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1.17.02
Ooh, goody, I know what I'm doing with my spending money this weekend. I've previewed Natalie Merchant's new Motherland CD online, and it's lovely.
Love her, love her lyrical mind, love her lullaby voice. It is a voice that reminds me of Alice Hoffman's book Practical Magic, where all the butter in the house keeps melting because the woman who lives there is so head-over-heels in love.
Everyone knows passion affects the material world. Babies arrive, for instance. Or you grind the coffee down into such a fine dust that it clogs up the filter and the water flows onto the kitchen floor, or you drive your car past the freeway offramp you meant to take, or you lather-rinse-repeat four times instead of two, from distraction and brain fever. Some of the really huge moments in history may have been started by simple acts of absentminded lovesickness. The Helen of Troy effect.
It's strange, the things that can cause every cell in your brain to fly around in a tornado. But if you direct all your passion back into the music you're listening to, the song just sucks it up and spreads it around the world each time someone turns on a radio. No, really. That's how it works. Passion is neither created nor destroyed, it simply changes form. Or melts butter.
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