Interesting… you could take that title and grind out a playlist from so many different angles. I didn’t now what to expect with this one, but it’s a pleasant surprise and clever. I’m appreciating the song selection, and the careful attention to timestamping the paintings as well as the music. It’s not exactly what I expected, but then, I didn’t know what to expect. I’m glad it was this though. I’m glad it was music appropriate, more or less, to the time the paintings were created. What did Edward Hopper listen to? No clue. This works for me though. I’d like to think he enjoyed at least some of this.
Oh Edward… my brother has pulled at endless heartstrings over the years, hasn’t he? You want to describe melancholy? Hopper can help you out with that. I could give you a thousand words. God knows I know melancholy. I’ve got a PhD in melancholy. There are so many people before me though that said it better. Or in this case, painted it. A picture is worth 1000 words. Maybe 2000.
I guess I don’t have to say that I’m in the feels this morning. What’s new about that. I’m always afflicted. I’m always in the throes of great big feelings. At the whim… At the mercy… It’s better these days. It’s not so hard to get out of bed and get shit done. It’s rare now that getting out of bed is an impossible task, but it still happens.
A couple years ago I met someone I’d been corresponding with/talking to for ages. One comment she made afterwards was curious, and almost comforting. No matter how much you talk to someone in letters, or even in real time over the internet, you’re still going to get some surprises face to face. She said that she finally understood what I meant when I said I was tired. I think that’s one thing a lot of people don’t pick up on about me. If you look at a photo of me, I always appear to be short on a good night’s rest, and it’s because I am. I don’t remember the last time I felt I had enough rest. Some nights are better than others, and that makes some mornings better than others. Never fully rested though, and never feeling quite like I’m not pressed for time and chased by the clock. That’s especially true of this weekend.
That all leads to a continual state of melancholy. My life is a series of Edward Hopper paintings. Some just show solitary. Others show isolation. It’s difficult to feel fully connected when you’re always a few hours shy of a good night of sleep. It’s not that I don’t sleep. It just never feels like enough. Is it diet? Exercise? Hormones? Or maybe it’s not an inside job at all. Maybe the world does this to a man. Maybe we’re all running on fumes.
That’s where I am this morning. I’m on E. Praying only for willingness and patience. That may or may not be a very tall order. Who’s to say? The day will reveal itself.
But I’m tired.
00:00 intermezzo (charlie spivak) 04:28 charmaine (mantovani) 08:35 melody of love (wayne king) 11:46 auld lang syne (guy lombardo) 15:15 body and soul (coleman hawkins) 18:54 poinciana ‘song of the tree’ (david rose) 22:48 do you believe in dreams (francis craig) 26:56 twilight time (three suns) 30:31 intermezzo aka ‘souvenir de vienne’ (wayne king) 34:39 orchids in the moonlight (enric madriguera) 39:12 warsaw concerto (freddy martin/jack fina) 43:24 deep in my heart dear (troubadours) 48:00 dancing in the dark (artie shaw)
all songs are slowed w/ reverb
↓ PAINTINGS ↓ / (timestamps + info) 00.00 nighthawks, 1942 04.28 lighthouse hill, 1927 08.35 morning sun, 1952 11.46 summer evening, 1947 15.15 office in a small city, 1952 18.54 sun in an empty room, 1963 22.48 new york office, 1962 26.56 chair car, 1965 30.31 rooms by the sea, 1951 34.39 new york movie, 1939 39.12 the sheridan theatre, 1937 43.24 cape cod morning, 1950 48.00 hotel lobby, 1943