Il Est Calm

Poor lily. She's all cooped up in my little apartment. I wish I had a bigger space for her to traipse around in. I live on the corner of two busy streets, so she can't really go outside. My place gets lots of light, thanks to the large North-facing bay windows and she gets to look out the window often, but that doesn't quell her kitty urge to hunt and frolic about in the outdoors. I have a photograph on my fridge of Lily standing outdoors in a pile of leaves, with the sunlight illuminating her fur on one side. When I look at it these days, I feel guilty. The photo mocks my Lily. Who knows when she'll be able to roll around in the leaves again? Someday I'll get us a bigger space, maybe with a backyard and everything. She'll have a little kitty door to go through as she pleases. That would be nice. Someday.

In the meantime I've moved on from songs about deranged women and decided to move instead songs about death. Up On The Orange Moon is finished, and I've started work on another song for the IHML, Vol. 2, called Il Est Calm. The title is culled from a short film made by a girl I knew last year who I desperately wanted to date. She was so cool. She played piano, made films, worked as a camera operator at the local news cast, was unashamed to admit that she liked Harry Potter, and spoke French (she even had a boxed set of Harry Potter books in French). She was really fun to dance with, hang out with, and talk to. So of course she didn't return my feelings of affection. In the end she had to give her phone number to another guy right in front of me to get it through my thick skull that she wasn't interested. I was crushed. During our friendship, she had asked me to write some music to accompany her little film. So I started work on it. I really liked what I came up with, and she loved it. But then our friendship ended after the "phone number" incident, and I never spoke to her again. She still wanted me to finish the music, and I suppose I should have, but I was really hurt, so much so that it was impossible for me to continue working on it. In the end I left her a curt phone message and that was that.
This all happened last fall. Immature, I know.

What, then, to do with this music? Well, I shelved it. Now, however, I'm using the music for this collection. I have a vague story in mind: a scene on the Siene, wherin a guy is holding his dying lover in his arms, and she's saying "Il Est Calm..." as death comes. She asks him to sing her a little song as she dies. So romantic! So tragic! I thought it could be a bit of a tribute to She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Plus, it conforms to the Ideal Home Music Library's tradition of having songs in fake French. Well, not fake French, really, but little snippets of real French mixed in with English, like in The Lady From Reims.I don't know why I have a tendency to try to write in a language I don't know. It's hard to explain. I suppose I could write songs in Russian. If the inspiration comes, I will. But it has to be natural. Writing in Russian seems pretentious because I know the language pretty well. Writing in French seems less pretentious because my ignorance of the language makes it fun to play with. It's hard to explain. Anyway, I came up with the vocal melody again while on my bike riding somewhere in Southeast. I sang the melody into my cellphone and later, when I got home, matched it up with the music. We'll see where it goes. More later.