the finches
six songs
( :finches: ) 2005

.. . "my home is wishing me away"

The first song begins and I feel to follow, gladly. Full of moments that brush the cheek, a kiss from the winds, a birds eye view of solitudes and kinships that come and go. With a slightly mournful string that dances a two step delicate strong harmonious sweet. How can Carolyn Pennypacker Riggs have such a voice as to dissolve away the surrounding gravity of ones own day-to-day to swiftly place the listener upon her winged back for a ride? Aaron Morgan accompanies Carolyn on guitar, which upon they both tenderly caress forth a simple intricate story like crisp autumn air. When I saw The Finches play live, I literally forgot myself completely. What a relief, a rare gift. This still occurs for me when listening to the cd. There are comforts to take and leave as we move along here to the front porch, there to the swing... out on the road, back to the kitchen, to have some tea. Our individual lives connected by the parallels that glide across our knowings. It's not really so lonely. We wonder of each other sometimes and then, honestly: "to look upon you and feel nothing, now that's a funny feeling .. . .now i command you to be a stranger unto me". It's ok - such truth doesn't hurt in a 'bleed to death' kind of way. It's soothing actually - like being unharnessed.

Maybe the mysteries and imaginings are even as clear and framed as windows, days maybe like moving from one room to the next. Carolyn assures, it's fine just as it all happens to be, especially with: "the going it was much too slow . .. and we thought we would never arrive . ..oh but somehow life picked up the pace . . .and faster than the time . .. we somehow survived." When listening to "The Last Song of 2003", I was reminded the coursing of my dreams, reawakened : "Everything happens on this morning ....finally the year for which we've waited. Everything happens on the evening.. . but not today".

It's ok.

hope :: (12.21.05)