The year 2002 was a pretty monumental year for me from beginning to end.
I began my year still recovering from my accident and going back to as normal of a life as I could. A life that was not like mine prior, a life that would never be the same. A life that would continue to change for me.
2002 marked my first surgery after my accident; some left knee interior clean up.
2002 marked my second surgery after my accident, a torn right ACL. Both surgeries would lead to 7 others following them respectively.
2002 marked the year new suite mates moved in at college and despite one of their moms thinking my sister was me and urging her daughter to be friends with my sister rather than me (her suite mate) … life long friendships formed.
2002 marked a year where I met a guy through a mutual friend and we shortly thereafter began to date for several years. It wasn't meant to be.
2002 marked the year I had my left tragus pierced and aside from changing the ball on the hoop and taking the hoop out to occasionally clean it, it's been the same piece of jewelry since the day it was pierced. I often forget I even have it.
2002 marked the year I was surprised. I was awed. I was speechless. I fell in love with a band, their music. I became obsessed and still am.
I won't be offended or upset when you read that and don't know who they are and think you've never heard of them. You may have heard of them and didn't know them. You didn't realize it. And I forgive you for that. You know why I forgive you for that? It turns out I knew of them and a very small memory I have of shortly after my accident is seeing a movie and hearing a song in the final scene. The song was surreal. It was touching. It was as I later found out, a song by Sigur Rós.
My first full and truly memorable experience with Sigur Rós was listening to their album ( ), which was introduced to me by the guy I was dating at the time. As irony would have it I fell much more in love with the band than him or even his love for the band. I digress.
Somethings are tried and true in life. Some things are a given, and while I'll be the first to admit nothing is truly a given, Sigur Rós is for me. Their album ( ) is unique in the sense that the entire album is simply called ( ) or untitled. Each of the 8 songs on the album are respectively entitled Untitled followed by the track number. The first four tracks of the album are a bit lighter in the sense that they sound slightly more optimistic than the last four tracks of the album which appear more melancholy. The band entitled their album as such so listeners could come up with their own words, their own meanings, their own titles. And when I say the band wanted their fans to come up with their own words, I say this because the entire album is in 'Hopelandic', a made up language consisting of gibberish words and sounds; the majority of other Sigur Rós albums are in Icelandic, a language I don't speak.
This isn't just a proclamation of my love for Sigur Rós, although I really do love them. It is however a reflective of how far I've come, how things have changed, and one constant has been Sigur Rós. I've had the greatest privileged to see them in concert twice and both times are so embedded in my brain that they seem just like yesterday. The first time I saw Sigur Rós I didn't know what to expect. They played the Chicago Theater, which in and of itself is a beautiful place. But with the moving music, the acoustics ... I didn't want it to end. As well, it was that first concert of theirs that I noted I must have pretty decent taste in music but the guitarist of a Chicago band I like, Kill Hannah, was also in attendance. The moment was very surreal, there I was in a historic venue leaving after what I classified as the best concert I had ever been to, and on my way out I walked by the guitarist of another band I adored. Fate works in funny ways.
Several years and life events passed before I had the opportunity to see Sigur Rós again. My second concert was with two very good friends (the suitemate (and her husband) from college whose mom wanted her to be friends with my sister). I had only hoped all the 'hype' I kept on with would hold up for my friends as well as the memories I had. They liked Sigur Rós, but not to the level I did. I was like a little kid at the circus. I sat on the edge of my seat. I stared. I was silent. I clapped. I had wide eyes. When one of my favorite songs, Hoppípolla began I gasped. I smiled. It was magical.
The constant with my love for Sigur Rós is that no matter my mood, where I'm at, or really what I'm doing their music fits into my life. It's a constant, and few things are a constant or come so naturally. I often think it's the ambiguity I hear in their music that can help me through a sad time, celebrate a victory, fill a void in a long car drive, get me through the hardest part of a run, or simply to relax.
I once played my favorite song by Sigur Rós for a friend. I simply said "This is my favorite song in the whole world, and the band is from Iceland so I can say that." My friend was speechless. I can't judge him, he didn't know what to say. And that's what always brings me back to Sigur Rós is that while they have titled albums and songs, many of those words are in a language they've made up or a language I don't speak. Cliche, but the music speaks to me.
I always go back to their ( ) album, and possibly because it's the first album I really heard of theirs. Or perhaps it's because they left their work and art in the hands of their fans. I still refer to what has since been titled Samskeyti (my favorite song) as Untitled Number 3; it was the third track on their album entitled ( ).
Maybe I always go back to their ( ) album because it was Untitled. Undefined. A bit of a way I wanted to live my life. The way I do live my life. I never want to be defined. In fact don't think I can truly be defined as only one person, one thing, one type. And just in case I ever lost my way, I made a permanent reminder for myself 7 years after I first listened to ( ).
This isn't just a proclamation of my love for Sigur Rós, although I really do love them. It is however a reflective of how far I've come, how things have changed, and one constant has been Sigur Rós. I've had the greatest privileged to see them in concert twice and both times are so embedded in my brain that they seem just like yesterday. The first time I saw Sigur Rós I didn't know what to expect. They played the Chicago Theater, which in and of itself is a beautiful place. But with the moving music, the acoustics ... I didn't want it to end. As well, it was that first concert of theirs that I noted I must have pretty decent taste in music but the guitarist of a Chicago band I like, Kill Hannah, was also in attendance. The moment was very surreal, there I was in a historic venue leaving after what I classified as the best concert I had ever been to, and on my way out I walked by the guitarist of another band I adored. Fate works in funny ways.
Several years and life events passed before I had the opportunity to see Sigur Rós again. My second concert was with two very good friends (the suitemate (and her husband) from college whose mom wanted her to be friends with my sister). I had only hoped all the 'hype' I kept on with would hold up for my friends as well as the memories I had. They liked Sigur Rós, but not to the level I did. I was like a little kid at the circus. I sat on the edge of my seat. I stared. I was silent. I clapped. I had wide eyes. When one of my favorite songs, Hoppípolla began I gasped. I smiled. It was magical.
The constant with my love for Sigur Rós is that no matter my mood, where I'm at, or really what I'm doing their music fits into my life. It's a constant, and few things are a constant or come so naturally. I often think it's the ambiguity I hear in their music that can help me through a sad time, celebrate a victory, fill a void in a long car drive, get me through the hardest part of a run, or simply to relax.
I once played my favorite song by Sigur Rós for a friend. I simply said "This is my favorite song in the whole world, and the band is from Iceland so I can say that." My friend was speechless. I can't judge him, he didn't know what to say. And that's what always brings me back to Sigur Rós is that while they have titled albums and songs, many of those words are in a language they've made up or a language I don't speak. Cliche, but the music speaks to me.
I always go back to their ( ) album, and possibly because it's the first album I really heard of theirs. Or perhaps it's because they left their work and art in the hands of their fans. I still refer to what has since been titled Samskeyti (my favorite song) as Untitled Number 3; it was the third track on their album entitled ( ).
Maybe I always go back to their ( ) album because it was Untitled. Undefined. A bit of a way I wanted to live my life. The way I do live my life. I never want to be defined. In fact don't think I can truly be defined as only one person, one thing, one type. And just in case I ever lost my way, I made a permanent reminder for myself 7 years after I first listened to ( ).
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