Carleen Tibbetts: “As some of you readers who follow me on social media may already know, this June, I lost my mother. She had been diagnosed with COPD about 10 years ago, and her health had been in flux. When my father passed in the winter of 2017, she was moved into an assisted care facility. I was able to fly out there in both Spring of 2017 and March of this year with my husband and daughter to visit her, for which I’m so grateful. Though I knew she had this debilitating and deteriorating condition, I feel there is no way to ever really prepare yourself for a loved one’s death. All death is tragic, no matter the circumstances that cause or surround it.
I have been reading a variety of books on grief and healing, poetry, and criticism. They have all been working their magic in various ways, but one that has stood out as strangely very relevant to writing and Dream Pop’s vision is the 33 1/3 book on Sigur Ros’s “( )” by Ethan Hayden. This book focuses more on the fact that Sigur Ros made up their own language, “Hopelandic,” for this record, instead of singing in their native Icelandic. While the author does discuss the sounds of the record and the music itself, he mostly focuses on the elements of language, “nonsense” languages, making meaning from linguistic gaps, and traces these elements in fields from Futurist poetry to architecture. He writes that, “Language itself exists in a sonic space,” and I feel that so much of the work we fall in love with at Dream Pop is forged in that pre-linguistic soundscape ether. So much of it retains a strange and primal feeling and sound. I have read quite a bit of linguistic and literary theory, but this book about a record seemed to hit the nail on the head for me regarding the connection between meaning, sense, and language. What makes language language? Does it have to mean something? Does it have to make sense? Just how is making sense defined? These are all questions I think about when presented with so much of the work sent our way.”
Isobel O’Hare: “Carleen and I have both been thinking and speaking so much on grief recently, and because of the intense social pressure we as a society place on one another to remain upbeat and positive at all times under this late-capitalist hellscape (*draws a breath*) I thought I would share a poem that speaks to the power that comes to us from the necessary darkness.
-Rainer Maria Rilke
You, darkness, that I come from
I love you more than all the fires
that fence in the world,
for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone
and then no one outside learns of you.
But the darkness pulls in everything-
shapes and fires, animals and myself,
how easily it gathers them! –
powers and people-
and it is possible a great energy
is moving near me.
I have faith in nights.”
Follow us to Dream Pop Journal Issue #5.