I Swear I Can Hear The Sea: a spring/summer mix

This mix tells a story. Indulge me, if you will, by imagining that this story is true...

The sun rises out of the void once again. The morning rays slide down over the glass and concrete and land on tar and gasoline. All the people walk out of their homes and climb into cars. They converge on the highways and sit together in traffic. You wonder how it all happens - the fellowship of the commuters, the coffee-fueled consciousness, the voices on the radio, even your final destination - none of it feels like a decision you made.

Suddenly, but subtly, you feel a pull in your stomach. You notice how striking the sun is in the early eastern sky. Images of the distant places where the sun is directly overhead flood your mind. The sound of waves rushing through piles of rocks and sand begin to echo inside your little sedan.

But these images are different from the ones that you have set as your desktop wallpaper on your work computer. Those are just crappy pictures from your last vacation. They are Corona commercials. But this pull in your stomach is something else. It is the feeling that life is passing away and all the things you fill your time with are worthless. The work you do is so that you will have money, but what does money get you? Instead, there are boulders to climb, trails to hike, oceans to swim, food to eat, and roads to drive. Roads that aren't filled with exhaust and screeching tires, but ones that are open and filled with wind.

So you keep driving. Past your exit. Past your office. Out of the city. Toward that ocean that you crave.

You drive for hours and each passing mile brings fleeting feelings of freedom. Your white button-down is thrown in the passenger seat, the starched collar is finally starting to wiggle in the wind. The seat belt is irritating your bare shoulder, but you ignore it. Midday and afternoon pass by as you drink in the freedom. You don't have to answer to anybody. You are your own man.

The white lines whiz by like a constant echo for hours until you reach the end of the road. And there it is. The ocean sits ahead like eternity. You think the blue is the most beautiful color you've ever seen.

Once you've parked the car and taken off your shoes, you make your way toward the tide. You think you must be in a good place now. You dive in the water and feel all the sweat wash off. Surely this is what Tennyson meant when he said he would drink life to the lees. Surely this is what Thoreau had in mind when he commanded you to suck out all the marrow of life.

But just as quickly as the sweat washed off, a hesitation creeps in. You realize that you are alone. You realize the green in her eyes is the most beautiful color, not the blue of the water. You miss your dog. And who will water your tomato plants at home?

So you make your way back to your car. You brush the sand off your feet and turn back toward the rolling hills. You decide to let your dreams be your escape. At least for a while. And you hope that she lets you come home.

1. Go Outside / Cults
2. Legal Man / Belle & Sebastian
3. Grown Ocean / Fleet Foxes
4. Sweet Thing / Van Morrison
5. Golden / My Morning Jacket
6. Louisiana / The Walkmen
7. Sometimes / James
8. Paint The Silence / South
9. Gentle, Polite / Eric & Magill
10. Victoria's Secret / Quiet Village
11. Feel It All Around / Washed Out
12. Zadie Bobo / Ernesto Djédjé
13. Round And Round / Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti
14. Sun Hands / Local Natives
15. Modern Girl / Sleater-Kinney
16. Kanske Ar Jag Kar I Dig / Jens Lekman
17. The Swimming Song / Loudon Wainwright III
18. California Sunrise / Dirty Gold
19. I Must Be In A Good Place Now / Bobby Charles
20. Let Me Come Home / Wilco

Download the full mix here.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...


Good writing! I visualize the scene as I read the words. I keep saying to keep writing!!!!