So some months ago, I'll daresay, it's hard to pinpoint exacts in these cases - I was exposed to music, by word of Sorne.
It's not often I wrote about music, I think it's happened once here.
Simply put I don't know. There is something deep and visceral here.
Layered noises and some painfully raw lyrics, the visuals, it comes together, giving me the chills. I find myself coming back to this music frequently - sometimes; it's a hard chew, the sound weighs too heavily.
Other times, it seems to upset my child, she gets cranky, fusses, gets clingy.
Typically, it is for the head set, the quiet of the evening, like tonight, when I am able to widdle the night away, the mind leaping, playing. Something about this gets my juices flowing, the creative, the carnal, the dark. The urge to dance; to just gyrate around. Makes me with I had access to a drum circle and body paint.
To paint myself with white and black paints, with red dots and jagged lines. To lust at my man, and dance around like a wild thing amid the trees, or the desert.
Ah; but one can dream.
No comments:
Post a Comment