There are times when I carry something around with me for a while. I don’t know why it’s with me, but I know that staying with it bears fruit at some stage.
“Singles remind me of kisses, albums remind me of plans.” A line from a beautiful song from one of my most loved bands. It’s just the most lovely expression of the joyful intimacy of shared hopes and private moments. At the best of times, Difford and Tillbrook write perfect lyrics, but somehow this one is lingering around me, like a cape around my shoulders. It must be there for a reason musn’t it?
Perhaps it’s like a fast track back to lost times, maybe it’s my precious fragment. Maybe that’s why I’m hanging on to it because I’m holding on to a time and a me that has gone. Ah, the writing takes me to the source.
One loss can create an echo of other losses and then you’re surrounded by the soft echoes reminding you of unresolved grief.
That single that takes you immediately back to being fantastically fourteen again, where everything is an adventure, and the album – where every track leads to another and oh, the emotional intensity attached to the dreaming your life to it. It’s joy.
The precious fragment; you can’t have it without having already lost it.