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tuesdays with tara – volume twenty two

By On September 27, 2010 In life, music, tuesdays with tara With 5 Comments Permanent Link to tuesdays with tara – volume twenty twoPermalink

“You’d better learn your lesson yourself.”

I don’t know why it is, but some of my sharpest memories that I possess of my youth come from when I was just three years old. I haven’t spoken with many people who have memories of being that young.  I don’t know if it’s because it’s how old I was when my blood father left, or what the reasoning is.  All I know is that I have extreme clarity of key events from that age.

One such instance happened on a family vacation to Sanibel Island, Florida.  It was the first time I had been in the ocean.  I was a very confident swimmer for a child my age, and very sturdy.  I can remember my mother letting me go to swim out a bit on my own.  I recall bobbing along in the waves and just giggling delightedly.  But when I made my way back to the shore, everything shifted dramatically.  I got caught in the undertow.  It was as though one minute I were there, my grandmother waving at me from her beach towel, my mother floating behind me, and the next moment, I was trapped some place very dark and troublesome.

I can remember the way it felt when the sand was sucked out from under my little feet.  It just fell away, and too quickly, and the force of it took me back with it.  A wave surged on top of me and I was pinned face down into the sand under the water.  The water continued to pound down onto my back as I just laid there, completely helpless.  I didn’t even try to fight it.  It seemed senseless, possibly, even to my very young brain.  I seemed to somehow understand that I was up against a force much stronger than me and I would just have to wait it out.

Sure enough, the water receded enough for me to stand up.  I was naturally hysterical; out of breath, with sand in my eyes and up my nose and I’d swallowed plenty of salt water.

As a result, I have gone through life with a healthy respect for the power of the sea.

And what of the undertow that has nothing to do with water?  What of the undertow that’s caused by people in your life?  How many times have you found yourself asking what happened to the sand beneath your feet?  How often were you stripped of a sense of security that you felt within the context of a relationship?  When the waves on your back were angry words or broken furniture?

You think you’re a strong swimmer.  And that may be the case.  The undertow, however, is always available for teaching you lessons about fortitude, forbearance, survival, and the will to keep going.

There’s plenty of beauty left in the sea.

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[note: since I'm computerless, forgive the YouTube linkage. it'll be only a few weeks and then all will be well. until then, don't forget to revisit the previous twenty and one entries by Miss Tara.]

something.

By On September 17, 2010 In music, people With 2 Comments Permanent Link to something.Permalink

so, the other day, I took full advantage of having free internet [laugh if you will, that plus hot water are always a nice surprise for me] by downloading [will let you guess which legal route I took] all the Maceo Parker I could.

and everyone should, as he’s the only man alive bad enough to play with The Funky Three…

James Brown

George Clinton

Prince

… why are you still here and why are you not on ISO Hunt iTunes?

so anyway, I downloaded about 14 albums and then compiled them all into a folder and opened ‘em all up to find that, crap, not all tracks were labeled. which meant I had random Maceo Parker tracks all throughout my music!

and then I realized that wasn’t such a band thing.

I’ve been humming this tune for the past 3 days.

please join me.

Maceo Parker – Tell Me Something

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tuesdays with tara – volume twenty-one

By On September 13, 2010 In life, music, tuesdays with tara With No Comments Permanent Link to tuesdays with tara – volume twenty-onePermalink

“My temple has been compromised.”

Faith is such a fragile thing.  It is so easily lost.  When we are in possession of it, we know a quiet strength.  It’s something that others can sense in us, as well, though they may not know why they are so drawn to our energy.  Held aloft by a sense of faith, we bound along with an enviable confidence.

I am not strictly speaking of faith in the religious sense, although certainly that might pertain to you and your own life.  I have traveled down such a road myself, more than once; attempting to grapple with my own confusion by tapping into a higher source.  I’m not sure it lead me to God, but it did help guide me back to myself, which is what I was really searching for all along.

Of all the things I most want to have faith in, it is the goodness of others that I am always seeking out.  Having been abused, mislead, and left behind has left its traces of cynicism in me.  To focus on such things would only lead to bitterness; disillusionment.  So I am always on the lookout for those who might restore my faith in humanity.

Here’s the good news:  I find those people all the time.  My life is full of them.  As far as blessings go, I consider this one to be worth its weight in gold.

Y La Bamba – ‘Juniper’

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missed the other 20 ‘tuesdays with tara’? shame on you. there’ll be a pop quiz soon. the girl is something, lemme tell ya.

tuesdays with tara – volume twenty

By On September 7, 2010 In music, travel, tuesdays with tara With 3 Comments Permanent Link to tuesdays with tara – volume twentyPermalink

There are some songs that are just meant for the road.  This here Roadside Graves tune is one of them.

It’s the perfect time of year to be hittin’ the road, too.  A fine time to be starting out East and heading West.  You can chase Fall the whole way across.  You can travel through orchards bursting with apples while you dream about the ferns and moss that are waiting for you on another shore.

You can still roll down your window, too, and feel the sun on your face as it makes its last great show for a good long while.  You can tap the wheel, throw back your head and sing loud, like a dang fool.

You really could, you know.

Roadside Graves – ‘Junk on the Highway’

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[Tara Noble]

tuesdays with tara – volume nineteen

By On August 24, 2010 In life, music, people, tuesdays with tara With 3 Comments Permanent Link to tuesdays with tara – volume nineteenPermalink

“Oh, if you knew what it meant to me to be where the air was so clear.”

I’m someone who recognizes the inherent power of daydreaming.  I’m rarely happier than when I am free and clear enough to have lucid travels in my mind.  Whether the contents are pure fantasy or events that may one day come to pass is besides the point.  It is the exercise in and of itself that means something.  I find that a good bout of daydreaming can go farther to enhance my mood than just about anything else; and I am a woman of many pleasures.

In the past, I was quite methodical about this practice.  I had to choose a place in which to set my mind loose.  This place had to call me to it.  (I have always had a flair for the dramatic;)

Sometimes, I took a notebook in the event that I wanted to capture any of my thoughts.  Most times, I just found my spot and drifted off for however long it took to feel satisfied with what I had accomplished.

And I have a favorite daydreaming spot of yore:  an old generous tree in a park called Robert E. Lee in suburban Maryland.  I found it one day while trail riding.  I came up over a ridge and there she stood in all of her faded glory.  She had obviously been struck by lighting as her entire top section was missing.  She was split in two besides and her wood was parted as though to form a door just big enough for me to come inside.

On a bright sunny Fall day, I ditched my bike and wandered inside.  It was warm and musky; her innards lined with moss and the discarded shells of cicadas.  The ground inside was so very soft.  I often laid down there; my feet poking out onto the trail.

That tree was my refuge for many a year; my go-to place when life started to feel a little too hard to shoulder.  I would go to that tree and release as many demons as I could from my poor overworked brain.  I was safe there.  My thoughts were safe there.  That tree meant more to me than people I had had in my life for longer.

One fateful day, I made my way on foot to my beloved tree.  When I came upon the place where she ought to be, I lost my breath.  She was gone.  Where she once stood, broken but proud, there lay only a large patch of charred earth.  I sank to the ground on a hill of snow drops, buried my head in my hands and wept.

Luckily, I have evolved to a point where I no longer need a specific respite from which to accomplish my daydreaming.  I can do it on the spot; anywhere, anytime, and still be entirely present.  Admittedly, this is one of my favorite abilities sprung from a more mature mind.  If we are having a conversation and I am daydreaming simultaneously, fear not:  I am listening to you.  Really, I am.  The only thing that might give me away would be a delighted twinkle in my eye that seems ever-so-slightly out of context.

Dark Dark Dark – ‘Daydreaming’

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tuesdays with tara – volume eighteen

By On August 17, 2010 In music, people, tuesdays with tara With 1 Comment Permanent Link to tuesdays with tara – volume eighteenPermalink

‘tuesdays with tara’ are, well, tuesdays spent reading the most popular extension of this blog, from what is soon to be one of your favorite ‘go-to’ gals. it’s tara. it’s not me. I’m aric. thank you

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It’s late and I’m tired.  I have also put this off until the very last minute.  I am so very ashamed for my behavior and yet, what has come to pass cannot be undone.  I could have blown this off entirely this week, so you’ll just be taking what you’re getting, basically.

Of all the songs I thought about sharing with you, this particular track was the most exciting by far because of what it represents:  a shiny new album by Blonde Redhead.  We haven’t had anything from them since “23″ back in long-ago 2007.  I know I, for one, am terribly excited about this news.  I am also digging this single offering and wondered if you might, too.

Here are five reasons to consider loving Blonde Redhead if you don’t already:

1) They were discovered by Steve Shelley (the drummer for Sonic Youth).

2) Guy Picciotto (of Fugazi) produced three of their albums.

3) The band features identical twins (Amedeo and Simone Pace) who are Italian and not bad on the eyes.

4) They are signed to 4 AD/Beggars Banquet.  That’s just a rock solid label, in my humble opinion.

5) Their lead singer, the beautiful dulcet-toned Japanese hottie, Kazu Makino, was trampled by a horse and lived to tell about it.  She told about it on 2004′s “Misery is a Butterfly”.

If you’re still not convinced that Blonde Redhead kicks serious ass, we can just politely agree to disagree.

Blonde Redhead – ‘Here Sometimes’

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mission l’impossible

By On August 16, 2010 In family, friends, life, music, people, photos, travel With 2 Comments Permanent Link to mission l’impossiblePermalink

we had this one night in Paris

someday I’ll say

and then try to explain everything that went on.

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but it’s not today.

I can’t write that well.

fortunately, my man Nico was taking a few photos.

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none of the 4am bike rides through the quiet streets of Paris

both of us in tears - some for a friend, and some for the bikes.

the most unfortunate accordion player is just a blur

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as was his switching from Edith Piaf to Radiohead without missing a note.

earlier macaroons

and even earlier petanque.

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so you get the pictures.

and can fill in the blanks as you go.

because, well, that’s basically what we’re doing.

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the wall.

By On August 12, 2010 In friends, music, travel With 2 Comments Permanent Link to the wall.Permalink

we went late, at least we though it was.

to the underground storytale that was yesterday’s Paris,

with it’s old walls

and red couches

photos on the wall

of people who probably had no idea someday we’d be sighing at them.

will someone ever see a photo of us on the stinky floor

with the photos behind us,

or were we too late?

I think we were.

they played Count Basie

and we drank things fashionable back then.

I don’t even like Pernod.

but boy, watch them dance

the ones that can

the older black man

with the stubby white woman

he has to duck to get under his own twirl

and her little legs move so thickly

on little feet

but boy, they can move.

we clapped when we were told to

as if someone were watching us from tomorrow.

and the stubby lady kept dancing

I don’t think she gets to much

probably from being stubby

but at least she’s out there

while we watch and drink

dream and clap

all of us were tired

and no one wanted to go home before the stubby lady.

I think she’s probably still there.

next to the photos.

and the stink.

how we wish we could be.

tuesdays with tara – volume seventeen

By On August 3, 2010 In life, music, people, tuesdays with tara With 2 Comments Permanent Link to tuesdays with tara – volume seventeenPermalink

[this isn't me writing. this is a girl named Tara writing. she should have her own pudding flavor and you should like her as your friend.]

Can one think too much?  As one who thinks, I’ve thought about it, naturally.  I have come to the conclusion of, well, sure.  You see, you can think yourself in circles.  You can think yourself into a corner.  You can think yourself out of doing what you ought to be doing instead of thinking.

I was born with an overactive mind.  It never really shuts off.  Needless to say, I am hopeless at meditating.  Give me something to ponder and watch me burn.  Observe the smoke coming out of my ears in cartoon fashion.  Try to stop that process once it’s been put into play.  I dare you.

The upside of all of this thinking is that the brain stays nice and limber.  I rarely get caught with my mental pants down.  I’m all up for answering your questions or giving you my two cents on any number of subjects.  My mind is like a twenty-four hour Laundromat.  It could be three o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday night and there are still things tumbling around in there on spin cycle.

Here’s the rub for me:  I’m not a cool logical aloof kinda’ gal.  My intellect is occasionally shackled by my damned heart.  So not only do I have to think about things all the time, but I have to be feeling them, too.  It often feels like a pretty sucky karmic arrangement, and yet, I have accepted it as my lot in life.  No sense in feeling forlorn about something that’s never going to change.

So it sometimes also comes to pass that I am prevented from speaking my mind because my heart has sprayed some sort of paralyzing fluid all over my brain.  If it sounds dramatic and violent, good, because that’s how it feels.  I sit there clutching my throat and gasping for air because my heart is lodged there and no oxygen can get to my brain.  It’s debilitating and more than a little humiliating.  After all, I don’t wanna’ go sullying my reputation as a straight shooter.

You know what can be a lifeline in such a situation?  A patient person who cares enough about you to not stomp all over your feelings in your delicate predicament.  Yes, those people can be awfully handy at times like those.  Somebody who takes the time to gently coax the words out from the dark place where they have been cowering.  A person like that’s a mighty good thing to have in your corner.  A person like that just could ease your worried mind.

Megafaun – ‘Worried Mind’

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tuesdays with tara – volume sixteen

By On July 27, 2010 In life, music, people, tuesdays with tara With 4 Comments Permanent Link to tuesdays with tara – volume sixteenPermalink

[note: some people think this is me, Aric, writing. it's not. it's Tara. don't think things like that - it'd be an insult to her gift. girl has a way of looking inside herself and seeing all of us. seriously]

An open letter to love:

It’s time we had a talk, quite honestly.  We need to discuss our relationship.  These are words that cause most hearts to seize up with terror, but I think you can handle it.  Someone once said you were kind, though I never quite believed that.  It was also suggested that you were patient.  Well, you might be, but if I am not, where does that leave me when we collide?

I know so many people who are afraid of you; who will do whatever they can to avoid having to deal with you.  I always felt sorry for people like that.  Stay on the sidelines, opt out, watch what other people get themselves into.  Go ahead.  See how much you learn about yourself that way.  How much do you expect to grow in a personal sense if you never put yourself out there in any meaningful way?

So I have always gone running after you.  The very thought of you thrilled me to the point of blind abandon.  I have a rather sharp mind, you know.  It often serves me well, though it sometimes causes more trouble than it ought.  My heart, on the other hand, is a fragile unknowable thing.  The very idea of this heart that I carry within me is enough to give me night sweats.  Thinking about the state of it feels like icy fingers at my throat.  It causes me so much panic when it aches, when it longs.  Its power is beyond my reasoning which is why I am so suspicious of its motives.

Oh, but you know this all too well, don’t you, love?  It’s also been widely suggested that you’re a bitch.  I would be lying if I said I hadn’t agreed with that sentiment in the past.

I’m not trying to give you a hard time, really.  I’ve always been a big fan of you, truth be told.  It’s just that I am the kind of person that calls a spade a spade and well, there are plenty of things about you that bother me.  If we are ever going to have an honest relationship, I think I have to air these out.

First of all, you’re fickle and it makes me crazy.  Seriously.  You have harnessed this power of randomness and you wield it with such little responsibility.  You give and you take away and sometimes, all of this happens before the stupid human has had time to process what the hell has happened.

And you know, I have given this particular trait of yours a lot of thought.  I have come up with a theory that helps me sleep a little better at night.  The idea is that there are as many varieties of love as there are people who will move through it in your lifetime.  There are some people who will occupy a space in your heart and have an affect on your life, but once that work is done, they will move on and leave you to sort through the wreckage.  That’s a life lesson that I think you are responsible for, love, and though I have often shaken an angry fist at you because of it, I wish to now make amends.  I get it now, so thank you.  I regret that there was so much carnage in my wake before I finally did, but what can be done of it now?

What I find most intolerable about you, though, is your grip.  I invite you in.  I admit that.  So why then do you treat me so abrasively?  Why then do you dash me against the rocks?  I come in peace, you know.  I do not want to abuse you.  I only want the benefits of you, same as anyone.  You are so bold and you scramble my brain and make me feel so very helpless.  I don’t do helpless well, thus I have begun to fear you, as I would anyone who put me in such a position.

We’ve had some really good times together, love, so please do not get it in your head that I don’t appreciate what we’ve had.  I also don’t mean to sound ungrateful.  It’s just that romantic as I am, I believe in you too much.  It makes me feel vulnerable.  I don’t do vulnerable well.

So, if I asked you to be patient, if I asked you to be kind, do you think you might consider it?  I’m much wearier than I once was.

Jason Collett – Love Is A Dirty Word

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