Posts tagged " music "

On Death of our History

April 21st, 2016 Posted by Tabula Rasa No Comment yet

Music defines our lives, songs that we’ve grown up to, those that we grew old to, playlists that we hear over and over in our minds, our cars, our homes. Every one has a story, a memory, a feeling. I remember my teenage bedroom, walls covered with magazine page cutouts of an array of embarrassing 80s bands, pretty-boys, girl groups, but that collage that was also dotted with rockstar personalities like Cyndi Lauper, Bruce Springsteen, and the eternal Prince. The sillies I parted with, the rockstars are with me today.

Purple Rain. Before I could even fathom what the lyrics or the movie were about, I knew them off by heart. I remember slow dancing to the song at a middle school dance. I can’t remember who the boy was, but I remember the lights, the fuzzy sound of the auditorium speakers, the magic that I felt. The song is still on my iPod, on a mix CD in my car, the original CD cover was one of the few I kept in what is now a tiny collection in a drawer.

As we age, it’s inevitable that we lose our idols, our heroes, our gods, but it nevertheless makes us feel all the more mortal. They leave us with a lifetime of music, of copying their dance moves, imitating their voices, their wardrobes, their hair, but once they’re gone, it always feels like a part of us will no longer live on. The next time I hear “When Doves Cry,” I will not break out in dance. “Purple Rain” will make me cry. It’s like my history has been changed.

This year has been brutal on the entertainment industry, overall. But this loss has me yearning to cry in a puddle of purple mud.

Rest in peace my beautiful piece of history.

On Roadtrips

February 27th, 2016 Posted by Tabula Rasa No Comment yet

Road trips always relaxed me. The sight of the road disappearing under the car, the long stretch ahead. Towns, villages flashing by like mini movies with an unwritten script, trees, meadows, factories, truck rest-stops. People in other cars, I wonder where they’re going, sometimes you see a bike roped to the truck left ajar, kids fighting in the back seat, maybe they’re on their way to their grandparents.

Us, we’re just driving to clear our heads, to be together alone. In the beginning we make small talk, how are you, how’s your partner, your mom, your dog, work and kids. Then we sit in silence, it’s deafening at first, like a forgotten noise, it grows louder and louder until it suddenly disappears, becomes a comfortable silence, and we’re ready. The CD player smoothly swallows our old disc, the playlist starts playing, one of us turns up the volume, we roll down our the windows, and we begin to sing. Each has her favorite song, her favorite lyrics, sometimes we’re not sure what they are, so we improvise. I scream loudest to “Chasing Cars,” my friend to “Crash into Me,” and the other to “Wisemen.”

We reach our destination with hair dos of bad 1980s punk rockers or three women that have stuck wet fingers in sockets, but our cheeks are rosy, we’re high on the abundant countryside oxygen and singing has worked it marvel of stress release.

We used to take these road trips whenever we wanted, never really appreciating them because it’s hard to appreciate what you easily have. Now they happen once or twice a year, and feel like the most precious gift anyone has ever given us. Simple. Real. Free.

Pieces: a novel

“Pieces” is the winner of the silver medal at the 2017 Independent Publishers Awards (IPPY), and a finalist at the USA Best Book Awards and International Book Awards.

When Clouds Embrace: a children's book

All proceeds from the sales of "When Clouds Embrace" will go to Giving for Greece, a foundation that works to help the hundreds of unaccompanied refugee minors in Greece.