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Shannon Rankin. Heart.
...

because i can't find the words to accurately describe how i feel.

(or rather) because i don't even know what i am feeling.

because right now:thursday: i am one day closer to reuniting with my family.

because i didn't leave my house today and now i feel like i am suffocating. seriously.

because in 2 months i will be on my own, 400 miles away from what i know and love. off to discover more to know and love.

because even though i am an individual, my heart and soul still wants to dance with yours.

because even though my heart and soul wants to dance with yours, i am still an individual.

because i can only hold on to so much.

because the world is so ridiculously beautiful sometimes. i really can't handle it.

(and also) because the little things still make me cry.

because there will be more front doors to enter. and more hands to be held. and more stars to be searched for. and more eyes to be memorized.

"(just) because i'm losing, doesn't mean i'm lost"

because being human is universal.

because some songs will never get old.

because of arms.

because of how i feel when i stand next to mountains. (and for why i want to climb them).

because understand is so much more valuable than conquer.

...

to: existing.

oh, the places i will go...

possibilities in snow

....

somehow i know i've been to them all ready

i've memorized the shape of trees and the patterns in the sidewalk

the number of steps it will take to reach a front door

and the scent. the feel. the tendency. the mood of air.

i know that when i get to these places

the air will loosen,

i will enter,

and then it will gather towards me and secure itself.

until i become ready to move along.

until i sculpt out another mold.

(until the air grows tired.

until it weakens.

until i begin to float.)

8 years old and i remember seeing myself in places.

places. s. never stationary. always moving.

and yet i have always lived here.

small journeys lasting no longer than a month. China. Italy. France. the Navajo nation.

falling asleep in unfamiliar cities. awaking and walking through streets.

collecting leaves. and navigating corners. talking to store clerks. experiencing sunsets.

but home has always been here.

conversations are internalized. i hit the rewind button before i close my eyes.

i struggle to take it in. i look around me often,

as if it will disappear.

but it is disappearing.

where does the time go?

(soundscapes:

the tick of a clock in the distance.

outside. i can hear cars traversing 3 blocks away.

the wood floors are adjusting themselves.

somehow the silence has a richness.

a heavy cargo its ready to retire.

i can relate to that.)

i can relate to that.

the thickness of silence. so weighty it isn't silent anymore.

and then you're ready to go to sleep.

you're afraid of what it carries. what it has to. needs to say.

so you sleep. and somehow it reveals itself in dreams.

and it never really shocked you because you had an idea of what it would speak already.

despite foreign. unfamiliar. alien.

i will still have:

the color of the moon. the inescapable wind.

the existence of air. and the feeling of the ocean on my feet.

and the hope for rain.

...

to: recognizing (and appreciating) my constants in hopes of understanding (and appreciating) my variables.

right now: ponderings

my world through a kaleidoscope.

....

right now:

(lacks transition and fluidity, but it is real nonetheless).

the urge to have a heart to heart remains.

music makes life glisten

i can't bring myself to say the things i really want to say.

.

and now the days pass quickly. the future is nearing (rapidly).

........

to: what the world looks like through my kaleidoscope.

 and how one instant can change everything.

and to what i'll feel in 3 days.

and to your hands because they've held clouds and sprouted flowers and have released|captured|delivered butterflies. they've cupped oceans of tears. and oceans of love. and they are an atlas to your past present and future. perhaps they've met (will meet) mine and we could cradle clouds and birth flowers and house butterflies together. hand in hand.

what the world offers: part ii

what the world offers part II

IV.

Hands holding hearts,

faces, souls. the warmth

of hands reviving the sore.

and in the palm a map

of how each soul connects.

V.

Gravity. a force that pulls

but keeps me mobile.

i find ways to defy it. 

falling. dropping. floating.

But it endures. love.

VI.

Moon peeking out from behind

the sky's drapes. only visible

because the set sun shares

its light. watching us.

guarding sleepers

right now: a reflection

...

it is a strange feeling to have been so excited for something for so long

and then as it finally nears and the prospect of it actually happening is so real

that you begin to sink into a sea of fear and confusion.

questions like

why did i put this off for so long?

will it ever feel the same?

will it ever be the same?

will everything fall apart?

i find myself looking around more often than i ever have before. taking it in. noticing:

how the entry way from the dining room to the kitchen to the hallway to my parents room looks and how it lines up and the spectrum of shadows. the colors of that lamp. the paintings in the dining room. the flaws in the wood floors. the lines in their face. the colors in their eyes. hands. how the face contorts to smile.

i have so much lying ahead of me the next few months. but i have really done nothing for the past month. and i've noticed:

my sleeping patterns are parallel to my cats. the house cools down when everyone is asleep. how i've become afraid to answer the door. i don't paint anymore. my piano is out of tune. no matter how many times i tell myself to wake up early and watch the sunrise i still wake up no earlier than 10:30 (this is sad).

i finished a book called the perks of being a wallflower two days ago. and since then all i feel like doing is reading.

...

rain

it was so dry.

she looked at her hands and they were ashy and white.

"is it really this dry?", she thought.

it hasn't rained in. she can't remember.

she does remember, though, when the heat would set with the sun.

the nights would be cool. and lively. couples would pull each other towards one another. body heat.

now. the sun sets but the heat lingers.

it settles in corners and surfaces.

cats find tile to lie on. but even that feels warm.

people avoid touching.

she turns out all the lights.

sleep.

but she can't sleep. she isn't tired. her heart is. and her mind is. but her eyes and her mouth and her hands need.

she turns on her night lamp and grabs a book. she handles it with force. touch.

her eyes are wide (and sore) and she is inspecting every word carefully.

her mouth is dry. it needs to speak. it hasn't spoken. spoken. in so long.

she reads the words out loud.

the air is piercing her eyes now. it is too painful.

she closes her eyes. the book. her hands. and she breathes.

the silence is frightening.

she misses the rain.

she imagines the rain is falling outside and it helps her fall asleep.

The Bucket List

Bucket List .1

. hitchhike. (this one might not happen, just because who knows how safe it is. but it seems fantastic!)

. go to where Alexander Supertramp spent his final days.

. be on Jeopardy! (this one might not happen either...)

. get stuck in an elevator with strangers.

. learn the cello and the violin and the guitar and the accordion.

. climb to the top of a mountain

. look into a volcano

. buy a grand piano

. visit every Bahai House of Worship on ever continent

. perfect my pie crust

. make my own clothes

. make the best halloween costumes ever for my children

. live in the country

. grow a garden

. get in my car and just drive somewhere. anywhere.

. live in France.

. fly to the moon. seriously.

. buy a press so i can do printmaking forever.

. go back to Yueyang.

. name my daughter Autumn.

. write a children's book.

. have a high-ceilinged library so i can have ladders on wheels! and big comfy chairs. i can see it now.

. become a vegetarian

. See these concerts: Radiohead. Broken Social Scene. Coachella. Joni Mitchell.

. Maine.

. Go on Pilgrimage again. hopefully with my future family.

. finish learning Bach's Prelude in C major

. finish learning the rest of the Amelie songs on the piano

. wake up my kids at 7 am and drive them to disneyland. like my mom used to. best surprise ever!

. send a message in a bottle.

. fly in a hot air balloon.

. really become fluent in French. and Farsi.

. write a screenplay. or a book. or both

. run a marathon and a triathlon

. take a train from china to india.

. visit central park in autumn. and in spring.

. see Andy Goldsworthy's work first-hand.

.... so many more!

how the Butterflies in 10,000 stomachs flew Together.

if i were to try to describe this evening i would be unable to find words remotely accurate.

think: Unreal. Phenomenal. True. Unbelievable. Moving. Majestic. Perfect. Priceless: but all these are inaccurate.

Tonight. i was in the presence of greatness.

To think of how i got here. to think of how someones music could bring me here. is to truly believe i have a soul. because something surely is ascending.

.

Getting Here.

the wait was unreal. imagine waiting for something you are so unbelievably excited to witness. and then as it nears, your anticipation increases to the point where you don't even want this Thing to happen because its beginning would only precede its end. and the thought of that is heartbreaking.

As the show started I became more accepting of the fact that this would end. for a few reasons: i couldn't wait to see how i would feel after this. i was ready for something to knock me off my feet. i was in need of something to pick me up and cradle me and this music does it best.

i won't describe every moment of the concert to you but i will offer this.

things i experienced/realized/felt/witnessed/cried about/miracles:

• i gained an official set list from a random security guard. (fulfilling half of g's daydream)
• chris noticed all of us singing along on Lost and when he heard us he stopped everything and sighed. he said, 'that was so fulfilling can we please do that again?" they backed it up and we all sang together again. AHHH
• he forgot his lyrics twice. it was real and human and beautiful and i loved him even more.
• they ran up to the nose bleed section to sing yellow. all of them. together. drums. guitar. tambourine. and vocals. as tears streamed we noticed the two grown men on each side of us crying too. it was arresting. this is why they are amazing. who has ever done this?!
• i felt completeness.
• in regards to tonight's audience: chris says, "now i'm going to tell you guys something we really mean, sincerely, but i'm going to say it in a the language of starbucks so i hope that it doesn't diminish in significance. guy was explaining to me the difference between tonight's and last night's audience and why he thinks this one is better and he says 'i think last night's audience was a grande, and tonight's is definitely a venti." AMAZING
• they have their first encore and i'm thinking this couldn't get any better.
• and then it did.
• the butterflies that were undoubtedly flying in all of our stomachs somehow flew out and the entire stadium was filled with glowing butterflies. magic.
• they finished their (first) encore and i had to get to the front. so i walk up to the section in front of ours and ask the guard, "can i pick up those butterflies?" he allows. then g comes to join and i start to beg and plead "can we please go to the front? you have no idea how big of a fan i am?! please they are my favorite! i love them so much!" he replies, "you can stay here." pointing to where i'm standing. g tells me to stop asking him. and as he turns around to answer someones questions g grabs my arm and we run to the front. 
• we are standing SO close to them. SO CLOSE! and they are playing my favorite song off the new album, Death and All His Friends.
• at first i can't stop smiling. my cheeks are in so much pain. i haven't smiled like this in a very long time. g later informed that the man standing next to me looked over at me and as a result smiled. that's how big my smile was. how wide my eyes were. how enchanted my heart was. all of a sudden tears were streaming down my face and i was shaking. i have dreamed of being this close to them for so long. i had doubted if they were real until now. incredible does exist.
• to be amidst 10, 000 people at to all feel the same thing and to all cry and scream and sing together is a taste of unity. and that's what happened tonight. and there was no better soundtrack to experience this to. 

(you may be reading this and think "its just Coldplay. its just a band. its just a concert. its just music." but. no. it isn't. its SO much more. and i hope that someday you will experience what i have just felt and still feel.)

"no i don't want a battle from beginning to end

i don't want a cycle of recycled revenge

i don't want to follow Death and all of his friends"

-Coldplay