oh-please-oh-please wish that was made silently and secretly (and probably sheepishly)...and finding every one of them granted.
THAT is what it is like to watch them play, and i'm glad for the face that was there to see it with me.
today's word of the day is troglodytic.
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