The radio was on and that was the first time I heard that song, the one I hate. Whenever I hear it all I can think of is that very day riding in the front seat with Lucy leaning against me and the smell of Juicy Fruit making me want to throw up. How can a song do that? Be like a net that catches a whole entire day, even a day whose guts you hate? You hear it and all of a sudden everything comes hanging back in front of you, all tangled up in that music.
Interpretation
The quote reflects how music can evoke powerful memories, both good and bad, associated with past experiences and loved ones.
This quote by Lynda Barry captures the profound impact that music can have on our emotions and memories. It highlights how a particular song can serve as a time capsule, bringing back vivid recollections of moments we have shared with others, even if those moments are not fond. The mention of the disliked song and the specific details about the day and person involved intensifies the emotional connection, illustrating how our experiences are intertwined with the music that defines them.
In practice
I shared this quote with my friends during a discussion about how certain songs remind us of past relationships.
In my writing class, we never, ever talk about the writing - ever. We never address a story that's been read. I also won't let anyone look at the person who's reading. No eye contact; everybody has to draw a spiral. And I would like to do a drawing class where we could talk about anything except for the drawing. No one could even mention it.
When you start to think of the arts as not this thing that is going to get you somewhere in terms of becoming an artist or becoming famous or whatever it is that people do, but rather a way of making being in the world not just bearable, but fascinating, then it starts to get interesting again.
The groove is so mysterious. We're born with it and we lose it and the world seems to split apart before our eyes into stupid and cool. When we get it back, the world unifies around us, and both stupid and cool fall away. I am grateful to those who are keepers of the groove. The babies and the grandmas who hang on to it and help us remember when we forget that any kind of dancing is better than no dancing at all.
The minute you understand racism, you're responsible for being racist. It's like eating from the tree of knowledge.
I believe a kid who is playing is not alone. There is something brought alive during play, and this something, when played with, seems to play back.
Playing and fun are not the same thing, though when we grow up we may forget that and find ourselves mixing up playing with happiness. There can be a kind of amnesia about the seriousness of playing, especially when we played by ourselves.
And you will remember that love is not getting, but giving; not a wild dream of pleasure, and a madness of desire — oh no, love is not that — it is goodness, and honour, and peace, and pure living — yes, love is that; and it is the best thing in the world, and the thing that lives longest.
You know that first love that leaves you? You never forget that, especially if you're a songwriter. I must have gotten nine songs out of that girl.
There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.
I loved what I did. I remember cruel mothers who would pinch their children to make them cry in a scene, but my mother encircled me with affection.
My judges preach against free love openly, practice it secretly.
Then all this became history. Your hand found mine. Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot. Oh, my carpenter, the fingers are rebuilt. They dance with yours.
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