When Sebastian and I were in our twenties, we built a boat. It was a Glen L 14: a 14-foot wood and Fiberglas blue sailboat with shiny varnished seats and bright, white sails.
I deeply believe in dedicating time to the things we love; it’s the name of this blog and the life philosophy I credit with giving me a second chance at a happy life. There is no “getting over it,” “you are too old for this,” and specially, “you are a mom, so you should not be doing x or y…” Motherhood, on the contrary, was one of the catalyst of my decision to not only never abandon the things I was passionate about—music, movies, reading, writing—but to pass these passions along to my son as the most beautiful gifts of being alive.
Some loves are too big. These are the kind that affect you so completely, so profoundly, that to talk about them becomes daunting, almost embarrassingly difficult. So it is with me and Rush, the Canadian prog-rock trio, my most constant and enduring musical love. But recently, in the context of what may be Rush’s last big tour (or tour, period), I was given the chance to talk about them on the radio. It was a gift, and the person who so kindly gave this gift to me probably only has a small idea how special this was for me.
It took 20 years or so, but last week I finally got to see Pearl Jam in concert for the first time. The experience was so beautiful and powerful that it has stayed with me for many days. It also made me realize one thing: even though I love many, many things, and I enjoy and love many types of music, I remain a rocker at heart.