Sleep Walking at 15,000 Angels

Often the best part of travel for me is the plane rides, not the moments leading up to the plane rides but the actual flights, the moments when I am able to close my eyes and bathe myself in music. While music seems to be somewhat omnipresent in my life, it is often obstructed by my need to think. On a plane I am completely carefree, having relinquished control of the situation to higher powers and some guy that has only had 6 hours of sleep in the last 36, whose breath still smells of whiskey and the flight attendant’s breasts.

Awe shit, what just happened there, I am two stanzas away from a Penthouse Forum post, and I was supposed to be talking about music. Let's get back to that.

I had the opportunity to go to San Francisco this week which afforded me several hours of unobstructed listening time. I chose to swim in sounds that I knew would make me feel. I have never shied away from feeling. Actually I tend to embrace it, proudly tattooed myself with a purple tear drop signifying my reliance on emotions. Above thoughts and talent, emotions are what make me me. The worst part of my divorce was not the loss of her but the loss of me. This is a very strange concept to discuss because it is not physical. There is nothing specific that can be used to convey what happened to me after my divorce. The best way I have found to describe it is to say I was dead inside. I realize how awful that sounds, but in truth that is where I was. It is something I still struggle with some seven years later when I feel like I am sleepwalking (that word is going to become even more relevant in a few moment, so hang in there with me) through life, when I am not sure I will ever feel again, but then I turn to music and it stirs me in ways that help me realize I am alive and well. I may have built some walls to protect myself, but beneath the castles fortress I am as I have always been, tender, sensitive, and full of love and life.

In an effort to catapult myself over the walls, I listened to a lot of duets during the flights, something about the harmonies and the stories really helps me to feel the music. Here are a few that really resonated with me.

“Falling – the Civil Wars”



“Rootless Tree – Damien Rice w/ Lisa Hannigan”



“Low Rising – the Swell Season”



I could probably bury you in videos, but I would end up posting so many that you would be overwhelmed and end up not watching any of them. So, I’ll stop there and leave you with this poem I wrote as a response to the music and head words bouncing from frontal lobe to limbic system.

“Sleepwalking at 15,000 Angels”

As I listen to voices
Dance between melody
Always in harmony
I close eyes
Picture your face
Your smile
Its energy could fuel this mechanical bird
Floating between clouds and ground
Suspended between streams
Particles unseen but felt
Like spirits hold me
When I close eyes
Picture your face

But I am sleepwalking
Living in mind moments
Consumed by two dimensions
Unable to build bridges
Escape routes
Freedom tunnels
Rich
Vibrant
Graffiti
Guiding
Propelling

But I am sleepwalking
Numb
Flat
Darkness
Frightens
My only light
Your smile
When I close eyes
Picture your face