Perhaps I really need to bring more of myself into the blog, or ethnographic project if you will. I identify quite a bit with the 'Vulnerable Observer' text in that in my writing of emotions, particularly my own, ethnographically I am increasingly finding that I can not seperate myself from my observations because they become translated through my experience.

I am a Christian, Methodist to be more precise. I was born and raised in the church, so it has really become a routine part of my life. My family is heavily cultured in church life which is a vague definition I know, but it does have a profound effect on how they see things. My girlfriend is Jewish, and this raises some interesting questions and gets some curious looks from Christian friends and family. My mother related to me a conversation she had with my grandparents and some of my aunts who all live within an hour or so of my home in St. Louis so visit often. A large portion of my mother's side of the family is from the small town of Staunton, Illinois where it is characteristic for everyone to know everyone else, and my family is particularly prone to gossip. By coincidence, Emily, my girlfriend, also had family that was from the same small town. So the topic of the mutual acquantaince came up and my aunts said something to the effect of, "We think we know who she is related to, but she was Lutheran. Is Emily Lutheran?" My mom just told me, "I avoided the conversation because I didn't want to start a debate." I get a similar slightly fearful response from many others, "Are you sure this is okay?" or "I don't think I would be able to do that." They all do remain good friends and are supportive in the end, but the apprehension is there.

In an earlier entry I raised questions of identity, seeing a black and white distinction being drawn to who is 'in' and who is 'out' in terms of Christianity. According to this definition I am 'in' and she is 'out', but yet we are together and in our relationship that boundary does not exist. So am I in one category when with other Christians and in another when I'm with her? Switching roles becomes complicated, especially when they are seen to conflict.

This directly manifests itself emotionally, I want her to be accepted and I become frustrated at a system that could employ classifications based on such a basic principle, but on the other hand I am that system that casts her out. Where do I put my spiritual self, my relationships, my emotions? How can they fit together to one cohesive whole? There is a lot of confusion there, a lot of rethinking what I had grown up with, a lot of attempts to define my 'self'. Emotions tend to reflect this quest.

To continue on the issue of music, I find that it creates a mood, experience, connection that is beyond one's own self. Through emotional appeal, imagery, storytelling, mood, or any number of performative elements we enter into an emotional experience that draws from our own feelings, but is it's own entity.

The musical group, The Books, create a distinct genre of aleatoric music (a term adopted by the band themselves). Compiling seemingly random sound bytes from a wealth of collected recordings, some gathered by the band themselves by carrying around a recorder, with elements of verse sung by the band, and set to background music played mainly on violin or cello and guitar introduce rhythm.

The music itself is hard to describe without listening to it. The song "Enjoy Your Worries, You May Never Have Them Again" first sets a mood with it's title and somber tone, I begin thinking of worries, fears, and wonder how can I possibly enjoy them? One anectode is a woman explaining, "Because I just wanted... He kept calling me at night, all hours of the night, calling my husband, my brother, calling me every day. He's after me and I was devestated. I was without a job, without a salary, I was trying to get unemployment and I was told the first kicks in after a few weeks. And I was busy looking for another job and I also have a heart condition, I told him I have a heart condition. I said here take a few dollars, I'm sorry this happened to you, but just leave me alone, I'm not the person who deposited your..." CRASH! The song continues to pick up pace, and close with a much more light hearted string piece and a man saying, "All the music is a rainbow." The song, and the rest of their work, is interesting because it invites active participation on the part of the listener to sort out the segmented bits.

Upon my listening, I am forced to think. The emotions involved are complicated, but heavily involved. I don't feel readily invested in the story because I have no connection with the person who said it, but on the other hand I have a desire to be more observant, to find where the stories come from, to find the meaning of what I'm hearing. I am drawn in to another world, only to find out it is my own.

The recent discussion of music as a reference point for emotional feeling, both creating a feeling through the act of listening as well as reflecting an emotional state already present in the observer which they then relate to the song. This exchange is an interesting one, creating a precarious relationship between the songwriter and the listener. Music creates an atmosphere where it is okay to be emotional and expressive, so by listening to an artist I feel connected to them as I am taken through their thoughts and emotions.

Personally, while I do place a significant emphasis on the actual music played, I generally look to the lyrics as an essential part of the experience. I want to hear the story that is being told to me and assign it a meaning.

One of my favorite artists is Sufjan Stevens. He is currently working on constructing an album for each of the 50 states, exploring stories and the character of the state through a collection of songs. As such, there is a great emphasis placed on the lyrical explorations into the human condition. On his album, 'Greetings from Michigan: The Great Lakes State' he closes with a song titled 'Vito's Ordination Song'. The lyrics are as follows:

I always knew you in your mothers arms,
I have called your name,
I have an idea placed in your mind to be a better man,
I've made a crown for you, put it in your room,
and when the bride groom comes there will be noise, there will be glad, and a perfect bed,
and when you write a poem, I know the words, I know the sounds, before you write it down,
When you wear your clothes, I wear them too, I wear your shoes, and your jacket too,
I always knew you in your mothers arms,
I have called you son,
I've made amends between father and son,
or if you havent one rest in my arms, sleep in my bed, there is a design to what I did and said

The imagery is loaded with both relational experience at a family level and as a religious experience. Notions such as the crown, making amends between father and son, and the wedding as well as several others appear often in a Christian context as God's means of approaching humanity. For me the crux of the song is in the chorus "Rest in my arms, sleep in my bed, there is a design". I have written several posts about attempting to define a religious identity and the comfort that you don't have to identify with anything, that it is as simple as falling asleep, is comforting to me.

Sufjan says on his website concerning the song, "Don't worry. Put away your mirrors and your beauty magazines and your books on tape. There is someone right here who knows you more than you do, who is making room on the couch, who is fixing a meal, who is putting on your favorite record, who is listening intently to what you have to say, who is standing there with you, face to face, hand to hand, eye to eye, mouth to mouth. There is no space left uncovered."

I find this very soothing, perhaps identification is not what's important.