14 October 2013
I could listen to this song on repeat until the end of my days. I like the comment on youtube: Someone got into God’s iPod. I love all the layers to this song. The heart and the blood and the flesh of it. The fact that blood banks are symbols of complete hope and utter hopelessness, depending on which way you approach it. There’s an amazing sense of presence, of immediacy here. You said ‘Ain’t it just like the present to be showing up like this?’ We are where we find ourselves, only in so much as we find ourselves here.
I’m sorry for my comment this morning. It feels so righteous, so presumptuous to just say Here’s a book, try it, see if it will fix things. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was placating you. It was an immediate reaction when I read your post because of how much Brene Brown writes about community, about connection, about the inherent suffering that comes when we forget that humans are tribal, relational.
Spirituality is recognizing and celebrating that we are all inextricably connected to each other by a power greater than all of us, and that our connection to that power and to one another is grounded in love and compassion. Practicing spirituality brings a sense of perspective, meaning and purpose to our lives.
– Brene Brown
It was also a knee-jerk response because I was also wide awake at 3am. I had a nightmare, I woke up Andrew, and then neither of us could get back to sleep. And nothing good comes of that.
“A few nights ago, talking to a friend over e-mail, I suggested that Bon Iver could be nothing more than an indie-endorsed Jack Johnson, that it’s possible he may perform barefoot, and every song could be about waking up on Sunday mornings next to his favorite lady. Who’s to say he’s not another guitar troubador with a fake southern slur hiding limited vocal range, winking at the girls in the front row? (Actually, there’s probably a lot of people who would argue against that and would probably be right.) But more and more, I can’t stop listening to “Blood Bank”. I’ve listened to it 28 times on iTunes alone, and God knows how many times on my now crapped-out iPod. It’s got atmosphere to spare and feels perfect after 9 consecutive days of snow.”
– posted by The Ghost of Gordon Sumner
No matter where I go, I keep coming back to Bon Iver, to Justin Vernon, to the music and to the sparseness of the stories and parables, especially when they’re interpreted in other voices. Amazing. I could listen to these songs forever. I have all of the covers you sent me on their own playlist, and I adore them all, for all different reasons. I should try writing poems for each of them and see what happens.
This one, the Krossmen. You sent it to me. It’s, well, so apropos because these four talented young men are from St. Olaf College in Minnesota… a college where I was accepted and almost went because of the quality of the choir there. It seems funny now, that I almost chose a college for singing, but didn’t end up studying singing. Even so, these men made me pause and think in another life, I might have somehow known them.
So thanks for sending me that.
I even love when Justin sings other people’s songs, because he has pure heart and emotion in his voice. He is a natural storyteller.
I know I keep saying the same things over and over again, but this is just the only refrain in my head. Thank you. Thank you.