"I worship the winter.
I am, and almost always have been, infatuated with the freezing purity and stillness of it. Walking from my singing instructor’s house last Saturday, the first Minnesota flurry had begun to fall. I skittered to the car, complaining initially, but feeling a small rush that the silent season had arrived.
We drove through the art district of Minneapolis, which added to the snow rekindled my love for the City of Water. College students scurried about with their organic coffees and indie brand book bags. I look forward to the years when I can both live that peacefully and, by night, party that hard. The art district, full of theaters and small-businesses outlined by the Arizona Theater by south and Electric Fetus, was outlined by white that brought alive the smattering of color and chrome. The red light district, harboring Dream girls and Sex World, flashed it’s bright lights even in broad daylight to remind the residents of the sin that was offered at nightfall.
Even sitting here, laptop in hand and internet less along the north shore of Lake Superior, with melted snow and mild weather, am I content to know the death and birth season is waiting to have it’s way with Minnesota. The state itself is a woman of contradictions. The rain here could last for minutes or for days, usually in the late spring and throughout the summers. Summer and winter are two warring seasons, polar opposites of humid and hot to dry and cold. Autumn is my favorite season because of the smell of wood in the air and fires held in family back yards. Despite this, winter will always have a large section of my heart. If Autumn is my husband, Winter is my affair.
The light in winter is always perfect. Nights are the brightest they’ll ever be and days are a comfortable grey. Nothing like summer, with it’s dark midnight hours and blinding sunlight. I could never leave this state. I may wander through other lovers; the theatrical promises of New York City, the wind of Chicago, even the harbors of Maine might attract my attention. I’ve always wanted to have some kind of show in London or Leeds. Vienna, Austria, is the music capitol of the world and I’ll be damned if I don’t visit it. However I stray, though, my home and heart will always remain here, in the northlands of Minnesota."
/attempt at poetic drabble I wrote over a week ago.
I cringed walking around the grocery store today once I detected Christmas music. I know I won't mind it the week of the commercialized holiday, but it's still too damn early. Especially for Rocking Around the Christmas Tree. I can't tell you how much I hate that song.
In other news, I've become disillusioned with Rolling Stone. It's an alright magazine for informative purposes, but their lists drive me up a wall.
We get the fact that you think the Beatles are the greatest band to ever walk the face of our planet, yes, but they shouldn't populate almost the entire top ten albums. It's so blatant that the lists are made by people of a certain generation it almost discussed me. I talked to Zoya about this for awhile after I first discovered the lists and she put it best.
My personal lists, because they're personal, are pretty biased but I'm not publishing them as representation of a general idea. I'm attempting to stop being so cynical about it.
This post is probably going to give people the idea I hate the Beatles. Which is very far from the truth, I just get sick of people worshiping them.
In other news, the music business is trying to suck money from me that I don't have. The Asteroids Galaxy Tour is coming to Minneapolis in February, followed by Roger Waters returning with The Wall in June and very hopefully the Who at some point.
Why yes, mother, of course I'll do the dusting.
