WHY HELLO THERE

thelaurenfield:

“Roll Away Your Stone”  |  Mumford & Sons

Still one of my favorites on this album. Can’t wait for the next one!

THIS SONG. just. the stomping. so. amazing. 

there’s this band that I really love. they’re called The Civil Wars. and I’ve basically been obsessing over their album since last April.

yes. it has indeed been a year, and I’m still not at all remotely tired of their music. they’re sort of a mix between indie/bluegrass/jazz/folk/country with just their voices and a guitar or a piano on hand - the kind of album that you’d listen to on a train - the album that I have listened to on the train from ottawa to toronto and toronto to ottawa. 

they came to Montreal late last year, but I wasn’t able to go mainly because it fell on my reading week (so the omg-so-many-essays-to-write-ima-die week) and I had decided to come home. so imagine my complete and utter JOY (haha. see what I did there?) when I checked their tour dates and found out their going to be in Paris at the same time I’m in Paris.

and then imagine my reaction when I find out that tickets were only 14 euro. which is about 20 dollars. and to top it all off, they had just released a single with Taylor Swift - so I knew they’d be a headliner at some insane hipster music festival pretty soon. sure enough, a few weeks after Safe and Sound came out and when the Hunger Games started getting some following, the Civil Wars began their inevitable route down awesomness lane.  

I knew it was going to happen eventually, and I’m glad their music is finally being appreciated by the world over. but that still didn’t stop me from snickering a bit when I bought my ticket. why? because it’s finally happened for me too. 

I FINALLY HAVE THE CHANCE TO SEE AN ARTIST AT A REASONABLE PRICE AND IN A SMALLER SETTING AND NOT BE RESTRICTED BY AGE AND UNIVERSITY. 

because of the two above factors, I’ve already missed Mumford & Sons TWICE, Ingrid Michaelson, Joshua Radin, Maria Taylor, and City and Colour.  

BUT THE CIVIL WARS IS MINE. 

THEN. a few days ago when I got an email saying that due to a very serious illness in one of the band member’s families, they were postponing the European shows starting from March 26. 

well, that’s fine. family comes first. and in any case, they were coming to Paris on …

*checks calendar*

.. March 28?

okay, okay. they’re going to be posting the rescheduled dates next week. that’s okay, I have a chance as long as it’s in April. it’s fine. no big deal. 

NOPE. THEY’LL BE BACK IN EUROPE IN NOVEMBER. WHICH IS WHEN I’LL BE BACK IN THE GREAT WHITE NORTH. 

“hank, i didn’t see the harry potter on midnight of opening day like you did, but i went to see it last night with the yeti and we were sitting there, like, thirty minutes before it started and the theater was filling up and i was like, ‘i am so excited about the harry potter movie! i get to see luna lovegood and i’m gonna’ cry at the end.’ and then i really liked the movie because it was funny, but it was also sad, and it didn’t tell destructive lies about teenage sexuality like some other movies i’ve seen recently. and ron weasley has gotten so buff. i mean, hank, the movie was great, but the thirty minutes before the movie started was what i love about being a nerd. because nerds like us are allowed to be unironically enthusiastic about stuff. we don’t have to be like, ‘oh yeah, that purse is okay’ or like, ‘yeah, i liked that band’s early stuff.’ nerds are allowed to love stuff, like jump up-and-down-in-the-chair-can’t-control-yourself love it. hank, when people call people nerds, mostly what they’re saying is ‘you like stuff,’ which is just not a good insult at all. like, ‘you are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness.’”

(via effyeahnerdfighters)

and this is the moment I became obsessed with the show. everyone together now:
“MERLINNNNNNNNNNN” 

(Source: lindanguyen-, via yesthisiskiwi)

lostumbrellas 

WANTS. 

(via thelaurenfield)

a friend and I stuffed our faces with 4 different types of sushi, spring roles, dumplings, and this weird sesame seed dessert thing? all the while listening to a playlist that consisted of some old english pop songs sung in french, celine dion, a cheesy 90s ballad, a boy band, bruno mars, adele, and avril lavigne.

and we both felt right at home. apparently that’s what happens when you live in scarborough. harhar. 

it’s safe to say that I am definitely going back there again. 

*GRIN*

(Source: amabat-amare-timebat, via yesthisiskiwi)

where it’ll take me awhile to get myself up and outside my apartment. For any other, this really wouldn’t exactly qualify as a sort of problem being where I am, but I still find myself stuck in this probably self-imposed routine of comfortably resting in my own bubble. 

but then I will go outside, and never mind that my fingers are beginning to chill, the sky is this bright azure, and you can see how old the city is just by how the sun shines in that moment. like it’s removing all the dust from the air. and it’s in between the lapse of it becoming airborne and returning to its place in the cracks of the walls, or in that moment of the windows being thrown open, and of forgetting to hide when the light pierces your cornea that you see every indent and engraving, and sometimes the colour it used to be, or at least, should have been. 

and that’s when I think about who’s hand would scrap across the brick, or open the latch of the window. sometimes I think we forget that amidst the lingering knowledge of something important having occurred in the roundabout being crossed, the painting of a coronation, or the view from the top of museum (or hotel/gare/palace), there exists the smaller details of another crossing the same circular road, and the figures on the canvas having breathed the same air as its painters. the little things, and the people we have chosen not to remember, whether due to coincidence or the inevitability of becoming lost as one of the many creatures on this world, seem to overwhelm me on days like those. as though all the forgotten histories and faces I will never really know try to recall themselves into being - as I try to remember more than just years in my head, standing in some historically significant arena, making a picture in my head of large crowds and the roar of their voices. 

it’s at this point where I simultaneously berate myself for not getting up earlier (and then promising to do so the next weekend - an already failed attempt for those who know me) and not imagining something simpler, like the sunlight in the spring, tinted green, as it falls through trees along a boulevard.  

sunflowersandsearchinghearts:

Pinterest - Mason Jar and Sunflowers via Linda Healy

(via thelaurenfield)