I really should be posting up photos of our new vintage dresses, but on this rainy day, I cannot put away the thought of a man remembering what it was like to love and to have a bittersweet memory come alive in a song. He was in England in university during the 70s, and would listen to this in the morning hours before sunrise. He did not say, but I knew the chords could possibly bring alive the choke.
When I listen to this particular piece, I know that I, in the body meant to be me, can trespass. Faces I don’t know visit me and their love stories become life stories that become mine. Dramatic I know, but I want to hold on to this sentiment. It’s like my heart enlarges several times its possibility and I begin to believe I’m breathing with my heart. So, if there was only album in the world I want to listen to from my deathbed, it would be Los Idios Tabajaras’ Always In My Heart.
And if I cannot for some reason, I hope to hum it under my breath. It’s my way to the last.