There is a certain type of woman that a certain school of songwriters have spent their lives writing verse & melody about, hoping that somewhere they will hit the right intersection of line & note, and bring a smile to her lips. When writing about any fair maiden, there is a strong temptation to imagine her as being a manifestation of this She, our own personal gateway into a world hinted and suggested through a lifetime of song. In doing so, I wonder if we end up projecting an impossible burden on the unsuspecting girl in question, convincing ourselves that they really are a living version of this immaculate entity. I suspect that while the answer is yes, the temptation is too strong and we do it anyway. Through scattered instances of a girl showing off a wistful smile, or even having that special something in her step, one gets glimpses at facets of this carefully constructed She. One need only consult one's CD rack to find out what happens after that.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Build me a woman
"Eyes alight with glowing hair / All that fancy paints as fair"
There is a certain type of woman that a certain school of songwriters have spent their lives writing verse & melody about, hoping that somewhere they will hit the right intersection of line & note, and bring a smile to her lips. When writing about any fair maiden, there is a strong temptation to imagine her as being a manifestation of this She, our own personal gateway into a world hinted and suggested through a lifetime of song. In doing so, I wonder if we end up projecting an impossible burden on the unsuspecting girl in question, convincing ourselves that they really are a living version of this immaculate entity. I suspect that while the answer is yes, the temptation is too strong and we do it anyway. Through scattered instances of a girl showing off a wistful smile, or even having that special something in her step, one gets glimpses at facets of this carefully constructed She. One need only consult one's CD rack to find out what happens after that.
There is a certain type of woman that a certain school of songwriters have spent their lives writing verse & melody about, hoping that somewhere they will hit the right intersection of line & note, and bring a smile to her lips. When writing about any fair maiden, there is a strong temptation to imagine her as being a manifestation of this She, our own personal gateway into a world hinted and suggested through a lifetime of song. In doing so, I wonder if we end up projecting an impossible burden on the unsuspecting girl in question, convincing ourselves that they really are a living version of this immaculate entity. I suspect that while the answer is yes, the temptation is too strong and we do it anyway. Through scattered instances of a girl showing off a wistful smile, or even having that special something in her step, one gets glimpses at facets of this carefully constructed She. One need only consult one's CD rack to find out what happens after that.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment