collections: a weekly reset

It’s March 18th. My writing gets further and further away from consistency. It’s been a hard few weeks.

  • my life into folklore: the grammy awards, and this album that snapped me out of a quarantine stupor
  • post-apocalyptic musicscapes: music tells time better than our memories can
  • you can’t say someone deserved better: nobody should deserve justice if we all entitled to it


💌


my life into folklore

the grammy awards, and this album that snapped me out of a quarantine stupor

I had called it an interminable summer. The days were senseless and the months were beyond my senses. I couldn’t feel the time passing, only a current of afternoons and nights that eclipsed one after the other.

Among critic circles, folklore was lionized as the “quintessential quarantine album”. It was a concept borne and executed only under circumstances as cosmic and devastating as the past year.

It was the kind of thing none of us expected, but once it was part of our lives, it made itself permanent. Folklore won a Grammy for that, Taylor’s third Grammy Award in fact.

post-apocalyptic musicscapes

music tells time better than our memories can

My sonic memories of 2017, in soft vocals and sparse instruments. It sounds, overwhelmingly, like Novo Amor. How the timbre of his music transports me to long bus rides in the January cold. Back in 2017 when everything was just beginning and would be over as soon as I knew it.

you can’t say someone deserved better

nobody should deserve justice if we all entitled to it

The news has been treacherous this week (and the week before). The headlines have been marred by violence and suffering and outrage. It’s all so inevitable, yet inevitably pitiful. The news cycle won’t stop, but time is supposed to go on.

this past week