This morning I was blessed by sweet angels with pretty bells on their shoes. Trombone went out to gymnastics with my mom and I was left with a baby who napped all morning.
I know. What?
I sorted my sock drawer. I dug out a bunch of stuff from under my bed. I swept the kitchen floor, several times. (not because I was bored; because it was that dirty) I turned on the CBC and lo and behold, it was Jian Gomeshi’s show “Q,” where apparently I missed an interview with (the) DAN HILL yesterday, drat and damnation.
(Incidentally, I have heard “Sometimes When We Touch” no fewer than 10 times in the past two weeks. Grocery stores, hold music, random pre-set button stabbing in the car; it’s everywhere! That’s why I had to put that quotation up on the left sidebar, there. You didn’t even notice, did you? That I claim to be “…just another writer / still trapped within my truth…”? But now you’re humming, right? Now it’s stuck in YOUR head too! Haha!)
Half listening, as you do, I wandered about, sorting, recycling, eyeing the baby monitor nervously because surely at any moment that baby would wake. (but he didn’t! I know! What? King of 45 minute naps relinquishes crown after only 6 month fight?) And then I heard the most arresting, astonishing musician: Antony and the Johnsons. I heard part of a song called “For Today I am a Buoy.” And then the song below, “Another World.” I am not sure whether I love the music enough to become a full-blooded fan, to be honest. But I was amazed by it. And to be amazed by music, to be stopped in my tracks by a voice, is such a gift.