10 March 2011

My Name Is Selene

Endymion and Selene by Victor Florence-Pollett
I always felt bad for Selene, to be in love with a man
who can never truly love her back. It sucks.
“Time casts its spell on you, but you won't forget me.
I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me.
I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you.
You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.”
~ Fleetwood Mac, “Silver Spring”

As you may have been able to tell, I’ve had a falling out of sorts recently. And by recently, I mean it’s been a very slow, grueling emotional decay from really good friendship to more or less bitter arguing about nothing important over the course of several months. And, now, it’s finally reached a climactic low. So. Yesterday afternoon, I wrote the letter just to find a place where I could pour out all of my pent up energy and emotions that I haven’t been able to express for various reasons. Then last night, because of course he had not read my letter (nor would I really want him to right away; I feel we both need a little distance first), we ended up fighting again. And by fighting, I mean I tried to talk to him, and he basically told me to shut up and leave him alone because he’s tired of being bothered.

I *bother* him maybe once every few days, and he’s always told me that I don’t bother him when I talk to him, but whatever. At this point, it’s not a big deal.

Regardless, I’m going to do now what I always do whenever I get my heart crushed: write lots of songs and paint lots of pictures. Like many creative souls, I find that angst is the most productive muse. I will use this pain to make something worthwhile, whether it’s a nostalgic ballad or an angry painting or all the variations in between, something beautiful will come out of this experience. And then, once I’ve poured all my melancholy into my poetry and music and art, I’ll feel better. It will all be outside of me, and then, finally, I’ll be able to move on and let go. Naturally, any artistic and lyrical products of this angst shall be posted here for the judgment of you, my wonderful readers. Who are mostly my friends and family, haha.
That’s one of the great things about being a multi-purpose artist. I may have a lot of emotions, always boiling under the surface for bad or good, but I have as many constructive outlets for those emotions when need be. Focusing negative energy into something positive is a wonderful way of releasing it in a harmless manner. Ok, mostly harmless. The subjects of song lyrics might get their feelings a little miffed if ever, for some reason, my music becomes popular and public (considering I don’t publicize it, play mostly covers whenever I perform, am not in the habit of sending song lyrics to the people I wrote them about, and I’ve made zero attempts of putting my music in the hands of anyone with a foot in the agency…my sudden rise to stardom seems a highly unlikely scenario).

Thus, I will leave you with the song that has been helping me get through this right now, until I can find the time to sit down and pour out my own version. I stumbled across one of my favorite bands, Eisley, performing one of my favorite covers, “Silver Spring” by Fleetwood Mac, and posted it to my Facebook page. Since it has grown yet nearer and dearer to my heart since, I thought I would share it here as well. Enjoy Stacy DuPree’s beautiful voice singing out all the melancholy in the world. There’s definitely something magical about music.

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