That man drives me to Radiohead, among other things

I am going to try very hard to make this entry about my art.

Not really.

I haven't listened to Radiohead since 11th grade. I made this decision after I listened to one of their songs and then promptly failed my calculus test. Consequently, I made the totally logical association that Radiohead is evil (my test failure being totally unrelated to my complete ineptitude for all things math).Well dear reader(s?) I am listening to Radiohead, even as I write this. And I am finding I much prefer to keep my levels of angstiness to things The Cure and Sufjan can handle. Oh, but, and how, I've missed those forever-long Radiohead guitar solos!

Don't worry this is just a stage.

And now for much, much worthier art. I am currently reading Living by Fiction by Annie Dillard.

CONCLUSION: Annie. Dillard. is. BOMB.

If you haven't read anything by her, please do. Your life will change. Her syntax makes me weepy it's so beautiful.

And in order to end this blog post in a somewhat rhetorical manner I finish with the genius of Annie + a callback to Radiohead/guitars + a shout-out to art that makes life much easier to handle aesthetically.

"The mind is a blue guitar on which we improvise the song of the world." - Annie Dillard

Oh.

Yes.

And then the sun went down, and we all lived happily ever after?

I feel like Matthew Arnold's poetry (and not Arnold's prose which is unfortunate because his prose is much more clever and in TOTAL control. Seriously, if I felt like his prose I'd be a beast in all the good ways).

Sometimes I am bit wearied by irony, and so in a less beautiful and slightly less melodramatic way I say this.

Don't you think some more answers would be nice? Or how about a good old fashioned conclusion?

Then their day was done, the sun went down, and they fell asleep with the promise of a lovely morning filled with sunshine, a good breakfast, and lots of love & fun.

Ambiguity is not always nice.


The End.

I am feeling very lovestruck...

When I read Neruda's poems I cry.

When I read Keats' poems I cry.

When I read Hopkins' poems I cry.

I think I am love with angsty and emotionally taxing love. Awesome.

Also, I am working on an "artsy/creative love reflection piece" for this awesome girlie. So I am reflecting on love a lot. Not that I didn't reflect on love before. I am just being more creatively focused on L.O.V.E.

Hopefully.