Laura calls on Sophia, the Hellenic goddess of wisdom, in the first single of her new album, A Creature I Don't Know. The recorded version is fabulous, but I've always been fond of the simplistic beauty produced by the duo of her unique, soothing voice and her acoustic.
It seemed like the perfect Thursday to switch my folky Simon & Patrick back from open G to standard tuning. I guess it's been a while because normal chords didn't come back to me quite as smoothly as I would have hoped. Being able to play this one again - though, admittedly, not nearly as beautifully as Chelsea does - made my day. Here's Chelsea Williams covering Damien Rice's Cannonball. A gorgeous rendition of one of my favorite songs.
There's still a little bit of your ghost, your witness.
There's still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed.
Astrophysicist Dr. Neil DeGrasse Tyson shares what he finds to be the most astounding fact about the universe.
"...when I look up at the night sky and I know that, yes, we are part of this universe, we are in this universe; but, perhaps, more important than both of those facts is that the universe is in us. When I reflect on that fact, I look up - many people feel small because they're small and the universe is big - but I feel big because my atoms came from those stars..."
It fills my lungs. With each gurgling breath, the water nudges me closer to the reaper's unforgiving embrace. The threat of nonexistence instills insurmountable fear, yet I do nothing to fight it.
I imagine a lifeboat floating my way. It would surely have a light if it were to travel through this thick, vast blackness. The light would flicker off the tips of the mulling waves, reach my eyes, and silently whisper, "You're safe."
My numb body and hopeless eyes strain to catch a glimpse of he who operates the boat. It has to be a he; I've never sacrificed enough for a she to owe me a rescue from such an ominous, dark sea. Choking on that which keeps me afloat, I draw in a water-ridden breath and sputter, "Who's there?"
No answer.
It feels good to relax, but with each tense muscle eased the sea pulls my toes down to the deep. I've always loved the water. I guess it's only fitting that this crime of passion be committed by something so near to my person.
He’s close. The light shines through my eyes and illuminates what little yearning I have to stay afloat. Perhaps the security of the boat will be enough to keep my intrigue with dim waters at bay. Or perhaps I only desire my hand to be held as I am lowered.
I feel the reaper’s piercing stare, yet I am complacent. Am I confused or just sick, twisted, and masochistic?
No answer.
Both ores at rest, the boat stalls. The ripples in the water beckon my chin to rise. The boat tilts as he leans over the edge. The silence dissipates as his warm breath utters my name. He willingly offers his hand. I could be safe.
Laura's new album, A Creature I Don't Know, took only 3 months to write and a mere 10 days in the studio to record. Though I agree with the buzz word "dark" being thrown around for this album, Laura describes the whole experience as natural and enjoyable. I'm quite fond of her recordings, but I find her live versions to be especially moving. This is Laura Marling performing Night After Night. I'm not sure if it's her maturing guitar style, her transfixing voice, or the honest passion in her writing that freezes both mind and body when I listen. But, in any case, I can't take this one off repeat.
I account to no one, hold nobody's ear.
I sold you my hand once and you hit me in fear.
I dont stand for the devil, I don't whisper in ears.