dawson city memories

blurry adrienne
Originally uploaded by emilish.

Emily took this picture of me on Saturday night at the Dawson City Music Festival. She took a lot of pictures. Of me. And others, but lots of me. She was the self-appointed photo documentor of my trip to Dodge.

I like this photo because it looks what listening to music feels like to me. Except I feel it more in my chest and less in my eyes. But the blur, the movement, the people, the lights. All these things together. I think I'm smiling in this picture.

Today I loaded a bunch of music into iTunes, albums bought at the Festival from bands watched at the Festival. I waited awhile before doing it, not wanting to relegate music to memory, to RAM and catalogues. That would mean the experience is over, it is past. Which it is and I have moved on, but must all of me? Can I not continue to dream dreams of a nightless night? Can I not continue to superimpose the Yukon mountains over the buildings around me, the boardwalks over the concrete, dirt and gravel over asphalt. Only the sky remains the same, the sky that can go on forever. But there is always the angle of the sun, a dead giveaway when it comes to latitude.

I got an email from Saori today that made my heart twang. I miss my friends. While not completely ready to go home, I'm close. Close to ready.

David wrote me about returning from trips. How he used to store his bag and then walk to his mother's house, but not go in. How maybe he might extend his trip by going to Victoria, by wandering. Wondering what has changed: him, the places, everything, nothing. I am fairly confident I have changed.

Will I smell different?