Et · cetera · Et · cetera

Today I woke up from a dream in which I owned a mountain and really liked to listen to The Cranberries. I sat at the peak wearing a cape and sunglasses and holding a birthday cake. You know, The Cranberries are kind of good.

I'm having the time of my life. I don't know what happened. I don't know what happened but all of a sudden the people around me turned into beautiful echoes of what I've been searching for - little pieces of that "thing" that fills me with light. Lately I want to run around aimlessly for hours listening to Death From Above and I want to plant a garden and grow some tomatoes and I want to read every book I can find about mermaids and fairies and I want to stay up all night reading Cosmo with AliRae and I want to cook dinner for all of my friends and I want to paint pictures of space and I want to surprise people with the things that make them happy and I want to wake up in the morning and have conversations about God and love and I want to have picnics in harsh weather conditions and I want to learn to be a good human before robots take over the Earth. So I'm going to do all of these things.

People should do what they want to do more often.

Goodnight moon (sun?).

Rest up in the gentle sway.

My heart and my brain were two magnets - the kinds that don't get along. But then I turned them around and they were drawn to one another, a link of great strength. And then a giant beam of light shone from my insides and an ironically epic tune began to play and boast words of being the sun (the only one) and drawing it all close to me (the moon and the sea). I think it was also raining when all of this happened...

Anyway. I am completely and utterly clichely "excited to live". I'm excited to live in all sorts of new places; I'm excited to fall in love (more than once, repeatedly, all the time); I'm excited to make songs of imaginary genres (i.e. Icelandic Mid-Fi Post-Rock Dancepop); and I'm excited to loooooove. It's all just really beautiful, and I don't know how it's possible for me to fail to remember that sometimes. I don't think I'll every forget again.

(I think Lady Joseph has been telling me these secrets in my sleep).

Dear LiveJournal,
I'm exercising my heart so it will be strong.

Love Brette

Today I realized that I know nothing. I walk around finding everything familiar and comfortable only relying on the false knowledge someone once gave me that it will all remain. As a human I dwell on the fine line instead of defining it; I love the world; and I fear what I don't know when in actuality I should be fearing normalcy itself.

The other day I met an old man who turns old license plates into dustpans. After striking up a conversation with me he went all the way back to his house to get some of his work to bring back and show me. He was so proud as he spoke, and every time I showed intrigue in his words I saw his face light up so bright that it warmed me all over. I want to be more like him. I want to find happiness in the simplicity of making something as (in)significant as a license plate dustpan or in the (un)common smile of a stranger.

"you are what you love and not what loves you back"

Today was the best day of the summer season. Long car rides, beautiful tunes, a crystal river, green trees and big rocks, sprinklers and swimming pools, new freckles, and an intimate yet luminous house show with my best friends - all of my favorite things. Everything seems so dead to me lately and I feel the incessant need to prove I'm alive, even if its only to myself. Playing music makes me feel alive, and untainted nature makes me feel alive, and the fact that my heart has a mind of its own makes me feel alive.

So I'll let it love what it loves. That way I'll know I'm still living.
Everything is beautiful here through the right telescope.

I think about the world too much. I spend too much time thinking about things that make me sad that I can't change. I fall into ruts full of wars and ignorance and worldly obsession and greed and jealousy and superficiality and hunger and broken hearts. I get discouraged because I don't know how to remedy a lost cause. I can't help but feel that my latest "comfort" will soon be gone.



If you love something give it away.

Let's run away together. We'll earn our living through the beaded necklaces we make and the music we create as we travel the globe. We'll live where the roads are made of water because that way our footprints can't be traced. We'll find shelter in abandoned castles by the sea, one-room apartments, and gondolas - it doesn't really matter since we're on tour and won't stay in any one place two nights in a row. We won't need a fancy hotel, or transportation, or a schedule. We'll simply begin each day by looking out the window, measuring the sun, and dressing appropriately. We'll put on our clothes and we'll sing songs and we'll make beats and notes and we'll go swimming and we'll walk and we'll talk and we'll watch and we'll listen. We'll voyage and find adventure in tulip fields and magical forests and we'll cuddle with baby animals on beds made of clouds in between our sets. We'll eat a lot of peanut butter because peanut butter is the ultimate food for musicians on the run. We'll meet a lot of people - some of these people will want to play music with us, some of them will try to rain on our parade, and some of them will give us more peanut butter. We'll play music that's beautiful and moving and dainty and loud and noisy and angry and happy and sad. And we'll set out not to find anything but rather to see everything.


So do you wanna or no?

We will become a happy ending





And I wondered if the sky was just a ceiling
And you wondered if the ground was just a floor

Arts 'n crafts while watching a movie Monday
Hirons Drug and photobooth Tuesday
Wednesday Night Movie Hoppers Club
Pop song and poem Thursday
Homecoming Friday
Saturday Adventure
Sunday Repose

Old freestanding bathtubs are better than showers
(especially when there are orange kitties in them)

The world is sad. However I can't tell if it's just my world that's sad, or if a lens has been placed in front of my eyes that makes the world appear sad. Or if discovering that the world is sad is another depressing part of growing up, or if it's all just a sign that the world is ending (because I'd be pretty sad too if I knew I were ending). And which is the correct way of looking at the world: as though I'm everything (through my own skewed lens) or as though I am nothing (through everyone else's skewed lens)? I sometimes wonder if I can handle a lifetime of seeing people with broken hearts, or sickness, or loneliness, or confusion, or "failure".

But on a lighter note, I am pleased to announce that although I had my doubts, I think The Little Mermaid is a completely plausible tale (or tail if you're feeling punny).

Places I'd rather be.

In this forest because it covers nearly 17% of the Earth's land surface. That's a lot of trees, and I like trees.


In this tulip field because it seems great.


In my old room because it's not the same anymore.


On this stage with these people.


Living here because I've been thinking about it a lot and I think I want to.


Or maybe just in Jonny Greenwood's sweet, sweet arms.

"How convenient" I thought as my jetpack connected with the piano space station above the night sky.

But with these nights comes turbulence.

Won't you take me to the 24th floor
where the air is clear and I can see
the sun rising in the East?
I'll swing my feet recklessly
over the railing of the balcony
as you kiss me goodbye,
as you kiss me goodbye.

This weekend I drove home with my best friends, ate some pizza, played some music in the garage, was greeted with a gathering of more best friends congregated in a single driveway, drove to Portland and took all of them with me, found my other best friend, played a show and sang some songs, had some fun times in the front yard, met some new people, became one among a crowd, belted out some more songs, danced a little, and found some sort of "peace". We're all in a giant womb waiting to be born. And since my current state of life embracing makes me feel invincible, I think that what comes next is an indescribable euphoria beyond human comprehension. This is why I don't fear death.

One time I trusted a stranger
'cause I heard his sweet song
And it was gently enticing me
though there was something wrong
When I turned he was gone

Blinding me his song remains reminding me
he's a bandit and a heartbreaker
Oh but Jesus was a crossmaker

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww'.

And the best days are the ones that leave your ears ringing like a lullaby as you fall asleep.

Tidbits of my current mind
Those who have eyes to see know that their bulk is less in the part than in the whole. And I know that my soul is the better part of me, because it animates the whole of my body. It gives it life, and this is something that no body can give to another body.

Raisins are just humiliated grapes, but oddly enough craisins are improved versions of their former selves.

Stars are dead but keep on living
because no one's told them they've died

Sun kissed
I missed
your lips
here we are
looking at the sky
taking sips
of each other's eyes

I feel more pride in the guitar playing-induced blister on my index finger than in the hours of homework I just completed.

Wing-tipped and blue
First question first and the second 1 2
I'll sing the summer wind songs in summer
I'll sing the winter wind songs in winter

Apple juice reminds me of home so I drink it even if it's old.

Since their original nature had been cut in two, each one longed for its own other half and stayed with it. They threw their arms round each other, weaving themselves together, wanting to form a single living thing.


And I sometimes wish I was in Jenny Lewis' shoes.

don't look down.

The wind is ever faithful and it carves a solemn sword
Right through the hearts of the ungrateful who are always wanting more
There is a way, there is a way that you can help me
With the ramparts built so high
All the soldiers stuck inside
But this will fall away with time
If you promise to be kind

Being young's romantic, and I have an inexplicable urge to kiss the world hard on the face. I don't mind getting lost in it, nor do I mind not being able to call what I want in it my own. I don't mind being surrounded by busy people and the imaginations of the naive, nor do I mind the perpetual song stuck in my head. I don't mind not knowing where I'm going, nor do I mind not knowing what my dreams mean. But jelly beans on the ferris wheel; perspective and youth simultaneously - that sounds nice.

There's a woman who calls herself an objectsexual.
She's in love and "married" to the Eiffel Tower... Her breakup with her archery bow didn't end so well, but at least they're still friends, as awkward as things probably are between them and all.

That strange tidbit aside, I get to play piano before LAKE performs their beauty in sound, which is totally rad. I have a feeling that this is going to be the best Spring Break ever.

Oh, also. I had another movie dream last night, only I was mostly an observer - an audience member if you will. Having to say "I love you" in French somehow came up, but the stupid character in my dream didn't do it properly and the girl he was saying it to looked kind of shocked... I think he may have made a language mistake. Like when someone isn't very rehearsed in a language and then they go to a foreign country and instead of saying "where's the cafe" they accidentally make an embarrassing sexual reference. Anyway, I wanted to learn how to say "I love you" in French so that my subconscious would help the poor guy out just in case he reappears in my dreams and sees his lady friend again.

So here's how:
Step 1. Find the person you love.
Step 2. Say his or her name.
Step 3. Say je t'aime.
Step 4. Optional- follow with "my darling".
(To a woman = ma cherie, to a man = mon cheri).

I bet the aforementioned lady with the object fetish has these steps down pretty well... heh?

"Why not?"
"Because of God."

Raspberry shampoo, roses in the accordion of the city bus, salt water inlets connecting us to the ocean, standing all alone in a black coat and a gray scarf, growing next to my window as the rain hits the glass, ladybugs as big as birds, perception vs. perspective, a single red lantern, a single red balloon, a single red tongue, pretty boy-girl vocals, late summer evenings, freckles on my knees, freckles on my lips, a red car taking me to the city, a red train taking me to the world, toothpaste tea, things kids don't know yet, things kids know but adults misplace, the lost and found of misplaced knowledge, things I know that you don't, things you know but aren't saying, saying everything, gummy bear armies, the armies that existed before armies existed, multiple universes, black holes as umbilical cords, black holes as black holes leading to white holes leading to black holes, the sun as a (w)hole, the instruments aliens play to make stars dance, bodies as instruments, bodies as machines, bodies as inefficient machines, garage bands having love and then traveling, dreams in French that aren't actually in French because I don't speak French thus making them dreams in a made-up language (luckily there are subtitles), people who come in and out of each others lives only to realize they are in love, perpetual patterns, giving you all I have to give once that steamboat whistle blows.

For a second there I thought you disappeared.