Saturday, October 15, 2011

memory and transformation

Last night I had this profound flash back while listening to music and trying to study. Recently at my first trip to Amoeba Records (I know I have lived here way to long for this to be my first foray into this music mecca) I found two out of print records by Michael Been's band The Call. I remember mentioning to my Dad a few months ago about The Call and Michael because we were talking about BRMC. He said that the names were sounding similar but he couldn't recall off hand the band. Given my Dad's connections and history there is a possible that he and Michael crossed paths. What you also need to know for this story is that my Dad worked in multimedia production for most of life and that he paired music with the video or photographic slideshows he created. Growing up in the back of my childhood memories sit songs that he used for productions...music that I don't remember hearing outside of my Dad's studio. So back to last night, I'm sitting at my desk reading articles on my computer when a song of the Call's comes on shuffle...it startled me into paying attention to the music. It was "What's Happened to You". I couldn't visualize how I knew the song only that every fiber in my being knew it and knew that it was linked to my Dad. As my mind has mulled it over and over again as to why and how this is connected I realized that it might be the song he used for a Easter service at some large church in Portland, OR where I was raise, that featured video of my mom dancing. It seems like something that she would have created an incredible liturgical dance to...having the lovely cadence and rhythm that seems like Godspell or gospel chorus toned down a bit. An eighties version of Mumford and Sons' "Awake My Soul" that beautiful call to remember the transformation of life and restoration of the soul.

It's so funny I read those words and am hit in the face by my damned hopeful heart...all evening I have been wrestling again with doubt and faith, questioning my life and feeling so crushed by the weight of desire and fear. Yet even in that my words and thoughts are brought back to things that affect me, art that impacts me...my little mustard seed of hope and heart of care that wants so badly for all those I love and care about to experience the freedom, love, joy and faith that I find so impossible to hold for longer than ephemeral spaces. That which I want to systematically run from and find in the arms of a lover and the creation of quality art. These battles I have which I believe others are capable of escaping...yet I am not? Maybe that's the memory, the point in my connection to the Call song...that while I can't see clearly I am still being changed, molded and shaped into something more. The scared and chaotic girl paralyzed and rot with insecurity is becoming a strong and bold woman who finds her space and lives wildly into that unfettered by the demonic voices of depression and failure.

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