Monday, April 27, 2009

We Love.

I am not sure there is a more fitting song for me right now than Pogo's "Alice." And it comes as little surprise that it birthed from what are probably still my two favorite books.

"Alice" is fractured, yet repeated, in all the ways I feel. The patterns are there, and the essence feels so obvious, but I still cannot truly figure it out.

A soothing and ominous drone loop is the base. The haze of life. A deep, but gentle drumbeat provides stability and a reliable figure to retain balance. Goofy, albeit all too common in the most beautiful way, sounds poke at substance. My heart and head feel the jabs, placing no blame on the abundance of stimuli, knowing that there is no culprit unless one wishes to complain about the terribly gorgeous variety of life. This is what it is. This is what it should be. I would not have it any other way.

The spoken samples are, I believe, taken from the line "I give myself very good advice, but very seldom do I follow it. That explains the trouble." They are spliced up to essentially morph into "Very seldom. Follow it. We love...trouble," with a bit of overlap. Alice begins to say "very seldom," heartbreaking in its isolation. But before she can even feel bad, she interrupts herself with an assuredly forceful "follow it." Further making the stand, she spurts "we love," followed by a jumble of speech, culminating in "trouble."

This could be my mantra.

It is not about the fact that I give myself good advice, but seldom follow it. Or that I urge myself to follow and trust myself. I do not even take pride in my love for trouble. Yes, all those are all actually very true for me. But the focus is more.

Feel disappointed with yourself.
Try to force yourself to get motivated or do something.
Relax, and realize who you are and embrace your identity through love.

Lugubrious. Lionhearted. Love.

Recognize and feel the first two as they come. Yes. But never be afraid of the latter, especially if you cannot always keep it in mind or soul.

After Alice concludes her first cycle, as well as after many later ones, the flowers rejoice. They are not an outside audience. They represent her objective identity, delighted at her decision to be happy with who she is.

Making the project even greater is the video, uploaded and likely created by Pogo himself, which not only fits the song but accentuates it by explaining a bit more about the pieces and the work as a whole.

Since "90%" of the song is composed of sounds from the movie, one can see the context of most all of them, while still being intrigued in the video's overall meaning. It cuts often and without much transition, yet the images all seem to bounce in rhythm and reflect their musical counterpart.

Moreover, the beginning, middle and end are perfect accompaniments to the central cycle found within the song. She starts out looking afraid and unsure of herself. Stronger images of action and power start popping up. Alice stops struggling against the commotion and lays back with a content smile.

That is what I want.

I do not want to give in or give up. What I do want is to not get too worked up over all that is swirling around or inside of me.

Although I can often be overwhelmed by it, there are few sensations or states of being that I value or revel in more than confusion. This song and video not only serve as perfect examples of my attitude toward uncertainty, of which I consider to be the only (near) certainty, but it also acts as a reminder of how great it can be to be truly mixed up.

2 comments:

Sam said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sam said...

You described the indescribable.

I wish I was nearly as good of a writer as you.
And that's not flattery