Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Of Quartzes


Crests aren’t always made of special settings, but they can be an accumulation of certain experiences. For that reason, I’m trying to be very careful not to use Quartz as a place to put all those things that did not fit the others. But my main concern is to understand the events in the process of aging that had impact in me.

These are simple events that mark milestones in one’s life, and the way they were such a blast that to this day they reverberate as a crest inside me. These are crests I’ve made along the road, and with the people I’ve met.

It starts with a lot of tastes from my childhood, such as characters and songs from tv shows I used to watch and the artwork and soundtracks of games I used to play. It’s in the interests I’ve developed. The mechas and machineries. It’s the taste for World War II jeeps, tanks and airplanes. The joy of getting the toy I wanted or the failure in getting the last card to complete the book.

It is my silly childhood plays. It’s the imagination of my bedroom being african jungles in those rainy afternoons, or being awful at sports when I used to play with my first best friend, or the bike rides we used to do to explore the town around. It’s the things I used to do and that one day I realized it was in the past and I wasn’t doing them anymore.

It’s the friendships I’ve made, and every single people that has had direct and indirect influence in me. It’s in the bands I used to listen under my older brother’s influence, mainly punk rock, grunge bands. It’s in bands every one has recommended me during all my life. It’s in every taste that I’ve absorbed from others.

Quartzes are in the things that happened to me in my adolescence, that, no matter how simple they are, had a lot of impact. It’s the crushes and relationships, the first yes, the first kiss… the first reciprocal interest, the first contact with Amethysts. It’s in the nights of despair when I wasn’t prepared for the exam next day, or after a terrible romantic rejection. It’s the ecstasy of my first creative and intellectual success. It’s the first reprimand of an authority that is not coming from your parents (and aren’t doing it for your best).

It’s the lessons I learned, the responsibility that grows with age, the maturity I forced myself to earn. It’s the first time you find yourself alone and have to learn how to do it all by yourself. It’s the first time you have to make that choice that was hard to make, when you first notice your aging and you learn to enjoy your youth more.

Quartzes are in these feelings when life is analyzed, when it all comes together to the ending song when all themes are played. All the places I’ve been, all the tastes and spices I’ve known. The distant cityscapes at the horizons, the constellation of blinking night lights. The folklore tales and stories told by campfire or under streetlights with friends, or lonely walks in summer nights and cloudy winter days. All the light and dark feelings of love, all the nature to be enjoyed, all the pain for us to endure. Damn, that’s one powerful feeling. I can almost surely say it’s the longest musical quintessence I’ve felt.

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