What Vermont Sounds Like in September, Featuring My Only Talent

Honey, sunshine, apples, misty mornings and sweltering afternoons, colorful pens, picnic blankets. Laying on a huge outcropping of rock feeling the breeze blow by you, but still soaking up the last of the sunlight before it disappears behind the trees. Eyes closed. Adjustment. Peanut butter and banana toast. COFFEE. Walking around a city when it’s kind of empty and the sunlight is fading. A cold beach day.img_4273

A lot of people think writing can describe everything. And I can attest to that, to an extent. But language, as much as I am fascinated by it, is so limiting. Only the best writers can evoke feelings unable to be described. But musicians can, sometimes even without words. Any musician, with a heart and capacity to breathe. Making playlists for me is a form of organizing my emotions, like a creative vessel of therapy. It also creates an escape- I can go back to this space, this September, and recall what I was feeling, what my world looked like, smells and images. I remember what it felt like to be me at a given point in time.

I figure most people do not understand why music does this for me. Growing up has just been me being shocked time and again that people do not think the same way as me. Part of me wants to believe that everyone has music on repeat in their head. And when people ask me how I manage to remember 97% of song lyrics from everything I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what to tell them. My mind absorbs this kind of information. And it kind of feels stupid, like I should have a better talent. My only truly, naturally successful job path in life is to be one of those people that picks songs for movies. And even then, there’s a lot of corporate debate in that. But maybe I would like that? I don’t know.

Until then, I’ll just keep blending sounds together to make them vaguely resemble a place in time. Some people are really good at keeping diaries. Mine are playlists.

And compliments like “you just played the perfect music for that car ride,” or “your Soundcloud playlist is fire,” will always unintentionally speak to that place inside me that knows that this talent is special. And “that mixtape you made me was amazing, can you make me another?” – that is a question I will never tire of hearing.