graves, dinosaurs, ella on the cliffs
i am out here on a pillow on the grass in our big field with all kinds of birds singing to me. baby birds, teenage birds, birds that have done almost everything they were designed to do, and later today might fall down solid. i guess they don’t turn blue, too many feathers.
i listened to a friend on the radio the other day talking about how he was into dinosaurs and their feathers even as a little kid, and as he talked i thought “well, you’re pretty much the dream man.” his scientific desires and imagination fill his body with energy and propel him off the edge of jetties on bikes specifically altered to make their motion the most possible fun. it’s not flying, but it’s for the same reasons as flying, that is, doing what your body tells you to do.
the other night i went walking with a friend around the bleak nighttime version of claremont. he pushed me in a trolley and tipped me out by accident just as my mouth was readying to form the words “imagine if you accidentally tipped me out.” for the next hour i had a nice reminder on my hands, little red rough hot patches that i could feel glowing, reminding me “you just had a really nice time.” i told him about the time i brought a cake up to my friend who was djing at the claremont hotel, a shaped like a cloud and a very big knife.
a few days before this i’d been driving in the car to the show with my friend, his eyes welling with tears and him looking like he wanted to tear his own face off. i said the words i’d been thinking during the day “why do we do this to ourselves?!” us shy people, putting ourselves on a public stage and singing deep things from our hearts to people who may or may not be saying to themselves “what even is this?!” but in the end we were surrounded by love and the djs made soft serves for everyone in between songs – i guess like things might be after death, just love, softness, good soundtrack, seeing friends from all the years back.
julie said “let’s have a photo, with all the old crew”, insisting on something that might have made some people feel left out, but she was completely right, sometimes you need to mark a phase and take a special bit of care only about yourself, or only about a little group of special ones, or make a grave for a bird even if someone calls you a h i p s t e r.
and today we’re going to go recording. there’s an upstairs room that aden has prepared and i have sent feelings to and nick has dreamed about, and maybe that all sounds like a dream – it’s even by the sea, but the main purpose is to make a thing of beauty for a few people to accompany them at night in headphones driving on a bus to somewhere they’re afraid to go, making them feel at peace, or to accompany ella as she sits back on the cliffs of her homelands filling herself back up with good necessary things, i guess like a bird. people talk about being able to fly and how great it would be, but i’m just happy to walk, or occasionally be pushed round in a trolley… how bout you?