the-river-willow-blog

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“I once had a dream/so I packed up and split for the city” I moved out of my childhood home on August 15th, 2017. Two weeks before me 20th birthday. I’ve been through a lot since then. Started working, started going to school full time, I’ve fallen madly and ridiculously in love, started working a second job, while also attempting to compartmentalize the great change which had just occurred in my life. Pet Sounds is a weird record for me. I hated it when I was younger. I was a Beatles fan, you see, and you can’t love The Beatles and The Beach Boys simultaneously. It’s an either or type deal. That was my thought process, anyway. It was dumb. I had a lot of silly notions back then, but that is okay. I started listening to Pet Sounds sometime in late August or Early September, I really can not recall. It blew me away. Very seldom do I encounter a piece of art that I feel completely exemplifies my current Entirety. I felt that Brian Wilson was speaking to me. I related to heavily to the lyrics and ���feel” of the record. I am not unique in this. I am sure there are numerous sad lonely white boys who have a similar experience with this record. But, nonetheless, it impacted me just the  same. Pet Sounds was one of two records I revisited this fall which grew to love after detesting for years (I’ll touch on the other one some point in the future).

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(via https://open.spotify.com/track/102miCUSCF3LaVvikLPUIf) I like Amanda’s covers of Radiohead, Thom York’s voice has always turned me off. I met a beautiful girl at the library a couple weeks ago. I was sitting in the study area reading some short story collection picked up at random, she opened a door which was immediately to my right And when she walked through it, the smell of her perfume wafted over to me and hit my nervous system like a goddamn lightening bolt. I wanted to talk to her. But I’m not one to talk to just go up to women and talk to them. I saw she had pack of cigarettes in her shorts. I decided,that, if she is out front of the library when I leave, I will bum a cig from her and attempt conversation. She was. And I did. We talked for a long time. We exchanged numbers. It was great . I had always wanted to meet a girl at a library. It was good for a couple of days, but then she found out I was 19 (she is 24), which wasn’t that big of an issue, but my confidence was dealt a blow. I could feel myself saying silly stupid things as an attempt to sound older, more grown up. I did some stupid, immature, things. She sent my a text saying that the age gap was just too wide. She was right. It bummed me out greatly. But she was right. This song came up in my Spotify shuffle, it reminded me of her, of Morgan. That’s all.

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A beginning, of sorts.

I’ve been wanting to post more “legitimate” writing for awhile now. To put my ideas, thoughts, feelings about music and art and books --and anything at all-- out here on the web. It felt pretentious to do so, that it was somehow wrong of me to want to have an audience. A girl recently pointed out that I suffer from both “The Good’‘ and “The Bad” aspects of “The Hipster” cliche, and that, maybe, I should stop attempting to hide or mask the good aspects of it under self-deprecation and parody, to fully embrace what I am and like. So this will be a manifestation of that concept, to fully embrace my supposed “pretentious” tendencies and create something. I’ve always wanted to do a song a day sort of thing, post one song everyday, and say a lil thing about it. I think I will do that. I doubt I will attract any attention, but the very least this little blog will get me writing again which is what’s most important.  Thanks for reading, Rowan.

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Something of the aether

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Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)

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(unknown)