Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Just A Country Girl At Heart
When I was little my daddy drove a blue pick up truck. I was a city girl. So when we ran to get gas one morning (I was maybe 4 or 5) I told him I hoped no one saw us or "they might think we're from the country." True story.
I grew up on country music. As a teen I moved into pop and hip hop. I still can listen to good hip hop, the kind that is more like raw poetry, til the cows come home. But I taught G to love country music. To appreciate our roots.
I have always turned to music when I need to work through something. It's just been my way. When I'm sad I will sit up for hours singing music, sometimes to G (he likes to sit and listen to me sing, God bless him), but sometimes like now, just to the universe.
And it's usually country. "Life's like a novel with the end ripped out." Touche Rascal Flatts. I feel my roots deep in country music, and while some is a bit of a cliche, you can't top it for true variety of story and emotion.
So right now? It's nearly 3 a.m. and I am singing my heart out. Pouring it into songs because finding my own sadness is a bit too overwhelming right now. I know I'll get there, but I'm not ready to confront it yet. Instead I'm choosing to sing at night, and find beauty during the day.
So I feel like taking a drive up in northern MD, to where our CSA's farm grows fields of delicious local food. Where dirt roads can be explored. Where I can walk through tall grasses and breathe in the blue skies. I don't know if it's how I grew up, playing outside, or more my dna, but I always feel best in the wide open, with my hands in dirt. And county music blaring in the sunshine.
at 2:55 AM