Hope and Despair

Just kicking back allowing the breathy, sultry sound of Hope Sandoval's forlorn voice singing "Fade Into You" with her band, Mazzy Star as it gently renders me love-stricken. She's like a hybrid of Diana Ross and Margo Timmins? It really takes me back to that special place in my mind that began to develop in the early nineties when I first discovered the melancholy joys of smoking herbal jazz cigarettes whilst listening to late night radio within the confines of my "trip emporium" / bedroom of my parent's basement. I'd sure like the opportunity to fade into Hope Sandoval someday! I think she even gives the young Michelle Phillips of The Mamas and the Papas a run for her money in the cuteness department. Yowza! I wonder if she ever smiles? She's so dreamy!



It's always a fun trip considering how long I've lived in my studio apartment here in Edmonton. Just moments ago, as I was walking home from the corner store this evening, remarking to myself about how much I appreciate the familiarity of the neighbourhood - from the old Victorian houses lining the avenue down to the old cracks in the sidewalks - the streets turned inward; all the congruousness therein caught me off guard. As a crayon, I was forced to move around like a lopsided top, spun around haphazardly by a couple of the greatest diplomats in the world, and now, on my fifth year of living in this tiny downtown abode, my surroundings feel ever more like home with each passing season. Running into familiar faces, chatting with the shop keepers... my own sort of Coronation Street reality with a Canadian twist to it.

So much time wasted? While I haven't been as productive as I could've / should've been, I like to think my ship will eventually come in - in due time - if it's even bound to moor at all. All those booze fueled, debaucherous nights, listless and unemployed days, dreaming about writing songs and singing them to the enthusiastic young arts majoresses in the front row at one of the local open stages... certainly the wastrel lifestyle must be leading up to something great? I keep trying to convince my benevolent parents that this is indeed the case.

Just finished painting my rather large walk-in closet a sort of cappuccino colour - the same as I painted the rest of the walls in this apartment. Perfect tone for a heavy smoker like myself without being too dark. I find the light brown colour really works well to mellow-out the intense deep green of the baseboards, vertical blinds, and doors. The colour was even hand picked by a professional Benjamin Moore dude with an eye for hues and such.

I plan on transforming the biggish small closet space into an office of yesteryear- an oasis from modern-day info-tech status quo, complete with a desk, a Rolodex, a typewriter, a telephone, and extensive reference library. A place where I can break free from the internet and do some writing without the distraction of the World Wide Web and super-PC at my fingertips. My own personal time portal. Maybe you'd like to call me at the office sometime? I'll jot down your vitals on a reference card and get back to you pronto!

Are you nostalgiac like me? Would you consider yourself a solitary man / woman? Care to start a band?