Red Rain

I stayed home from work today because I'm illin' with a sore throat, cough, and general fatigue. It's no fun, and the weather today's pretty dismal, too.

I'm not giving myself a lot of points for creativity -- rainy day, the word rain in the song title -- but I was nonetheless glad when this song started welling up from within this afternoon:

Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me

I am standing up at the water's edge in my dream
I cannot make a single sound as you scream
It can't be that cold, the ground is still warm to touch
This place is so quiet, sensing that storm

Partly because there is something about Peter Gabriel's voice -- it's haunting, in a good way -- a bit like the redness of the rain in these lyrics -- I'm not sure exactly what it signifies, but it's clearly not pretty, and I dig his ability to surrender to it:

Red rain
Putting the pressure on much harder now
To return again and again
Just let the red rain splash you
Let the rain fall on your skin
I come to you defenses down
With the trust of a child

....because sometimes, surrender is the only dignified move to be made:

Red rain is coming down
Red rain
Red rain is pouring down
Pouring down all over me
And I can't watch any more
No more denial
It's so hard to lay down in all of this
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is pouring down
Red rain is coming down all over me
I see it
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is pouring down
Red rain is coming down all over me
I'm bathing in it
Red rain coming down
Red rain is coming down
Red rain is coming down all over me
I'm begging you
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down
Red rain coming down
Over me in the red red sea
Over me
Over me
Red rain

So I'm going to try to let this sickness wash over me, too...

Too Close

Maybe it's my upcoming vacation, maybe it's the sunshine today, or the run in the woods, or my lengthy sleep last night, but I'm feeling decidedly less seasonally affected today, which is a huge plus.

Still not a lot of music welling up from within me, though, so I was happy to have the radio in my car dial up a good number this afternoon:

And it feels like I am just too close to love you,
There's nothing I can really say.
I can't lie no more, I can't hide no more,
Got to be true to myself.
And it feels like I am just too close to love you,
So I'll be on my way.

The lyrics aren't particularly apropos, in fact, I'm not sure I really even understand them, but I really dig the tune. You?

Nantucket Sleighride

I've been sleeping a lot lately, which is my usual for this time of year, but it doesn't leave me with much  time (or energy) to do the things that help keep me centered, like blogging and yoga.

But, inspired by B.K.S. Iyengar's Light on Yoga this morning (who wouldn't be inspired by pictures of a super flexible Indian dude in nothing but a sumo-wrestler type outfit?), I managed to do some asanas and planned the Tuesday yoga class I teach for this week.

Another factor contributing to the lack of blogs is a very quiet inner jukebox. The way the change of seasons affect me now is, thankfully, so much less severe than it was my general mood was lower, but it still notices (as my British friend was fond of saying even though it probably isn't grammatically correct). Lucky for me, my boyfriend's appears to be alive and well -- or at least, focused on this song -- 'cause this is what he's been singing for days:

Goodbye, little Robin-Marie
Don't try following me
Don't cry, little Robin-Marie
'Cause you know I'm coming home soon

And my personal favorite line, which he has been repeating, as the song does, over and over again:

And I know you're the last true love I'll ever meet
And I know you're the last true love I'll ever meet

For My Lover

It's not completely a done deal, but it's looking like my man is going to stick it out in the Midwest with me, mountains or no mountains, while my primary job on this Earth -- raising my babies -- is still my privilege.

Speaking of privileged, I sure feel that way about having found such a fabulous partner in so many aspects of this life, and I don't take the sacrifice he made to move out here lightly, either. We were joking around the other day, and I was explaining how when my best friend had cancer, her sister said in a moment of anger: "motherhood is my cancer!"

"Wisconsin is your cancer!" I said, and we laughed. And then my internal ipod pulled up this classic from Tracy Chapman about the things that people endure for love:

Two weeks in a Virginia jail
For my lover for my lover
Twenty thousand dollar bail
For my lover for my lover

And everybody thinks
That I'me the fool
But they don't get
Any love from you
The things we won't do for love

I'd climb a mountain if I had to
And risk my life so I could have you
You, you, you...

Everyday I'm psychoanalyzed
For my lover for my lover
They dope me up and I tell them lies
For my lover for my lover

I follow my heart
And leave my head to ponder
Deep in this love
No man can shake

I follow my heart
And leave my mind to wonder
Is this love worth
The sacrifices I make

I know from time to time, his mind is going to wonder the same thing. Good thing his heart never wavers...

Sara(h)

I'm a little late getting this song posted -- just barely getting it up in the same month as the day I'm marking with this particular piece of music -- but I sincerely believe better late than never applies here. This photo captures my boyfriend and I at Fort Wilkins State Park in Copper Harbor -- a haven for sure.

And it went from haven to heaven on this last trip when I turned off the shower at the campground and heard, coming through the walls, my man singing this song from the showers in the men's bathroom next door:

Sara, Sara
Whatever made you want to change your mind
Sara, Sara
So easy to look at, so hard to define.

My big old heart just about melted. Bob's Sara may not have an h, but I still love the fact that he loved a woman named Sara(h) and although my boyfriend mainly sang the chorus, I love Bob's lyrics too much to edit them:

I can still see them playing with their pails in the sand
They run to the water their buckets to fill
I can still see the shells falling out of their hands
As they follow each other back up the hill.

Sara, Sara
Sweet virgin angel, sweet love of my life
Sara, Sara
Radiant jewel, mystical wife.

Sleeping in the woods by a fire in the night
Drinking white rum in a Portugal bar
Them playing leapfrog and hearing about Snow White
You in the marketplace in Savanna-la-Mar.

Sara, Sara
It's all so clear, I could never forget
Sara, Sara
Loving you is the one thing I'll never regret.

I can still hear the sounds of those Methodist bells
I'd taken the cure and had just gotten through
Staying up for day in the Chelsea Hotel
Writing "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands" for you.

Sara, Sara
Wherever we travel we're never apart
Sara, Sara
Beautiful lady, so dear to my heart.
How did I meet you ? I don't know
A messenger sent me in a tropical storm
You were there in the winter, moonlight on the snow
And on Lily Pond Lane when the weather was warm.

Sara, Sara
Scorpio Sphinx in a calico dress
Sara, Sara
You must forgive me my unworthiness.

Now the beach is deserted except for some kelp
And a piece of an old ship that lies on the shore
You always responded when I needed your help
You gimme a map and a key to your door.

Sara, Sara
Glamorous nymph with an arrow and bow
Sara, Sara
Don't ever leave me, don't ever go.

There's not much I feel the need to add to this fine song, except maybe a response to that last line, directed at the cover artist from the showers rather than the poet himself:

Don't worry. Your Sara(h) intends to stay right here, with ready access to your brilliant mind, beautiful body, and enormous heart.

Cream

I thought this sensual number sounded good when it entered my head late last night, but no one sings sensual like Prince:

This is it
It's time for you to go to the wire
You will hit
Cuz you got the burnin' desire
It's your time (Time)
You got the horn so why don't you blow it
You are fine (Fine)
You're filthy cute and baby you know it

Cream
Get on top
Cream
You will cop
Cream
Don't you stop
Cream
Sh-boogie bop

You're so good
Baby there ain't nobody better (Ain't nobody better)
So you should
Never, ever go by the letter (Never ever)
You're so cool (Cool)
Everything you do is success
Make the rules (Rules)
Then break them all coz you are the best

Yes you are

Yes YOU are, Prince. The video linked above is pretty awesome, but this acoustic version is even better -- check it out!

Mandolin Rain

September 23??!? Seriously?! And I haven't marked a single day with music yet this month, or at least, I haven't done so in this blog format? That seems impossible.

Yet here we are. I'll tell you what else seems impossible: that the roller coaster of logistics and emotions involved in combining two very different lives, having very nearly jumped the tracks a few times, now seems to be holding steady.

This morning on the way to the coffee shop, my boyfriend and I heard this song, and although the lyrics don't fit the present situation very well:

The song came and went
Like the times that we spent
Hiding out from the rain
Under the carnival tent

I laughed and she'd smile
It would last for awhile
You don't know what you got
Til you lose it all again

Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Oh, listen to my heart break
Every time she runs away

Oh, listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go

A cool evening dance
Listening to the bluegrass band takes the chill
From the air
Til they play the last song

I'll do my time
Keeping you off my mind but there's moments
That I find
I'm not feeling so strong

Running down by the lake shore
She did love the sound of a summer storm
It played on the lake like a mandolin
Now it's washing her away once again... whoa, again

Boat's steaming in
Ho, I watch the side wheel spin and I
Think about her when
I hear that whistle blow

But, I can't change my mind
Oh, I knew all the time that she'd go
But that's a choice I made long ago...

Hearing it confronted me with something else that seems impossible: that the 16-year old girl who loved this song but felt so conflicted about love and men and sex and marriage could finally have found herself in a relationship that just feels like home, in the best sense of the word...