Songs For Girls Who Feel Sad Sometimes.

I am listening to a mix that Tyler made for me last semester. I listened to it every day until the semester ended. Now each of the songs remind me of something I would normally be doing while listening to those songs.

1. After Hours - The Velvet Underground
Last semester, when I had an iPod, I would listen to this song on my way to my Sound/Image class. It is the first song on the mix, and the art building is so close to where I lived, that on Thursday at 8:15, I never made it past this song. It was winter and very, very cold. This song sounds chilly to me now.


2. Cut Me Off - Shotgun Jimmie
This song reminds me of walking back from Sound/Image. After class, once I was glad to be rid of chaos and idiocy, I picked up the mix where I left off. Except I don't remember the winter months when hearing this song a year later. I remember when everything began to come back to life.

3. Once... - Dick Morello
In my room, I strung belts and ropes from the ceilings and walls and draped blankets over them surrounding my bed. It was called "The Love Den" because we made love in this fort. Even when we were just drawing or watching The Hills Have Eyes II or planning pranks on my sister Erica, I considered it making love. This song is what I listened to when it was snowing out and it was warm in my fort and I waited for him to come back to me.

4. The Fall - Peter and the Wolf
I associate this song with walking in and out of the darkness of the photo lab. I'd put my headphones on and dip the paper in the developer, the stop, the fixer, and the wash a thousand times over. The song kept me going. It kept me in the labs until I finished my work. And then I would return through the snow and wind to The Love Den.

5. Angel in the Snow - Elliott Smith
The six hour drive between school and home hears this song a hundred times. My father, who usually picked me up before I had a car, became an avid fan of Elliott because of this song and this mix. I miss Tyler when I hear this song, because I think of either leaving him (going home) or how long it's been since I've seen him (returning to school). It's a weird sensation when I listen to this song when I'm with him. It's as if I was dreaming.

6. God - Apollo Sunshine
I remember waiting outside my dorm for his brother to pick me up and take us to our friend's photo exhibit downtown. It was becoming dark and therefore colder. I was singing along to the words and people passed me by and wondered what was wrong with me.

7. Radio Cure - Wilco
Every time I cleaned my room, it was by this song, which is 20 minutes into the mix, that some sort of progress became evident. Upon noticing a slight difference in the condition of the mess, I would become exciting and encouraged to finish. I would race around throwing things in my closet (what I consider clean) and piling my books and papers that littered the floor into an organized mess on my desk. The song picks up in the end, and I would feel the strength of the ending of the song in the strength in the end of cleaning my room.

8. Organ Solo - Neil Young
This song is the turning point; the volta. It is sad. I would cry. I would sit on my bed in the fort alone and cry. Reasons unknown, I would weep for a minute and thirty-three seconds. But by the end, I would pick up my head and wipe my face dry and be happy again. I'm feeling better now, but just for nostalgic purposes, I feel like collapsing on my bed and shedding a tear for old times sake.

9. Baby's Clean Conscience - Modest Mouse
After I cried from the Organ Solo, I would hear this song and be joyful again. I remember running through the hallway of my dorm to my best friend's room and knocking on her door and suggesting that we run outside in the snow. She agreed and we ran through the hallway past my open door where I could still hear the song playing and we flew down the elevators and into the cold.

10. Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Your Grievance - Daniel Johnston
The end! The last song! I remember sitting on my floor with Erica talking about our frustrations and, startled by the change of pace and rather unconventional voice of Daniel, she exclaimed "Who the fuck is this?" I said "Daniel Johnston!". And then we continued our conversation on the floor of my room.




And the mix ends. And 29 minutes later, I still have two midterms tomorrow, 12 prints due on Monday and differences to settle.

And funnily enough, tomorrow (ten minutes) is Tyler's birthday. I made him a mix.

A reflection: I should have been born in Iceland.

I hope that someday I can leave this country. I won't be bitter and angry towards America - I will leave on good terms. Where I am headed is what I consider "back home." Where the sweaters are thick and the food is rotten. Where the snow falls violently and the sun is shy. Where people are quiet and keep to themselves. Where Sigur Ros was conceived and thus the world became slightly better. Where the party never stops or the party never begins. Where the sky is like a ballet of colors and lights and the stars are brighter then anywhere else on earth. Where glaciers slope down to your toes and reach up through the clouds. Where sheep and ponies graze in peace and puffins are eaten like chicken. Where there is only one road. Where waterfalls tumble down from cliffs and thunder through the silent landscape. Where winter is longer then summer.

I'm talking about a little place called...

ICELAND.

Ég von þessi einhvern tíma Ég geta leyfi þetta land. Ég myndað af ekki vera bitur og reiður til Ameríka Ég vilja leyfi á góður skilmálar. Hvar Ég er höfðaður er hvaða Ég íhuga " bak heimili " Hvar peysan ert þykkur og fæðaið er rotinn. Hvar snjórið bylta ofbeldissinnaður og sólinn er feiminn. Hvar fólk ert rólegur og standa við sig. Hvar Sigur Ros var getinn og svona veröldið logndauður smávegis betri. Hvar veislan aldrei stöðva eða veislan aldrei byrja. Hvar himinninn er eins og a ballett af Kölnarvatn og vitaskip og stjarnan ert verða bjartari þá einhvers staðar annars á jörð. Hvar jökull halli dúnn til þinn toes og ná til upp í gegnum skýinn. Hvar kind og rýtingur skeina í friður og lundi ert matmaður eins og kjúklingur. Hvar er eini einn vegur. Hvar foss steypast niður dúnn frá klettaveggur og þruma í gegnum the hljóður landslag. Hvar vetur er langlífi þá sumar.

Myndað af Ég er talmynd óður í a lítill staður gestur...

ÍSLAND.

Books for Sale

เรารักในหลวง

Over the summer, my sister and I went to Thailand for a month an a half. We were exchange students in a high school for three days. We took Thai language, Thai dance, Thai manners, Thai cooking, and Thai prayer classes. We helped on a Dusky Langur conservation project. We went sea kayaking. We met John Cusack at a Thai boxing match. And Gogol Bordello was on our flight home.

พจนานุกรม พจนานุกรม พจนานุกรม พจนานุกรม พจนานุกรมพจนานุกรม พจนานุกรม สวัสดีใช้ทักทายตั้งแต่ตื่นนอนจนถึงเวลาเที่ยง ก๋วยเตี๋ยว หมอ, แพทย์, ผู้ได้รับปริญญาเอก ผู้ที่ได้รับปริญญาเอก,หมอ,รักษา,เจือ,ปลอม บัญชีแพทย์,หมอ,อายุรแพทย์,แพทย์อายุรเวช ความพยายาม,เรื่องร้อยแก้ว,พยายาม พยายาม,ทดสอบ. คำศัพท์ย่อย พจนานุกรม,ปทานุกรม รียงความร้อยแก้ว,ข้อเขียนสั้นๆปกิณกะ,ความพยายาม,การทดลองความพยายาม,เรื่องร้อยแก้ว,พยายามการทดสอบความงดงามความบริสุทธิ์ หรือคุณภาพ ทดสอบ, ตรวจสอบคุณภาพ, ความบริสุทธิ์ ความพยายาม, การทดลอง อย่าสับสนกับ ความเรียง, เรื่องร้อยแก้วผู้ที่รู้ศัพท์มาก คำที่มีความหมายเหมือนกัน
















Ever wonder why Asian people hold up two fingers whenever they are the subject of a photograph? It's not just the peace sign. However, I've been sworn to secrecy. You will have to go to Asia and find out for yourself.



American boxing seems so brutal and senseless after watching Muay Thai. In Thailand, the boxers have a rhythm with the music; they use their whole bodies and they dance with each other and pray. It is spiritual and beautiful.



The ocean is different in Thailand, too. Of course, the water is warmer, but even along the shores, you feel like you are out in the middle of nowhere. I was contained in a cocoon of limestone towers but I felt like I was swallowed by the vastness.



Thai music makes my skin crawl. The instruments are loud, intrusive and sound very odd. If you close your eyes when listening to Thai music, you will really start to realize that you are far from home.



My sister and I and some of the girls in our horrendous school uniforms.



The macaques remind me of my little brother: intelligent, rowdy, adorable, and they always steal your things.



A Thai man pretending to be Rambo. In Thailand, the new Rambo movie is all the rage because it was filmed there. No one else gave a shit about John Rambo, but for Thai people, it is the pinnacle of entertainment.



The men catch the fish, and the women remove them from the nets the next morning and clean them up. This photo was taken in one of the areas that got hit by the tsunami. They are rebuilding slowly.



A Lahu fisherman.



A group of Karen refugee children danced and sang in their schoolhouse in the jungle. Burma didn't want them, so they left. Thailand doesn't want them, so they are hiding out in the jungle. Their parents are either dead or imprisoned, or still in Burma, and the government refuses to acknowledge their existence. They have no families, food, educations, or identities. I've found that children around the world that are homeless and impoverished are more content and at peace with the world then some people I know that grew up in the suburbs. But these Karen children seemed angry and at odds with the world. I can't blame them. They are not just poor, they are unwanted. I don't know which is worse.



Flowers on a boat.



Our cook!



The volume and chaos of a Thai primary school could only be compared to one other experience I've had.



A mosh pit.



Two British filmmakers filming a documentary about the Karen refugees.



I caught that fish.



Squid fishers.



The Gulf of Thailand has an amazing tidal cycle. Twice a day, the sea pulls away from the coast nearly three-quarters of a mile. The ocean floor became a desert. A father and son walk in the sand collecting things.



Buoy-yah!



Thai school girls pretending to be monkeys in a cage.



A vibrant coffee shop outside my friend's temple. We drank iced-coffee and cooled off in the shade. It was lovely.



Three village boys and a community guitar.



The tides again.



A cavern with a light at the bottom.

It was a very neat place. I am looking forward to one day returning.

In retrospect, the world is bigger then I thought.

In a bookstore in Ithaca, there are dead moths in all the window frames and sci-fi novellas in plastic bags nailed to the walls. There are ancient texts of the European History and Bibles older then the white oak tree in my backyard in New Hampshire. The hallways are dark, but the sun shines through windows crowded with cobwebs, dead moths, and bushes. Thousands and thousands and thousands of books line shelves and dust collects in the pages and they remained closed for years and years and years. I never buy anything at the bookstore in Ithaca. I bring my camera and take photos of the windows and the shelves and my sister browsing the books about African pygmy tribes and South American colonization. She is beautiful when she is learning. I wonder what other people in the world are doing at the same moment that I take these photos. Someone in Iceland is drinking coffee. Someone in Peru is learning English. Someone in Thailand is harvesting pineapples. Someone in France is eating croissants in a cafe wearing a black and white striped turtleneck with a black beret and smoking a cigarette. And someone in Ithaca is taking photos of cobwebs and dead moths in window frames.