Could a girls farewell be any more beautifully painted in soundscape?
Maybe it’s time for the blog to dive deeper to a more personal level - at least - we can see how that goes. A lot of the music here is chosen because it strikes me. And I write about my appreciation for the lyricism and musicality and general thoughts on how the songs move me or make me feel. I feel they are all true artists.
But I left on a jet plane once. After high school, I renounced my connection to everywhere that I had come from, and left for new lands - Vancouver island - a place I’d never been.
Looking back I think I took that writing degree because of wanting to write songs, but the program did not cover music. At that age I never could have put my finger on what I really wanted. I was still acting out of rebellion and on instinct - running away in a sense from the fences and familiarity I was governed by.
Picture a girl, unpacking in a dorm room, waving goodbye to her mother who spared the tears until out of sight. Had the tears been shared, a further flicker of emotion may have been ignited. Instead - i was free. And happy to be.
The island is such a rich and beautiful place. I dove into it head first.
Camping on sombrio beach, Mondays at the boom boom room, Lucky Bar with DJ Longshanks. Smoking weed in the mystic vale and walking back to the dorm on what felt like a conveyor belt. I shopped at the vintage store, made music with friends, and always spent Thursdays clubbing at Red Jacket. Eventually I worked at Temple Bar as a host, and The Fort Cafe as a server. I had another job in admin and took 5 years instead of 4 for my degree. I came home the first summer but spent the rest far away on the artisanally diverse island, exploring and saying yes to any opportunity for adventure.
I visited home less often, and everytime I stepped on a flight - my world was at ease. I craved that freedom and that west coast breeze. But freedom is sometimes a red herring. It can make you feel strong and invincible. You can leave what you don’t want to deal with behind.
So while I didn’t know when I would be “back again,” or didn’t feel that I had a plan to do so at all…I did eventually return home, to Ontario.
After the choppy years of settling back in to a town I ran away from, I feel like I have built new roots. Now, leaving on a jet plane gives me a bit of anxiety, and I don’t so much enjoy being away from home for too long.
I will one day be on the other end - that is, the launch point of my own girls explorational years, watching them leave on a jet plane to whatever adventure they wish to embark on. And I’ll be the mother covering her tears.
I just hope that there’s harmonies as they board their jet, and that they don’t run away to forget. By persuing my dreams, and keeping my creativity alive I hope to make them stronger than I was. While those years out west I felt so so alive, there came a time that maturity had to begin it’s blooming, and when the good times wear out, or you do, there’s no road map to returning to somewhere you never planned to return to. As much as I lost in the time spent mourning my youth, I must remember what I gained by being set free across one of the world’s most beautiful landscapes.
I’ve driven the 1 highway down to California, I’ve seen bands with the Gorge Amphitheatres background, and watched stallions gait candidly alongside my car near Whistler; I took up photography, wrote hundreds of pages, and still have the same thirst for fun. So here’s to the jet plane that flew me out of here, and here’s to the slow journey of owning my life back home, and doing it right. And thanks to the creators of the world that allowed me to move by the senses of my inner light.
Could a girls farewell be any more beautifully painted in soundscape?
