Tag Archives: nostalgia

While putting a friends birthday into my google calendar I was reminded of an old friend’s birthday calendar. I remember when I was young looking at all the dates and people remembered there, added year after year. There was something special that technology seems to miss a little. Oh sweet nostalgia, bittersweet, fond memory.

Since I’m sick in bed today, my day consisted primarily of the following three activities:

1. coughing

2. organizing and adding to itunes the bounty of music that has been provided to me through dropbox for the past 7 months

3. googling Kristina Horner, and to a lesser extent both Alex Day and Luke Conard. Okay, I know her personal life and break ups are not really any of my business, but humans are naturally curious about one another’s lives right? I think Kristina seems downright lovely in her youtube videos. I love both the song Hey Kristina, and Mrs. Nerimon, largely to the adorable factor. I have watched some of Alex’s videos, and especially looked into some with Kristina in them, but I am not as much of a fan. I absolutely love Sondre Lerche and this song though, and their voices harmonize beautifully.I also enjoy Luke Conard’s music videos, and watch his vlogs when I’m out of other subscriptions sometimes. I think his current gf, Ingrid, is also very sweet and I enjoy her videos despite not being that into makeup, or like even brushing my hair. However, the videos of Luke and Kristina when they were dating are some of my favourites, and looking back on two peoples lives, two people who I don’t even know, and feeling the way I do is an interesting phenomenon. I have an upcoming blog post that will maybe delve deeper into this pondering.

I find it peculiar and strangely and wonderfully human that I can feelĀ  nostalgic for a past that is not even mine.

Complexities of Longing

Remembering people and places I’ve lots touch with makes me wonder if humans were meant to travel wide and far, even amiciably growing a part from people has a sort of pain to it. There is only so much time and energy to put into friendships, and maybe if we didn’t move around so much we would not aquire and shed the way we do, for it is hard to remain close over great distance, especially when years slip by. I do not know why it is I desire to hold on to connections so tightly, although human nature itself is surely the reason in part, I wonder if perhaps the isolation I felt from my peers for some time led my to hold so tight to the friends I made. Sometimes I simply forget, but if I remember, bumping into some trace of what we had, or the person themself, the waves of nostalgia overtake me. It is a strange feeling to be content in the present, and even excited for the future, while still missing the past. However it feels rooted to my extreme disconfort with eternity and mortality, I would like to have forever to explain time in both directions.

Strangely enough, this is probably also why I’m a pack rat, and a compassionate person.

I was just finding pictures of snakes

and lizards from Tipi Camp to show Adam who also likes snakes and lizards but it made me miss camp and that type of community and environment. At least I know I really loved it there and appreciated it. I still wish I could do the Young Adults program, but I’ll hit 21 before I’m done school. I don’t keep in great touch with those people, but they are dear to my heart.

P.S. I wish Clara still did her lovely little tumblr of the best drawings ever.

Los Campesinos! and Memories

The weekend before last I went to a Los Campesinos! concert at Lee’s Palace. I went with three guys, a friend of two of his friends. We went out to eat first, they all seemed like pretty cool guys. A bunch of engineers and a dancer (I am an engineer, I mean, I wish I had that type of coordination.)

The concert was a beautiful thing.

Performances always make me feel so vividly, I was overwhelmed with emotion before it even really started. I felt really close to the people I went with, despite having no right to. It made me feel vulnerable in a way that almost matched the music. But that was just the beginning.

I say that I feel deeply, and I am being honest. There is something so exhilarating about live music, about the voice of the crowd, the surrealism of being there in a room with the people who created something you love, who wrote songs that spoke to you.

As an extrovert, something about crowds of people crushed against one another singing and cheering and moving is incredibly exhilarating. Especially when I’m separated from so many of the people I love right now.

I mean, there’s a reason I got my first kiss at a concert.

Another reason I’m really glad I went with the guys I went with is that they were as excited as I was. Probably more excited even in some cases. We got there early, we were at the very front, we danced and jumped and became a jumble of thrashing limbs riding on the wave of the music.

Someone actually tried to crowd surf. One word, FAIL.

I didn’t really anticipate how strongly the music would bring me back to my first semester of university, falling in love, gaining independence, exploring a new city. It reminded me of anarchist books about traveling Europe penniless, and shy phone calls, poetry slams and running through the grass in the middle of the night, gleeful laughter and painful confusing and delicious hesitation.

I kind of just wanted to be held. And the crowd held me, so to speak.

The next few days I felt myself longing for the connection, I felt a loss for something that was fleeting despite its strength.

I got a ride home that night, and my three friends went off together, I know that they were just sleeping on the floor in a house too full of people, but it felt strange to leave them after sharing the best concert of my life. We hugged hard on parting.

The thing about good things is that they don’t feel quite real afterwards. The moments were so intense that they feel imagined. Drunk of the energy of the crowd our words perhaps were not as sincere as they felt when spoken. I hope not, but wondering makes me long for the connection I felt in an achy sort of way.

It was a wonderful time. I’m grateful I was invited to something so special, irregardless of the past or future.

I didn’t want to miss any of the experience by pulling my phone out and taking photos (it was sort of hard to get at lodged in my sock/shoe) but I found these videos of the actual concert I was at. Something I love about the internet.