the incessant chill in my house
is deafening . its poison engulfs my thoughts
accumulating in the back of my mind
collecting like dust in the cracks
it erodes my soul






I stand in a treeless field with no path
no compass.
only the brown grass, 
bending under the weight of the still falling snow,
filling my tracks as I wander


the pallor of the landscape
a soundless, majestic dessert.
the colourless sky,
indiscernible from the country,
has lost her horizon in grey


the whole dome of heaven
is one winter cloud 
shrouding the sun, 
detaching her warmth
the hour is late
my fingers grow numb 
I feel my heart slow
I feel my thoughts slow
I sink into snow


etcetera

 

I am ancient
too late to claim my life, 
too old to change


Who can bend
with the river's every move?

A rod and a staff. 
How I crave the solace
A quiet life to live + serve well.
far from the murmur
the wagging eyes , the shuffling bodies
Where in the wide
can I go and not be seen?
Evaporate from my nation
my contorted tribe
My stolen life
forced into the grooves
of a collective dream
the vapid gleam
of a society given to bondage



Indeed, I am a citizen 
of the valley devoid,
the city of the swelling 
of the resonance of noise
at the clamor of imprudence,
my heart grows sick
the chatter of monkeys 
withers my ears
where can I seek the wise,
who can I entrust myself to?
to whom can I devote my time, 
where shall I invest my thoughts?




is there not one man left
not even one
Who knows yet,
the fear of the Lord

hm mm m the sun feels so good.

trace a passage

to the north

following the currents

of a gently 

soughing earth

the cold | and clumsy | of | tight skin | in | bitter winds | off the | waves and the brine | of the light rail train | shivering bodies on the coastal shelf | muttering softly | and the leaves are chattering also | the sun | she ebbs and flows | gracious days | then abandonment | I think | she belongs to a different city | . | that she smiles on a greener place somewhere else | she smiles with promise for them | and our humble city washes out gray | soaked in weeks of rain | the ground | pervaded | with frozen worms | and on the traintracks | I spy | a lifeless bird | slowly and softly decomposing

this was written by hannah minick, I take no credit

-also I recommend you read the lyrics (and other lovely thoughts,)

here.

just strumming along,
thinking aloud in a way I often do, so..
not too serious, but its a wonderful poem:

Tomorrow + Tomorrow

(click the link above to listen and download)

today, playing covers of
Cotton Jones + Beach House
in the basement.

{Gotta Cheer Up} 

-one of my favourite songs of all time

viewpoint

  

looks like.

soft, feathery split-ends. so thin she becomes transparent and almost spectral

-I like old ladies with long hair like this

something about this picture strikes me as odd,

but I cant quite figure what it is

Pure and Lovely

this is song number two on the piano,

its not actually called pure + lovely,

-it stemmed from another song I was writing and I just

needed the first line to help me remember the melody.

its just a thought,

not complete, doesnt fit with the other song either,

but if I was with you we'd probably be sitting in your livingroom or mine

talking and playing around on the piano so,

if this is the closest we can come..

feel free to click the orange link below and download

{pure + lovely}

pure and lovely

wholly let me

fall to love, oh God.

I love you like the little bird

Ive made up my mind

this is the time to relegate

no need to remind,

scans are unkind a lot of times

but Ive tried

Ive tried to write

what was in my head,

what was in my head

sometimes I feel

I feel so obsolete

because the kids want a faster beat

and if I was free, free to leave

but its my kids,

they need to eat..

I love you its true,

I love you like the little bird. (-click to listen)

no need to remind

life is unkind a lot of times

but its my kids, they need to eat

but its my kids, they need to eat

---------------------------

from: Ghosts of the Past.

{Starflyer 59.}

snow pirates and bicycles?

A song for Terence To.

who rides his bicycle to school in the cold toronto winters.

{click to download}

--
in the wake
of toronto's soul
Im sailing on the northern wave
in the peace
of an empty street
Im drifting over sun + space

early light
turns the white
snow pink Im
promised to the rolling waves
frothy foam
on a garden gnome
like brine
is stinging at my face

----------
I ride my bike
in the tiretracks of the cars
wind fills my sail,
with my eyes stung closed I
cant see where
we are.
---------

Im the captain,
the castaway,
I navigate suburban bays
in the peace
of an empty street
Im drifting over frozen waves

Biking in the snow
is a dangerous pastime
gripping at my throat
like an ancient pirate
fingers made of ice
caught me by surprise
Im never coming home.


{let the wind carry me home}--

1 Thessalonians 5:14-18

My Dad used to listen to scripture memory tapes, and I thought it was the most annoying thing in the world. But the other day I realized I STILL remember those songs,

so hey, if it works...

1 Thessalonians 5:14-18

{click here}

Morellas Forest.

1. Back in 1992
2. my destiny was stolen from me.
3. stolen quickly and painlessly
4. while I was still young and naive
5. 
   

Morella's Forest

From the corridors of Dayton Ohio,

emerged a space-age, garage-pop

shoegazing, noise pop band

who unknowingly happened upon the greatest band name in the world.

Morella,

is a great name by the way.

1. topographic name for someone who lived where brambles grew,
2. from Old Sicilian morella, Sicilian mureddha ‘blackberry’.
3. Morellas is also found as a Greek family name.
4. 
   
   I will never forgive myself for being born too late to claim this name as my own.
   alas, it is lost. it evades me like fog to the touch, lost like a gold coin in the ocean !
   boo hoo.
   
   
   
   

What I love about Kerry Wade.

listen and download:

Shes so Sci Fi

SHES SO SCI FI

where is she now, in time

and which dimension?

has she rejoined the Hong Kong Cavaliers

[in the future]

we know its bright, and gold

kerry has told me so

shes like a light

alone in time

shes a little sci fi dear,

its in her veins

she rides with johnny on the monorail

to future earth,

to outer space

where is she now, in time

and which dimension?

has she become

a bounty hunter cold

[in the future]

+ where you are

is where you go

as banzai told her so,

out on the edge

of space and time alone

and its no surprise she gets underrated...

always somewhere else.

shes a little sci fi dear

its in her veins

she rides with johnny on the mono

fading into deep deep space,

a different place.

flora/fauna

Housekeeping. I am, as of now, going through the old songs and trying to be diligent about tightening up loose ends.. -also finishing a good number of the songs that I recorded as skeletons. This proves to be........... a lot harder than I thought it would be. Why is it so much easier to record something the day you write it?

attempt no. 1

a revised flora/fauna.

When I started recording, way back when..

the comment I got most often was that the guitar is too loud so we cant hear the words. I managed to move out of that phase for a while but I think Im back in it again. I dunno.. when I stop paying attention, it eventually lends itself to shoegaze, and honestly I just cant get enough of that.

-not to say that Im particularly pleased with the wall of sound present in the second half of this song... I definitely envisioned it differently,

-but I could easily say the same of every song Ive ever tried recording.

note to self: how did I end up with more loose ends than when I started?

I Never Learned Piano

I have a brother named Jared, and he is a few years younger than me.

But it doesnt matter how old he is, he excels at everything he puts his hand to

When we were kids, he would try to do anything that I did, and he could always do it faster or better than I could.

Once when I was ten I started learning piano from my mom. As soon as I started, Jared decided he wanted to start, and he played much better than I did.. so I gave up and never looked back.

when I stopped, Jared never learned any more either, ha ha

and that is my sad tale about why I never learned to play the piano

this is much experimentation + time wasted at the keyboard:

The Glory Of {click to download}

-Megan

Fleeting Bird

what is a fleeting bird?

I meant for this song to be something of a riddle, but I never had too many people venture guesses at what it meant... actually I dont think I had anyone venture guesses.

When I wrote this song, almost immediately there were two versions

I still dont know how that happened or which came first,

was I dreaming when I wrote this? do I have multiple personalities?

no. I just have seriously embarrassing memory problems.

------------------------------------

the version most people voted for has been deemed

Version A [-for obvious reasons.]

to me it sounds like a younger time, like you were just figuring out what fleeting bird even meant, and now you are about to go out into the world.

Version A {download me}

Version B, I much preferred..

but it didnt receive any good feedback so I took it off purevolume to save space for so many new projects.

It sounds like looking back.. like someone much closer to death, having lost a lot of opportunities already and considering the last few before the hourglass is empty, you know?

Version B {download me}

-Megan

Greetings.

in the beginning the world was a . ..

alright. so its been a long time.. lots of music has been posted to purevolume and that has been really great ! but Ive decided to try a blog for music,

a. because then I actually have room to talk about the stuff Im posting and get feedback

b. because I have too much time on my hands.

essentially I am a professional time waster.

-but enough about that

music is coming, and thats all that matters.

I plan on figuring this thing out a . s . a . p . and then the magic begins.

-Miss Feniak