Hold me fast 'cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

Hopeless Wanderer
Mumford and Sons

Hear my voice
I came out of the woods by choice
The shelter also gave us shade
And in the dark I have no name

So leave that click in my head
And I will remember the words that you said
Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart
But I am sure we will see a new start

So when your hope's on fire
But you know your desire
Don't hold a glass over the flame
Don't let your heart grow cold
I will call you by name
I will share your road

Wrestle long with my youth
We try so hard to live in the truth
But do not sell me your respite
When I lose my head I lose my spine

So leave that click in my head
And I must remember the words that you said
You brought me out from the cold
Now how I long, how I long to grow old

So when your hope's on fire
But you know your desire
Don't hold a glass over the flame
Don't let your heart grow cold
I will call you by name
I will share your road

Hold me fast
Hold me fast
'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

Hold me fast
Hold me fast
'Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer

And I will learn
I will learn
To love the the skies I wander

I will learn
I will learn
To love the skies I wander
The skies I wander


Thanks to Alaina over at Live Creating Yourself I have discovered that Mumford and Sons has been playing some of the new stuff off of their next album at their live shows. I am now totally obsessed with this song. I love Mumford and Sons and am super stoked for their next album to come out. This song has captivated me. I've probably listened to it a good 20 times in the last 24 hours. And that's with a full workday, time at the gym and a coffee date with a friend in there. This is everything that I love about Mumford and Sons. The instruments, the vocals (oh the vocals! I am literally temporarily paralyzed whenever they break into harmony.), the incredible lyrics. It is so so so good. Seriously. Take a listen. You won't regret it.

The Places We Have Lived

Phantom Limbs
Anne Michaels

                "The face of the city changes more quickly, alas! than the mortal
                heart."
                                                     - CHARLES BAUDELAIRE

So much of the city
is our bodies. Places in us
old light still slants through to.
Places that no longer exist but are full of feeling,
like phantom limbs.

Even the city carries ruins in its heart.
Longs to be touched in places
only it remembers.

Through the yellow hooves
of the ginkgo, parchment light;
in that apartment where I first
touched your shoulders under your sweater,
that October afternoon you left keys
in the fridge, milk on the table.
The yard - our moonlight motel -
where we slept summer's hottest nights,
on grass so cold it felt wet.
Behind us, freight trains crossed the city,
a steel banner, a noisy wall.
Now the hollow diad
floats behind glass
in office towers also haunted
by our voices.

Few buildings, few lives
are built so well
even their ruins are beautiful.
But we loved the abandoned distillery:
stone floors cracking under empty vats,
wooden floors half rotted into dirt,
stairs leading nowhere, high rooms
run through with swords of dusty light.
A place the rain still loved, its silver paint
on rusted things that had stopped moving it seemed, for us.
Closed rooms open only to weather,
pungent with soot and molasses,
scent-stung. A place
where everything too big to take apart
had been left behind.


I'm moving across the country in three weeks. This is both exciting and terrifying. I'm excited because I'm headed to a province I dearly love and find exceptionally beautiful. I'm terrified because I am moving somewhere that I know no one and am leaving behind the people who are dearest to me in the world.

It's funny how places retain the people who inhabit them. How a location can bring back a flood of memories. How going somewhere can make you remember someone who is long gone or who you haven't thought about in a long time. We leave impressions on places it seems; sometimes they are visible and sometimes they are invisible. We literally leave our mark on places with buildings and possessions, the kinds of things that archeologist uncover, but we leave a less tangible mark on a place. And a place leaves a mark on us. It's such a strange thing to ponder, but it's something I think about often, and all the more often as I wrench myself out of the place I grew up in.

Kinfolk

Last Friday, Kinfolk Magazine, a new online and print magazine that is focused on the art of entertaining in small gatherings, launched it's inaugural issue, and it is safe to say that I am completely head over heels for it. What a beautifully constructed collection of photographs, articles, and videos. Beautiful simplicity reigns supreme throughout the publication from the physical layout of the magazine - articles in a gorgeous typeface and surrounded by enough white space to make me blissfully happy - to the gatherings described and depicted. In fact, their manifesto states that "Every element of Kinfolk – the features, photography, and general aesthetics – are consistent with the way we feel entertaining should be: simple, uncomplicated, and less contrived." The publication certainly lives up to this standard. What's more, the creative minds behind this publication are just that: creative minds. Kinfolk is written, photographed, compiled, edited, etc. by an international community of artists, and this creative energy saturates every element of the magazine. It is more than simply visually pleasing; it is enchanting and enticing, drawing readers in not with flashy layouts or brilliant colours but with restful, calming palettes that I could gaze at all day long. Extolling the virtues of small gatherings - beginning with time spent alone - Kinfolk has arrived at what is a rather appropriate time in my life. As I get older I am constantly struck by the importance of spending time with your dearest friends and have gradually come to recognize that perhaps this is not always a large group, but that a small group can be all the more enjoyable.  What's more, I'm at a point in life where friends are beginning to scatter far and wide as we graduate, get married, or move across the country and the importance of gatherings is becoming increasingly apparent, particularly the importance of simple gatherings where the focus is on the companionship and not the event. The idea of seeing time alone as an event is also beautiful and interesting as I begin to value my personal space and time more and more. Finally, I've consistently been learning the beauty and importance of simplicity in my life - whether it is in clothing or decor or taking joy in small things - and this is something captured and praised by Kinfolk. I am not sure that there is any other publication that could capture all of these things in such a beautiful package. If you haven't yet, go and check out the online edition. It's a must-read in my books.

Little Obsessions

I'm one of those people that kind of becomes obsessed with things. When I find a song I love, I play it over and over and over. When I find a food I enjoy, I eat it way more often than I should. When I find a book I love, I will often read it twice in a row. When I am enchanted by a film, I'll watch it more than once in a two week span. It's just how I roll. I think this is okay though as long as whatever I'm obsessed with isn't injurious to my person. It's all part of my commitment to surrounding myself with beauty. I find these small things that make me happy, so why not spread them throughout my life liberally. So, despite the fact that last week was a bizarre roller coaster of emotions, here are a few of my newest little obsessions.

1. Taking the book jackets off of hard covers. I always used to hate buying books in hard cover. Most of this had to do with the dust jacket, which would never stay put while I was reading. Well, I've bought a few different hard cover books this summer and have discovered that if I take the dust jacket off there is a beautiful book waiting underneath (like the one pictured above). I suddenly love hard cover books. They are simple and elegant and make me feel fancy.
2. Hummus on sandwiches. I pretty much can't eat any condiments, nor can I have cheese, and this makes sandwiches pretty much the most boring food around. (With the exception of fried egg sandwiches, which are another one of my obsessions, although much less recent). I love hummus though, and so recently my mother and I decided that it would make an excellent addition to my sandwiches. Let me tell you, it is so delicious that I actually crave sandwiches now.
3. Bio-pic kinds of films. I've been deep in these kinds of films lately. I've always enjoyed them, it's just that I've been watching them all the time lately. Here's a few I would especially recommend: The Young Victoria, Coco Avant Chanel, Julie & Julia, Sylvia, Bright Star, Eat Pray Love. If anyone has any other recommendations, please send them my way.
4. Online magazines. Seriously in love with Matchbook and Kinfolk. So much inspiration for life is found on these (digital) pages.

Does anybody else ever find themselves obsessing over things? What are some things that have been making you happy lately?

What Language Can't Reach

What Language Can't Reach
Patrick Lane

And the only way I know how to do that is to stand far off
as if on a low hill under a moon
watching a passenger train stopped
at a siding in the distance of a prairie night in winter.
In the snow and watching. That far away. That sure.


Sometimes things happen in life that leave you feeling ways that just can't be explained. No chance. Don't even try. Sometimes these already rather inexplicable events collide and suddenly you are left speechless. That has been my last few days. So the silence on here was simply a reflection of my general inability to really capture everything. This will have to do. And I think it does just beautifully.

Letters from...

A little over a year ago I watched The Young Victoria for the first time and fell in love with the film. I just watched it again last night and couldn't help but be struck by the romance of letter-writing. Because Victoria and Albert were living in two different countries during what I suppose would be considered their courtship, and they lived well before the age of email, facebook, and texting, they kept up their correspondence through letters. The film does a beautiful job of capturing the anticipation and joy of letters. Waiting for the envelope containing news and greetings, running to check the mail, snatching ones with your name on the front in a familiar script...it's all just so delightful.

I adore getting and sending snail mail. I know that it is probably the least efficient means of communication in this day and age. I realize that by the time whoever I am writing to actually reading the letter it is probably old news. But regardless of this there is nothing like getting a letter or card in the mail. Knowing that the person took the time to sit down and craft a note, or a novel-length epistle, to you adds a whole new layer of meaning to a letter that simply doesn't exist with email or facebook. Writing a letter requires a prolonged consideration of the other person. You can fire off an email in less than half an hour, even if it's long, but a letter takes time. You have to select paper and pen. You have to carefully arrange and phrase your anecdotes and thoughts. And then, after you have taken the time to actually write the letter, you have to remember to take it with you and find a mail box and actually send it.

There really isn't anything like a good hand-written letter.

The Search for Safety

This weekend I had the great good fortune to go to my friends' wedding. It was an absolutely lovely day, ending in a very late hour and a half drive home. I've told you all before how being in a moving vehicle makes me feel rather safe. Well, this was just driven home on Saturday night. Life has been stressful lately. Apartment hunting, everything involved in preparing to move across the country, working two part-time jobs, and trying to maintain a social life has left me feeling like I'm one of those circus performers spinning plates. This isn't to say life hasn't been good. I'm lucky enough to really enjoy my jobs, I have some wonderful friends with whom I've had some grand adventures, and in general have been loving my summer. However, I've been stressed, and worried, and constantly on the verge of tears, especially lately. But for almost all of Saturday I was able to forget about all of that and just enjoy myself. And then about halfway home I realized this. I realized that sitting in the back seat, in the midst of conversations with my travelling companions, I felt totally safe. As if as long as I stayed in the vehicle with these people and we kept driving I had the chance of outrunning my worries. And in that moment I thought to myself, "Don't ever forget this feeling." Because really, that is what I am always looking for. I am constantly searching for people I feel safe with and people who I feel care for me. It was a rare moment for me to feel that way, and to be quite honest I didn't want the drive to end. I didn't want to have to climb out of the car and back into reality. But, alas, all such drives must come to an end. Since then though, whenever I start panicking too much, I try to recall that feeling. It's peaceful and calming, and is helping me cope just a little bit better. So, thank you to my Saturday travelling buddies. I don't think you know how much that trip meant to me. And congratulations to my newly married friends. I am so happy for you both.