I'm always flattered when someone tells me a certain music artist reminds him/her of me. In fact, I hope anyone I say that to also feels what I feel when that happens: I feel special. That means that I'm on that person's mind when he's listening to that music. That means that I'm with him mentally and emotionally, even when I can't be with him physically. For me, that artist is then tagged with "Lauren," meaning that I instantly feel a connection with the song and song is instantly attached to me.
Beth sent me a song file a few weeks ago by Eisley. The first song I heard by them was "I Wasn't Prepared." It was one of the most beautiful songs I had heard in a long time, and I couldn't help but have the song on repeat for days. I asked Beth if it was oh kay with her if I bought the album (because we're both rather possessive over our individual music artists). She said that, actually, she had the album already. Beth then happily handed it over to me. Eisley is now with me when I walk to class, when I write here at Vox, when I drive with Mum to the store and even when I don't have any form of technology with me. Eisley just... is.
It's only once in a long while that I find a music artist that I truly connect with. I always feel cozy in my own, personal sanctuary when I listen to my music. I think that's why iPods made it so big. They're not just friends people can carry with them; they're the musical and artistic limbs of people. People, then in their own worlds, can express themselves to others, yet still remain in their own little worlds.
After I listened to the album for a while, I realized that I had another favorite, which is the one that appears in this entry. "Brightly Wound" is a song that really told a story for me. As much of an adult I try to be, my immaturity often peaks outside of what I should be and gets me in trouble. (More stories about that later.) When I played the song for my mom in the car this last week, she immediately turned to me and said, "Lauren, this is you." I knew what she meant. I really will never grow up. I'll never take on responsibility the way I should because of my tendancy to lean towards the imaginary-- the dreamy. I don't mind though. If you ask me, everyone else in the adult world is missing out. I like this make-believe world I'm in.
Side note 1: The brushes used in the image above were not created by me. I used brushes from another source.
Side note 2: I wrote this entry late last night, at about 2 a.m., I believe. It's amazing how the mind wanders at such late hours. I didn't feel like making it public until today.