Hi, interwebs. It’s me again. I have been dormant for over a year, but I still exist, and I am still writing songs. Part of the reason I disappeared for so long is that I was contributing to a now-defunct cooperative blog called The Fangirl Initiative for a large chunk of that time, and one blog is enough for me. But now that it has faded into obscurity, I figured I’d check back here and see if anyone is still listening.
I still participate in FAWM, so that’s where the bulk of my new songs are coming from, but not all. I am now officially on staff at my local filk convention, and it was amazing this year. So the songwriting schtick is alive and well.
I can’t promise regular updates, but I will try not to wait so long to post again. For those who read this, thanks for taking the time to look again. 🙂
And now, the important part.
For FAWM, 2018 was the year of all things water, thematically. I didn’t get as many as I would have liked finished, but the ones I did finish were quite satisfying. Have a creepy take on undine mythology.
Of the Ocean
by Gabrielle G.
Mother, I’ve wanted to speak to you
Ever since I was a child of three,
I didn’t know what you looked like,
Or why you died so far from me,
Mother, I’ve wanted to hold your hand
Ever since my fingers learned how to grip,
Father said you had been taken
By the waves from the deck of his ship.
How many times have I gone to the shore
Expecting an answer, perhaps something more than the sea?
How many times have I searched for a sign,
Bespelled by the notion that out in the brine was the key?
Father, why do you seem hesitant
To reveal anything more about her?
Stories to seek when I’m lonely,
Some way to know how things were,
Father, why do you ignore me
When I ask why I have these marks on my arms,
Scars as if something were torn out,
Though I know I have never been harmed?
How many times have I gone to the shore
Expecting an answer, perhaps something more than the sea?
How many times have I searched for a sign,
Bespelled by the notion that out in the brine was the key?
Day after day, the same misty scene,
Until the day before I turned sixteen,
Just as my maidenhood flowered,
You rose from the ocean pristine,
I listened closely as your tale was told,
You explained how you emerged from the cold
To make the mistake of remaining on land
For a man who could give you a soul.
Always the loyal one, caring and kind,
As you grew older, he left you behind
He was unfaithful, though he had been warned,
So you returned to the brine.
Mother, I know of the curse that you cast
On him when you came back to the deep,
He would die young and die bloody,
Not of old age in his sleep.
Mother, you’ve gone away, as you will,
But I know I’m of the ocean as well,
Though you gave no further details,
He is why you left; I’ll bring him hell.
How many times have I gone to the shore
Expecting an answer, perhaps something more than the sea?
How many times have you sent me a sign?
Once you’re avenged, by your side in the brine’s where I’ll be.
Waking Dreams 