I’ve been making heavy use of the rotation feature on my music apps lately. I have a tendency of finding the most amazing music, and then having the same playlist on repeat for months on end. Almost obsessively. I mean if it’s good, it’s good, right?
Then one day I will wake up feeling like I might most certainly punch a wall if I have to listen to certain songs one more time. So I drift, often in a completely new musical direction. And that’s how I end up stumbling on the best new music. That’s the creative process for my carefully -curated playlists.
Recently, my ennui has taken me to Denmark 🇩🇰, where I discovered CHINAH. I don’t know how best to categorise them, but I would classify them as a folk band with a pop leaning coupled with electronic and classical contemporary sounds. It’s a delightful mix.
The sounds of Chinah are mellow and frosty. It’s a very minimalist sound over a rich instrumental. There is an almost eerie feel to their music. You find yourself listening for hours on end, thinking about some long-suppressed past. It’s haunting and engaging- draws you in and holds you and before you know it, you have the entire EP on repeat for a couple of hours when you really only wanted to listen to one song. It’s melancholic but pithy, and just the sort of thing you need for winter blues.
Listen to the rest of the EP. It’s very ” Sunday-afternoon-in-bed-watching-the-grey-sky-from-your-bedroom-and-ruminating-on-a-lover-who-did-you-wrong.”
So each week, and whenever I come across a gem, I will be posting music that I think you might enjoy listening to as well. Enjoy!
My song for this week is Young, Dumb and Broke by Khalid, a millennial anthem. Why?
Who can’t relate to being young, dumb and broke?
Khalid is a fresh-faced eighteen RnB singer who often manages to sound years older than he actually is. He has the most soothing, gravely voice overflowing with warmth, softness and sincerity that will catch you off-guard. Some of his songs can be almost hauntingly beautiful. How is this an eighteen year old? He sounds like a hundred Sunday afternoons.
The first song I heard from Khalid was “Location.” It’s delicate but upbeat, effortlessly infusing beats and melodies. It’s full; smooth, sensual, soulful. You can imagine a man telling you to cut out the games, send your location so he can romance you and be grown about it! It’s lovely. It’s youth and romance and hope and freedom.
Khalid’s full album is fittingly called American Teen, and is a collection of youth anthems full of hopeful lyrics over some heavy bass. It’s about love, youth and loneliness, longing, adventures and friendship in the summer. It has a very distinctively RnB feel of yesteryear without losing that millennial spirit. It’s heartfelt, elegant and pretty impressive all round. Not a bad effort from the new kid on the block. Definitely one worth paying attention to.
It was my birthday two days ago and I truly had such a lovely day! I was supposed to go on a girl’s trip for my birthday but that fell through. There was a lot of drama in the lead up to my birthday and I got really frustrated and irritated at how everything that could go wrong, was going wrong, so I decided to cancel all my plans and spend most of the day alone just to make sure it went exactly how I wanted it to go; control I suppose. Low expectations, no disappointment. Funnily enough, I actually ended up spending only a relatively small part of the day alone. I spent the day not with the people I would have expected to, but it was a day full of so much love, effort, intention and good wishes that I actually felt a little overwhelmed! I certainly was not disappointed. I chose to focus only on the positivity and joy instead of those little niggling ugly feelings that always seem to crop up. I can’t be the only one who gets a little weepy, sensitive and nostalgic around my birthday.
I went to church in the morning and thanked God for all the blessings he has given me so far; my family, my friends, my health, my job, my capabilities and my love. I got home to a giant delivery of the prettiest flowers; I couldn’t stop geeking out over how big the bouquet was! Everyone knows how much I love flowers and plants and it was really lovely that someone remembered and actually did something about it!
Then I went to the spa all alone and had the most delectable experience. I was so relaxed and warm and calm. I even fell asleep a little during my massage! I think you get the point; it was amazing. Afterwards I had a late lunch with a friend who insists on calling it “lunner “at a quaint little Greek deli which we have now decided is our new favourite joint. Unbelievably tasty food at a great price. Double winner! We had Mezedakia, a trio of tzatziki, hummus and skirdalia. Then we had Skara Sti Pita, which is a carb-loaded traditional Greek pita filled with meat, tzatziki, chips(!) and a salad. I had the bifteki and my friend opted for the pork. Hands down the most delicious thing I have eaten in a while. Then we had a giant plate of beautiful lemon-flavoured prawns. Gin and Vodka also made an appearance. It was just so good! Unfortunately my phone died so I didn’t get to take any decent pictures of the amazing food, but when we go back next time, I will definitely share with you. I think it deserves its own feature.
On my way home, I unfortunately hit the most massive pothole while attempting to avoid another pothole.Sigh. That’s how these things go. My tyre completely gave in and I was really lucky I hadn’t been going faster. Two young men stopped and helped me change the tyre; they even waited for my Mom to come when we realised one of the things we needed for the jack was missing. I was so grateful and touched by the kindness of complete strangers. They didn’t have to do that for me, but they did, without expecting anything. People can really surprise you like that.
I got home safe, happy and fed, to a few more presents and lovely words.My friend was laughing at me that I could remain cheerful after such an awful experience, but it is part of my new strategy to enjoy my life in 2017. I am not very good at letting things go and at having things be out of my control. I have been beating myself up mentally for not paying more attention when I was driving, despite knowing how awful the roads are and that it was bound to happen at some point.
I like to plan, yes even to the point of over-planning. I can even drive myself crazy second-guessing myself; it is exhausting. I am learning to relax a little and let it all fall together. I have had to learn that is not always possible, especially when you are dealing with other people and they have their own lives going on. No one owes you anything. A difficult but necessary lesson, and what better time to learn it than going into a new year on my birthday?
Look at me. A year older and already wiser. Thankful and glowing.
At the end of 2016, I was exhausted. My sleeping habits were a mess and my appetite was virtually non-existent; I was deeply stressed, unhappy, emotional and harassed. People were bullying and manipulating me, lying to me, hurting me, and I was going out of my mind wondering what on earth was going in my life. I was completely depleted and crawled through the last two months of the year. I won’t lie; with each day, it was harder and harder for me to get out of bed. I was going to the gym pretty much daily, but I felt really weak. Wake up, shower, get dressed; neat bun, lipstick, fix on a smile and try harder than I normally had to, to concentrate on my work. It was one of the hardest periods of my life as an emerging adult. No matter how tearful and broken you are, you still have to show up, clean, polished, smiling and charming. Get through an entire day without cracking, then go home and prepare for a repeat. There was so much negativity and ugly energy in my life. I was hurt, angry, frustrated and heartbroken. I really needed a break.
I knew what I needed: a get-away. Somewhere deep in the mountains, remote and mysterious; still; a little fresh stream running by the side of a white cottage, hunks of firewood hewn and sitting by the side of a rock fireplace ready for the night. I could picture it. Somewhere cold, clean and fresh. Extra blue sky, thick, billowing milky white clouds sighing gently and lazily pushing each other side to side, mist weaving through the thick tree-trunks. A new start. I wanted to purge every single emotion, bawl my eyes out, go running until I couldn’t breathe from the cold air piercing my lungs and could only concentrate on my next breath and nothing more. Eat some fresh fruit, drink icy-cold hard water, immerse my body in even colder water, pray for deliverance and reflect on my life. Shake off the pain, hurt, fear and loss of the year.
Talk to God.
When I was younger, my closest cousins lived everywhere around the country. They moved from Chindunduma to Madziva to Chiredzi and to countless other places I no longer recall. I remember travelling to see them- for a birthday party, for a holiday visit. But what I remember most was when they moved to the mountains. At some point my uncle finally decided to settle and chose the Eastern Highlands region. They still moved around from time to time, but it was now concentrated within the region. It was closer than other places they had lived in, so when we had the chance, we would travel down to their side of the world. It was then that I first fell in love.
I have been to the Eastern Highlands numerous times over the years. I remember for our Grade Seven trip we went to a camp called Far and Wide. Unfortunately there was a cyclone passing through the region and most of the trip for the teachers and chaperones involved panicked parents checking in to make sure their beloved children had not been swept away. Blissfully unaware of the drama, we swam in the Mtarazi River every morning mispronouncing it like the white lady who ran the place did. It was only a few years later that we realised that the correct pronunciation is actually the Shona Mutarazi and not Mmm… Tarahziii. Those morning sessions before we hit the team building poles and trails were brutally freezing and supposedly character-building; I don’t remember where the certificate I got for lasting the week is, today. But I remember how great a time we had, completely oblivious of the panic our parents were apparently going through. Youth!! I’m not sure if Far and Wide is still functional, but it still looked pretty good when we drove past on the way to the Mtarazi Falls, so I am hopeful that it is still serving other children.
I love to travel; I always have. My mom enjoys reminding me that when I was younger I would confidently declare that I wanted to be a tourist when I grew up. We traveled quite a lot when we were younger and I guess it has just stuck. I love the idea of packing up and going far away for a bit, to find a different piece of myself. It calms and centres me. And I always look forward to coming home to my bed after a healthy jaunt full of overexertion, love and reflection. I hate not having the money to do it more, but it is something that I have prioritised going forward, so I pray it works out.
The Eastern Highlands remains one of my favourite spaces, and is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful places in the world. I always feel at peace when I am there. Completely light and magical. Time moves slower, the air is cleaner, the company keener, the earth feels more solid beneath my feet. I can breathe again. I think in a few years once I have made my first few hundred thousands in the corporate rat race, I will be investing in a cottage property deep in the mountains far away from the stress of daily life. It really is a hermit life. There isn’t even a supermarket anywhere close! Everything is locally sourced. Fish, fresh fruit, vegetables, wild mushrooms.
I went for early morning runs through the mud and dew with my Dad; pointlessly winding explorations with my sisters while my mom slept soundly and graciously declined all invitations to go outside until the rain stopped or at least until the bacon was fried and safely in her stomach! I was glad everyone was getting what they needed. You don’t know how wonderful it is to wander and to get lost in whatever you are doing with no conception of time and schedules and deadlines. Bitterly cold air, breathtaking sights, overwhelming greenery, earthy new potatoes, sweet white wine and scalding local tea. Finally putting the off-road vehicle to full use and not just navigating the gaping potholes in the city. Family and love. It was calming and a beautiful end to an unbelievably ugly year. Even writing about it now is making me happy and calm.
More than anything, I was happy. My phone was reduced to a fantastic camera and not a source of stress. For a change, my earphones were not semi-permanently attached to my ears blocking out the noise as there was no noise! I was not running. Not figuratively at least. I was calm, restful and peaceful. I was happy. You have no idea how important it is to have those things in your life. The men who had been stressing me out were the last thing on my mind. No one was making demands of me or angering me. Zero distractions. It was one of the purest experiences I enjoyed the whole year, and I returned clean and soft and glowing, inside-out, determined to cling to those feelings for as long as possible.
One of my colleagues asked me what my resolutions are for the year.
“To be happy,” I replied.
“Wow. That’s a lot. In a way, it’s everything,” was his response.
And I smiled because he got it. I am my top priority this year. My happiness, my peace of mind, my goals and success. Me. No compromises. Because what I learnt from my first real year of being an adult in an adult environment, was how easy it is to get lost and be drowning in things that have no place in your life. It sounds childlike to actively work for happiness, but I have found that the only way to get what you want and need, is to actively fight for it. It will never come to you while you sit and absorb the mundane unhappiness and drudgery of everyday life. You have to fight for it, and hang onto it for as long as it will have you. I am grateful I learnt that lesson.
Anyone who even vaguely knows me will know that I love flowers. I might love flowers more than food, which is saying something! There is just something so wonderful about a fresh bunch of beautiful flowers. I find so much joy, love, happiness and hope in a bunch of flowers. The bigger the better.
Roses are great. Structurally, they might be one of the most superior creations we are blessed with. The delicate bud tight and concealed that, at the right time and in the right conditions, bursts forth into a beautiful circle of beauty; something poetic there.The way that the petals grow outwards from the core, pushing against each other but in the process creating something collectively great; that’s grand! In full bloom? Unmatched in beauty.
I know this is terribly grinch-like but I am most certainly not a great fan of the red rose. Chalk it down to too many failed Valentine’s Day plans. Of course I would not turn up my nose ever at a beautiful bunch or even a single stem left outside my door (wink, wink secret admiter), but I do prefer my roses in different colours. There is something a little more magical, a little more convincing and special about a non-red rose. One of my forever favourites is the yellow rose.
Yellow roses are symbolic of some of my favourite things. Friendship; loyalty; well-wishes; warmth; love; optimism. They are associated with “life-giving warmth.” Yellow roses never fail to make me smile. Life is hard. Sometimes you just need something beautiful in life to remind that it is still after all worth living. Yellow roses are it for me. You are essentially getting sunshine on a stalk! What more could one want?
The purpose of this post was simply to celebrate the yellow rose. I got a beautiful bunch of yellow roses last week and it made my entire week better. Anytime I felt low I would just look at them and never fail to smile. Mostly because of what they represent. Long live friendship, love, loyalty, warmth, the sun, optimism and all the beautiful things in life.