Mark





On Change



We started at the edge of a river with a whole lot of worry in our hands. We said “Hey! Check it out! If you want, you can gently extract your worry and deposit it in this invisible river, then watch it drift away.” We wore miming gloves and did a public demonstration. And then we were like “What the fuck are we doing? Miming in public?” Some elements weren’t right.


On change.  Change that throws you off the road at midnight. Just after the high beams blind you. The impact of a semi truck change.



Thoughts & Feelings wanted to sleep and we knew it was best to let her rest. She laid down and when she woke up she was like “I don’t want to wear these anymore.” She took off the gloves and put on a giant pair of headphones, the kind music producers wear. She started fiddling with the dials on the mixing-board and every time we piped in (“That sounds cool, what are you working on there?”) she’d throw up a finger like “Shut up. I’m trying to think.”


On change.  Change that takes your breath away, makes you say things you know have been said millions of times, and now you pathetically mumble them, sure they’ve been said better before.



We backed away and gave her space. A lot of things were dying in those days: people we loved who’d cared for us, entire relationships, whole notions of self and selfhood. We wanted nothing more than to feel and then to sleep.


On change.  Change that comes from the inevitable. Unexpected inevitable change. Death, divorce, shit you thought wouldn’t happen to you but did because you-knew-it-could-but-didn’t-fucking-know-it-would change.



Creating took it out of us. Parenting took it out of us. Work took it out of us. Being took it out of us. And still, the whole time, she was in there mixing sounds.


On change.  Change that eats away at your ability to engage. Change that slowly tears you away from those you love. Change that reminds you: you don’t have as many of Those You Love, or as many as maybe you should, or could have. Change that keeps reminding you of your epic, expansive, “you are nothing in this world,” alone kind of change.



We love her fortitude and her drive. She’s got the grace of an ampersand and this simple conviction: Everything should be a song.


On Change.























Mark
 
Mark
Mark




    
  
Mark