Demolition - Mount Eerie.mp3

[00:00.000] 作曲 : Phil Elverum
[02:25.550]Wind blows
[02:30.897]Moving dark silver blue
[02:36.944]Clouds showing moon
[02:41.227]
[02:51.360]I wake up in the still deep dark
[02:55.914]And in that moment pull thoughts back in through the open window to the ground of this beginning day
[03:09.504]The floor by the bed is wood
[03:14.914]From my feet to planks to plywood to posts to cement to bedrock
[03:23.132]I touch ground and stand up
[03:29.648]In the dark, life becomes clear
[03:34.313]I'm almost 46
[03:37.245]I have so many hopes
[03:39.960]Behind me is turbulence
[03:43.309]I sweep the kitchen every night
[03:46.070]I fumble my delicate knowing
[03:49.120]Called back in each idle moment to the archive of smoldering old wounds
[03:54.595]To run through them again
[03:58.587]I wake back up
[03:59.611]
[04:02.861]Is there a song on the wind?
[04:06.186]Recurring questions nudge me along
[04:10.873]People ask, and I answer that l'm a musician but that's not it
[04:17.540]Mother Night
[04:20.390]The self-evidence of birdsong
[04:25.619]I sing my little songs in a burning time of nature
[04:29.489]And woman-denying authoritarian landlords
[04:33.214]Of numbed-out spectators glazing over the genocides
[04:37.605]Privileged and healthy for the moment while seas rise
[04:44.390]This place where I live is beautiful and troubled
[04:48.770]They say it's in a nation but I disagree
[04:54.815]The sloping hill curves around and the river changes course
[05:00.778]
[05:03.440]With decades of baggage
[05:05.465]I moved a little bit away from the town of Anacortes where circling military jets roar their reminder
[05:13.591]"There's wars. This peace you breathe is flimsy. We rule."
[05:24.125]I bite the inside of my cheek and sidestep mere despair at the gnashing human world
[05:31.200]And go downstairs in the dark
[05:38.049]A stream finds the low place and glitters
[05:42.857]
[05:47.740]There is no other home but here and now
[05:53.216]Here, on the paper thin west edge of a colonized continent
[05:58.899]Enclosed and named and sold and resold in multi-generational deep ignorance
[06:08.716]I used to dream that my roots were strong and deep
[06:12.349]Then I dug down just barely and found cathedrals
[06:18.445]Here, a long guest in someone else's home
[06:25.190]I watch the islands over the water and wonder if maybe someday my daughter's grand-daughter will be old here, healed and grateful
[06:36.169]The flat fertile sea between these islands holds everything, like I try to
[06:46.790]Only ten thousand years ago there were meadows here
[06:50.032]A short two-day walk to what's now "Mainland", bison bones in the kelp
[06:56.958]
[07:02.978]Here, on this thin rind of spanning time, I laugh at myself and this scrap of identity scraped from the thinnest soil of recent history
[07:16.187]The few flashing decades of a hand-me-down homemade myth
[07:20.080]A few more boxes of disintegrating poetry books from a barely cohesive, mouse-eaten lineage of white hippy west coast seekers on this edge
[07:30.635]Trying to get perspective in the fog of America
[07:35.165]I shrug and laugh, and count myself in, I guess
[07:40.530]I kick and jump beyond this inheritance, this too-shallow view, from back to the land to Land Back
[07:49.977]
[08:03.692]One year, late spring, I went to a meditation retreat on a very quiet island nearby
[08:10.441]I arrived entangled in all these considerations:
[08:14.806]“Why to make a song?”
[08:16.744]“How to open the underworld?”
[08:18.461]And “Who’s thinking this, even?”
[08:21.226]And the weird, alienating, looming eerie blindspot of colonization
[08:27.068]The ignored and informative wound showing the way through
[08:31.253]The way the roots that held the tree down left a deep hole, now full of water reflecting sky
[08:41.103]I arrived, weighted with all this, with my backpack on the beach, one eye squinted, murmuring
[08:47.926]“Who do we think we are to be doing this here; now?”
[08:51.913]I wriggled, but still I stayed
[08:55.443]My precious skepticism got left there in the sand and I climbed the bluff into the woods and found my campsite
[09:05.364]Days passed in quiet demolition
[09:11.589]Gradually, I softened into the insane meditation schedule and noticed a relief like a sloughing off all the extra winter coats
[09:22.331]I slept a few sleep hours in total black, my tent loud with indecipherable night wind through the old forest
[09:32.907]I dreamed until a 3 A.M. demon with a headlamp and a wake-up bell stomped through and tore the veil
[09:43.905]Middle-of-the-night-mind still unformed, I shuffled through the salal in the dark toward the glowing womb window of the one-room cabin meditation hall, where I sat back down
[10:00.496]
[10:09.232]The iron of the wood stove cracks
[10:18.422]Coals chunking down
[10:25.253]First faint blue of day
[10:33.016]Breath slow, in and out
[10:40.988]Am I the ocean or in it?
[10:49.024]Single candle flame still
[10:56.158]Before the first bird and sun fingers through
[11:03.529]One hot iron crack snaps
[11:13.042]Soft rain begins