Monthly Residency: Dawn Golden and Rosy Cross (Week 4)
It’s 11:19pm on Wednesday and I’m sitting in my bedroom and I’m listening to that Eluvium record ‘Talk Amongst The Trees‘ and it’s one of my favorite things in this world. I’ve listened to this record well over a hundred times, which doesn’t seem like that much but it is, and it still hasn’t gotten old because it’s still confusing and pretty and unpredictable to me. That’s the case for most things in my life that I keep close. I strive to understand things completely, but always regret when I do because they are no longer pretty. Everything actually just works like a wristwatch and there’s really nothing special to anything unless you leave it alone and watch it be what it is as a whole.
When I was younger, I used to write these letters. I would write to different people I’d made up in my head about different things I had also made up and they’re mostly sad, but some of them were nice. I used to have a hard time knowing what was real life and what wasn’t, and now I feel sorry for myself back then and it’s a strange feeling that I usually only feel around this time of year. I’m going to share one of the letters because I don’t have anything interesting to talk about and because it’s getting late and my room is getting cold and I want to try out this new blanket I got today.
I stole from you. I stole your bobby pins and an old stamp while you were sleeping. I stole a red button from your box. They sit in a pile in my room and they are slowly burying me. Last year I stole an old red piece of string from a bracelet you made and it hangs here limply around my lamp next to my dinner reservations. Things I will save to bury in the garden we plant. Things that will mature in the warm soil. Things that will lay waste to our distance. Things that will lay love to your rough parts and smooth my grating voice. I promise you I won’t steal any more. I promise you I won’t lose your things. You are singing with choirs of tired angels and broken cars humming in my head.
For now, I will live like a brave man. I will live like a long lost love. I will pull my ships from the sea and put them in bottles full of dirt and earth. I will sleep lightly and with purpose. I will touch my arm gently sometimes and pretend it’s you. I will sleep on my side and listen for your breath at my back. I will meet you out there where the cars gently crest the tops of hills and the stars are sparks falling from the sky. Where our bodies will hum steadily next to one another and become dust, I will miss you.”
This is my last post, as my residency is coming to an end, and in retrospect I probably should have written more about music or tried suggesting songs that people would like, but I don’t really feel like it because I talk about music way too much as it is and I wanted to use this space for something more personal I guess.
Thanks to everyone who has been keeping up. I appreciate the opportunity to have shared a piece of myself here and hope others will do the same.
If you would like to keep up to date with my music, I will have two albums coming out early in 2013 and will be doing my best to update the plethora of social media I am expected to utilize on a semi regular basis to get news and feelings out into the world.
Dexter Miles Tortoriello