Apparently enough to buy two of you in one day- and finish both.
Also, in other news, this morning before we jetted away from Guangzhou (tears! resentment! damn you, shanghai...) I found a market even more grand and amazing than all of the other ones I had found combined. It started out the way most of my market discoveries start. I saw an old chinese lady with a bundle of vegetables walking down the road- there! theres another one. Pretty soon, as long as you keep following the red plastic bags filled with vegetables, hunks of meat, and eggs, you find yourself in a neighborhood market.
Man, this one was epic. But I can't start to describe it, or give you my pictures. know why? I'm on the verge of sick, its late, and i want to get some sleep.
What i will do, after all the build up (oh, aren't I a tease of an blogger?) Is open up what from here on out will be a feature on Le blog. Music really gets to me, and lately I've been hearing a lot of songs that give me visceral memories. I'm a classic example of an auditory learner, something that i think ties into my extremely strong associations of times, people, and events with particular songs. I mean, I know that we all tie songs to times in our lives, but I get it bad. Like, can't listen to albums for years kind of bad. Not like, one album once in a while needs to be retired. It seems like every month I'm crossing off a few more albums I just can't, for painful nostalgia's sake, listen to. It's very inconvenient.
This having been said, since I'm being reminded so often lately, I'm going to attempt to exorcise some of these memories. I'll be putting up a little blurb and the music video for some of these. You guys can tell me if you like it. Theyll be short, and vague. So typical, eh?
All Falls Down
Kanye West, Lauren Hill
I’m in your car, and we’re driving through the cool Hawaiian air. I think it’s the H-1? The lights are blurring together cause my eyes are half open, too comfortable for complete lucidity. We’re both muttering the words to the rap, actions heavy with familiarity and repetition. The air on my skin is cool, coats me with a fine sheen of chill against the heavy warmth that’s been baked lately, by long hours landscaping, into my being. The evening air, as it always does, sings thick with promise. I push your hand.
Odd the things that stick within sensory memories.
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