Unitarian Hymnal Sing-along

In which Kathryn attempts to sing a different song everyday from the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, 'Singing the Living Tradition'. Earlier posts are based on songs from the Reader's Digest songbooks she found at yard sales as a child, including: 'Reader's Digest Treasury of Best Loved Songs', 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook', and 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook of Faith and Joy'. Bonus Folk song material from: 'Folk Song USA', by John and Alan Lomax.

06 December 2005

"Kiss Me Again"

And again, somewhat suddenly, we enter a new section of the book: 'A Treasury of Operetta and Semi-Classical Hits', whatever that means. In this case, it means composer Victor Herbert, and I hope it gets more interesting from here on in. This one is just a bit saccharine for me. So many love songs, and so hard to do well. Not that it can't be done well, and it sure is beautiful (sometimes gutwrenching, sometimes soaring ecstasy) when someone gets it right.

Someone asked me today if I found any movie stars attractive, and I had to admit that I didn't. One problem is not watching so many movies, but even when I do, even if I find a character in a movie appealing (I'm thinking most recently of the scene in 'Frida' where she dances with the other woman, but also, a little embarassingly, of Tim Curry in 'Rocky Horror'), I don't have a problem separating the character from the actor outside of that movie. And the actor is someone that I don't know, don't care about, and therefore don't find attractive. Characters in books are much more likely to be attractive, since they're fashioned partly by me, all in my head. No distracting reality-based photos.

Real people in my life are much more likely to be attractive to me. I find it interesting that I find my friends attractive, men and women, even though I'm not sexually attracted to women at all (I find men way too intriguing). But it ties in with the fact that if I like someone, they do truly become more fascinating to me, more beautiful; whereas some very beautiful people that I have known have gotten less and less attractive as I get to know them, until I have trouble remembering that they might be considered physically appealing at all.

Attraction, when it lasts for me, becomes love, by my choice. Usually it takes a while, I'm very careful, cautious even, but more importantly, I feel that there is no rush. I am blessed with many fabulous friends who I love dearly, and who love me in return, and I am not desparate to widen my circle. Life, yet again, is good.


At 6:17 PM, Anonymous binky said...

It's the same for me... I usually don't find strangers to be attractive, and I've come to the conclusion that is because people I am really attracted to have to be smart and funny, and it's hard to find those things out quickly. Oh sure, I can look at Johnny Depp or Tilda Swinton (must be a cheekbone thing) and go, hmm, tasty morsel, but I've never felt attracted to one of them as a character, or celebrity the way I know some people are. I have a great love for a certain band, which my beloved thinks (I think) is an attraction to the lead singer. I believe, and insist, that it is not. Yes, I am compelled by the charisma, and atrracted as to shiny objects etc, but it's not sexual. Contrary to what my sweetie might think, I do not want to fuck Wayne Coyne. I want to bask in the glory of the musical experience that is the Flaming Lips, but I don't want to touch any of them. I'm not even sure I want to meet them, which I have kind of had the chance to do a couple of times, whilst pretending to be a music journalist.

Only once, ever, have I had the sexual urge toward a celebrity. It was someone who I don't find attractive, and it wasn't something the I thought about in any way, but that during a concert, all of a sudden I realized my body was sending me signals that said "get some of that now." It was the oddest thing. And it was Thom Yorke. That's got to be some powerful glamour of the old style, compelling magic of charisma. And in this case, unlike the guys from OKC, it crossed the line. Once in 37 years.


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