a song snack
I made a playlist, just stuff I’ve been listening to lately. If you know me at all, you know I love a good old fashioned split personality music mix. Bluegrass side by side with rap next to classic oldies next to that shitty pop punk song you loved in 10th grade. Music like this reminds me of colors - how when you put pink next to blue, it looks completely different when it’s next to white.
I love music. I love listening to it while I drive, while I make dinner, and I especially love live music. In my essay, “Smells Like Korean Adoptee Teen Spirit,” I wrote about attending my first concert, the Smashing Pumpkins, when I was 13:
It was exhilarating to share the rush and fever of the crowd, all of us letting our insides gush out together in a dark, gorgeous mess. That first concert became a part of me, slipping itself into the hollow of my bones and in the space between my heartbeats.
Today I still feel a rhythm and most of all, lyrics, in my body. The poetry of music lyrics has a tremendous influence on my writing. I try to read my work out loud to see how it sounds coming out of my mouth, if the words flow together seamlessly, if something sounds off.
Here’s an excerpt from a short story I’ve had on the backburner for a while called, “When The Sand Runs Out.” I played with some unusual sounds in my word choices.
Even though the water reached Jason’s hips, it only came to Madox’s concave chest. The two of them dove through waves, slapping fistfulls of hair away from their faces, the umami of the sea on their tongues. The ocean coaxed Madox into the tide, cradling his worries, and he emerged refreshed.
Thanks for reading.