Joanna Newsom

If you haven't heard her music, brace yourself. Joanna Newsom is a harpist, pianist and singer/songwriter who happens to be both incredibly musically gifted and hard to listen to.
I was introduced to her by Josh, who seems to have been put under a spell by her musicianship. He encourages me to listen to the entirety of a song before I dismiss it -- which is a nicer way of saying I have no choice but to do so -- and her music was no exception. I am not even sure which song he had recorded on his fancy music-player-thingy, but it was ridiculously long. Her voice is almost abrasive, though she describes it as extremely "charactered." But, because I care about Josh and he cares about her music, I listened to not only that song, but several others in the past weeks. And I have decided that I like her. I do NOT like her voice, but everything else about her is enchanting.
I think it was watching her play that turned the tides for me ... I LOVE to watch people doing things that they love. You can see the depth of her passion exploding in her fingertips as they hit the harpstrings, and the way she contorts her face is revealing of deep concentration and concern. Her lyrics are magical and literary at the same time -- that may be the thing I like the most. Wait, no ... my favorite thing about her is that she is a self-proclaimed social weirdo (even though she is crazy gorgeous).

So now for the real reason I am writing this post. I was reading an interview with her, and I felt that there was a perfect word to describe her (insofar as I know her), but I just couldn't find it. It was driving me crazy. And then I woke up at 2:30 am this morning and knew just what it was. Incandescent. It means, "glowing or white with heat; intensely bright; brilliant; masterly; extraordinarily lucid; aglow with ardor, purpose, etc." Yup. And after awakening with the perfect word, I had to share it with someone, which turned out to be you, dear faceless blog reader.

So check her out. And give her a chance. But don't condone her crazy voice :)

A Note for Someone Else

I ended up in a little used bookstore on Monday night (thanks to my sweet man), and it was wonderful. It even smelled wonderful. If you don't know what I mean, then I will never be able to explain it to you. The place seems to be frequented by indie twenty-somethings who either love old, interesting books or think that the tired, tattered pages complement their disheveled style. But no matter the attire of the patrons ... because I had a splendid time perusing the eclectic selection of old and new titles. Because I work in a bookstore that sells only pristine books, it was easy to pass over the recent releases (if I am going to give in, I will at least wait until I can use my discount). Instead, I was drawn to books with yellowed pages, books acquainted with teaching their readers, books that seem to have mustered a wisdom of their own through the years.

And so I ended up in the section with all the modern library books. These editions were sold at "a price within everyone's reach," as the back boasts, in order to bring literature into everyone's library. It was so fun to open the covers of these books and see the prices set at just over $1. There were two of these titles that left the store with me (legally, of course): “Vanity Fair” and “The Consolation of Philosophy”. I chose “Vanity Fair” merely because I have always wanted to read it, especially after reading “Pilgrim’s Progress”. I first picked up “The Consolation of Philosophy” because I saw the name “À Kempis” on the spine, and immediately knew that it housed one of my favorite texts, “The Imitation of Christ.” But the reason that I was decided in leaving with this book was not merely for the classical material in it’s pages, but also for an enchanting little note that was written inside. It reads:

Dear Judy,
Just think – no more chaos! May you have smooth sailing from here on – except when I’m around to wreck havoc!
Love, Janice

This Janice sounds like a wonderful friend – thoughtful, spunky and quick to buy a friend a book in her time of need! I haven’t read the other two texts in the volume (“The Consolation of Philosphy” by Boethius or “Religio Medici” by Thomas Browne), but this note seemed a bit puzzling in light of what I have read. I read “The Imitation of Christ,” for my exit interview – along with 35 other books – so I will be the first to admit that I may not remember it extremely well. But the book is very much about holiness, discipline and the emulation of Christ – not something typically given to someone trying to weather a storm. If I am fighting to keep afloat, the last thing I want is more to manage. But as I reflected on this sweet little note, the more it seems a perfect choice. À Kempis is urging the reader to usher the heart of Christ deeply into her own heart, so that they beat as one. When one is fighting to exemplify the heart and actions of Christ, it seems a wonderful invitation for not only for His holiness, but for all of His character. In seeking His righteousness, one will surely encounter his love. In seeking His discipline, one will surely encounter his mercy. In seeking His perfection, one will surely encounter His grace. Thank you Jesus, for offering the whole of yourself to your children – you are good beyond my wildest dreams. And thank you Janice for encouraging your dear friend decades ago, and for encouraging me today.


[[Completely Random Side note: Hegel has some beautiful things to say about marriage. And what makes it even better is that he wasn't trying to be flowery. He was trying to articulate the ethics and realities of marriage, and those realities just so happen to be beautiful. Check it out. It's in "Philosophy of Right."]]