Hey Steve,
Yeah god Damien Rice is so frickin amazing...it just feels like, for me, he got the emotions all right. I first listened to him in Cargo and James Teahouse in Edmonton on their open mic night. This guy went up there to sing "Cannonball" and at the end of the song he added his own lyrics and proposed to his girlfriend. It was such a magical moment, his girlfriend at the back of the room burst into tears...
About two weeks after I travelled to Vancouver and met a man named Maxime. He had just arrived in Vancouver from France a day before I did and we ended up in the same hostel room. The first time I saw him he was lying face down on the bed sleeping in mid-afternoon. I couldn't see his face, but I instantaneously felt a sense of intimidation, somehow I knew that I would be attracted to him. I remember the actual moment my heart opened up. I was sitting on the floor reading his palm and up to this point I had no feelings for him. When I looked up from his hands he was gazing at me very intently. It was so wierd, I could feel his eyes look straight past mine and into me and I felt this physical reaction in my heart, I felt it turning and shifting. After that there was a sense of complete understanding. We spent a week more or less together everyday, laughing and exploring. Sitting over coffee and catching up on each other's lives (that's what it seemed we were doing, catching up). Man, it was such magical times, especially after the rough year I had had. It was the first time in a long time I completley let go.
It was shortly after I met Maxime that I bought Damien Rice's album "O". When I wasn't with him, I felt this great depression sweep over me. I knew that the time, the 2 short weeks I would spend on the coast would pass, and thinking about it destroyed me. The music gave me relief; it allowed me to feel those sweeping emotions and let them flow through me.
I feel as though being in Vancouver for the past 6 months was a large part about the magic I felt with him, and in reflection the magic of the landscape of the beautiful city, and also the Island, where I also spent a few days a year ago. Those were such painful times, tragic yes, I felt like I was living in a Wong Kar-Wai movie. But also like his movies, there was this palpable underlying emotion of hope, and the belief that I would fall in love once again.
It's funny that you've just discovered Damien Rice, as I have been listening to him non-stop for the last week (I started the night before I left for Edmonton). I hadn't listened to him since the beginning of my stay in Van. But now it has come back again, full circle it seems. Perhaps this time around I am finally letting him go; I am letting a part of myself go. Despite all the beauty I saw in Maxime, I know he was a tortured man, full of self-hatred and sarcastic bitterness (very very french). He said above all things he hated pigeons, Australians and fat people. He always said it in a joking fashion of course, but the hint of truth was always there. Perhaps this random collection of hated things reflected his chaotic and confused perspective on the world. Maxime was once my mirror, a man who presented me to myself - now that I have laid him to rest in my past, I feel that I can finally let my own chaos and confusion go.
QC
Yeah god Damien Rice is so frickin amazing...it just feels like, for me, he got the emotions all right. I first listened to him in Cargo and James Teahouse in Edmonton on their open mic night. This guy went up there to sing "Cannonball" and at the end of the song he added his own lyrics and proposed to his girlfriend. It was such a magical moment, his girlfriend at the back of the room burst into tears...
About two weeks after I travelled to Vancouver and met a man named Maxime. He had just arrived in Vancouver from France a day before I did and we ended up in the same hostel room. The first time I saw him he was lying face down on the bed sleeping in mid-afternoon. I couldn't see his face, but I instantaneously felt a sense of intimidation, somehow I knew that I would be attracted to him. I remember the actual moment my heart opened up. I was sitting on the floor reading his palm and up to this point I had no feelings for him. When I looked up from his hands he was gazing at me very intently. It was so wierd, I could feel his eyes look straight past mine and into me and I felt this physical reaction in my heart, I felt it turning and shifting. After that there was a sense of complete understanding. We spent a week more or less together everyday, laughing and exploring. Sitting over coffee and catching up on each other's lives (that's what it seemed we were doing, catching up). Man, it was such magical times, especially after the rough year I had had. It was the first time in a long time I completley let go.
It was shortly after I met Maxime that I bought Damien Rice's album "O". When I wasn't with him, I felt this great depression sweep over me. I knew that the time, the 2 short weeks I would spend on the coast would pass, and thinking about it destroyed me. The music gave me relief; it allowed me to feel those sweeping emotions and let them flow through me.
I feel as though being in Vancouver for the past 6 months was a large part about the magic I felt with him, and in reflection the magic of the landscape of the beautiful city, and also the Island, where I also spent a few days a year ago. Those were such painful times, tragic yes, I felt like I was living in a Wong Kar-Wai movie. But also like his movies, there was this palpable underlying emotion of hope, and the belief that I would fall in love once again.
It's funny that you've just discovered Damien Rice, as I have been listening to him non-stop for the last week (I started the night before I left for Edmonton). I hadn't listened to him since the beginning of my stay in Van. But now it has come back again, full circle it seems. Perhaps this time around I am finally letting him go; I am letting a part of myself go. Despite all the beauty I saw in Maxime, I know he was a tortured man, full of self-hatred and sarcastic bitterness (very very french). He said above all things he hated pigeons, Australians and fat people. He always said it in a joking fashion of course, but the hint of truth was always there. Perhaps this random collection of hated things reflected his chaotic and confused perspective on the world. Maxime was once my mirror, a man who presented me to myself - now that I have laid him to rest in my past, I feel that I can finally let my own chaos and confusion go.
QC
posted by QC at 10:02 PM
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