Saturday 21 November 2015

Are We There

Sharon Van Etten and I have a very interesting relationship. I dislike her for indulging (and enabling?) me in my feelings while at the exact same time I love her because she gives words to my feelings, those feelings that are buried so deep inside me that on good days, I convince myself that I don't have them. She is my go to person when caffeine and alcohol (and sometimes nicotine) have failed to calm me down. She is the one I go to when I want a good cry, the kind of cry that makes me feel better when I am done. She reminds me every night when I am up at 2 am, when everyone else has gone to sleep that I am not alone in my feelings, that she feels them too. She creates a good kind of background noise when I am deep in my own creations.

Sharon and I started our relationship about a year and half ago, we are nearing our second year anniversary (yay!) which we have to celebrate. Have you ever met someone and knew right away that you guys would be in each others lives forever, whether in a platonic or romantic capacity? She came into my life at precisely the moment I needed her the most. I know that sounds cliché, but I believe for a relationship to work, time plays a big role. Two people could be perfect for each other but if they meet at the wrong time, then the relationship can't work. Won't work. That said, I still think that it doesn't really matter when we were meant to meet, Sharon and I. But I have the mind to realise the concept that everyone thinks they are different is the one at work here. Our -seemingly- humble introduction was by the song  All I Can from her 2012 album Tramp. But really, there was nothing humble about our introduction. She told me then, 'we all make mistakes, we all try to free the sighs of the past. We don't wanna last.' And my first thought was, "Who is this new person?" There is a special kind of connection I have with the people with whom our first interaction is not small talk, but a kind of bonding that, in normal polite company, is not meant for strangers. When the conversation is about our deepest desires, our worst mistakes, our broken hopes, the regrets that we lie to ourselves that we don't have, then small talk is not only unnecessary, small talk is criminal. It was then that I decided to get to know (and own) all of her songs.

And so began my quest. I started with sampling a few songs here and there and then decided to go big or go home. 2009's Because I was in Love was first in line and my favourites from the album are Same Dream and Consolation Prize. Then there was the 2010 album Epic in which I couldn't get enough of A Crime. With Tramp, I loved Give Out, We are Fine, All I Can and Serpents.  And so last year when she released Are We There, I was beyond excited. Every time I say Are We There, I am tempted to add 'Yet' not because Are We There is lacking but because it speaks to me, to my life. I have talked before about how I am in this constant state of waiting for something(s) that I can't quite describe even to myself. I am in a sort of journey to an unfamiliar place. I'll know it when I get it, I'll know when I have arrived, but that doesn't stop me from hoping that every new thing I try, every time something happens to me is 'it' is 'there'. I can't help but ask myself, 'is this it? am I there yet?'

In Tarifa, Sharon says 'Tell me I am not a child.' I mull over this particular line everyday in my quest to be the adult that I think I should be, that I ought to be, but I feel like a fraud taking and using the word 'adult' to describe myself while deep down the term feels like a misnomer especially since I feel like a child. In I Know, she says 'I cannot tell the poet eye apart from mine.....I sing about my fear and love and what it brings.....I know it's hard to find out what I am not.' I can't tell you how many times I have had this song on repeat. Partly because it reminds me of a person I used to know, but mostly because this song speaks so truthfully of the relationship I have with myself.

I could go on and on about Sharon (and me). But since everyday for me is a different version of 'am I there, yet?' I'll just leave this here.

Sharon Van Etten - Are We There (full album): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZqsyBiYZFQ2xCvI-HaocJOOUAGhV7MN-

on beginnings

ours was a messy beginning: a convoluted nonbeginning of starts and stops. of starry friday nights. of melancholy late saturday evenings. of glorious early sunday mornings. of trying to read each other. of looking at each other for clues. of saying no but meaning yes. of embracing each other. of pushing each other away. of getting mixed signals.

our beginning was full of (un)ending frustrations. full of wanting. something, anything. that only begot more wanting. and then realising -finally!- that we hated what we are not. that we could and couldn't be.

ours was a passionate beginning. of not getting enough of each other. of wanting to get inside of each other. of wanting to exist in each other only. of existing only for each other. of needing only each other. of wanting to be seen. of not wanting to be seen. of being seen. of getting only disapproval and judgement. of being together because of the disapproving looks. of being together in spite of the judgement.

our beginning was different. one in which we could see the end as it began. one in which we could see the end on the horizon, but the horizon kept moving further as we approached. one in which we had our doubts as we began. one in which our hope for a future nodding acquaintanceship was the only thing that kept us going. one in which we persisted despite knowing that one day soon, we would (will) part.