Younger Than the Sun...

Sometimes my mind jumps into the past, landing on a specific point in time, thrown backwards by a certain song or by passing by a certain old place.

The present moment finds me sitting at my desk, highlighting passages on Foucault as my roommate argues with her father in the background. I am here and simultaneously, I have been transported by Van Morrison’s whining rendition of Into the Mystic, back in time to the summer in between my freshman and sophomore years of high school. It was my first show season with Ham, and I was spending a great deal of my time on my own thanks to my parent’s preoccupation with their divorce. I wore overalls non stop that summer and spent most evenings whipping around the New Hampshire seacoast in the passenger seat of crazy Anna’s Toyota corolla, trying parrot bay and Hawaiian punch and thinking myself dangerous, smoking pot and wondering weather or not I was high…in essence, feeling my freedom. It's funny how songs can move from the present moment, inciting specific emotions and oftentimes glossing over intricacies felt, focusing on one overall sentiment that we've associated with a specific time in our lives. God knows I wasn't all smiles and joyous rebelliousness during my Van Morrison summer, but i remember myself as such. Perhaps it is better that way.

And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home
And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it
I dont have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic