Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Behold the magnificent chrysanthemum – weighted with history, filled with tales, and present for so many seasonal changes. It’s played a part in various periods and forms of art, emblematic of more than could ever be even touched upon in such a trifling post like this. This particular plant carries the appropriate colors of the season – and by that I mean the season of fall and Taylor Swift. We won’t quite get that trifling, as there are more important matters for the mind. With that said, let us travel somewhere together. It’s Saturday morning – the time for escape – even if it’s just in our heads…

This is music for journeying, music to back the motions of travel, of planning and preparation – two favorite Virgo pastimes. While I feel myself wanting to slow down, I also feel a restlessness in the air, a need to take action and get away for the occasional weekend. Traveling has a wonderful way of making the weekend feel longer.

Planning for a trip produces similar euphoria, at least for my obsessively-organized ass – and it allows a quick weekend jaunt to exist for longer than its actual weekend length. We can plan and prepare and make the days leading up to an adventure just as exciting as the adventure itself – in some ways, those moments are more enchanting because they contain only the dreamy aspects of possibility and what might come, unburdened by the reality of what will be.

Scattered throughout downtown Albany, these little Nipper sculptures always make me paws (sorry) and smile for their bit of whimsy. Occasionally, they come with a more pressing message – in this case the ever-pertinent idea that ‘you matter’ – a reminder for anyone who needs a little pick-me-up at a troubling time. We all have struggles, and most of us like to pretend that we don’t. I understand that – sometimes it’s easier to push on through rather than face and possibly falter over something that’s hard to handle. It puts me in the mind of this song by Paramore. For some reason, this harkens to the 90’s tracks that comprised the Structure soundtrack of my retail days (Structure was the precursor to Express Men, for those who were not around then). It also brings me back to that time in my life – starting out with a retail job and wondering what ever would come of a career. And so we travel back to Boston in the mid-to-late 90’s…

I don’t mind
Lettin’ you down easy, but just give it time
If it don’t hurt now, but just wait, just wait awhile
You’re not the big fish in the pond no more
You are what they’re feedin’ on
So what are you gonna do
When the world don’t orbit around you? Ooh, uh, uh
So what are you gonna do
When the world don’t orbit around you?

Ain’t it fun
Livin’ in the real world?
Ain’t it good
Bein’ all alone?

My co-workers at Structure were becoming my friends – or the closest thing I had to friends in that transitional time of our lives. They taught me what it was like to live alone in Boston – where to go, how to act, what to say, how to be – most of it superficial and useless. But we were going through it together, and that felt like all that mattered.

Where you’re from
You might be the one who’s runnin’ things
Well, you could ring anybody’s bell and get what you want
See, it’s easy to ignore trouble
When you’re livin’ in a bubble

While this song came out about twelve years ago, it speaks to life as a twenty-something, when every little obstacle feels like an insurmountable ordeal, and the idea of making a living in any substantial way feels far away. In many respects, that’s one of the sweeter spots in life – that section of not-knowing, that moment when there is only possibility.

So what are you gonna do
When the world don’t orbit around you? Mm, uh, uh
So what are you gonna do
When nobody wants to fool with you? Oh, oh, oh, uh, uh
Ain’t it fun, Livin’ in the real world?
Ain’t it good, Bein’ all alone?
Ain’t it good to be on your own?
Ain’t it fun you can’t count on no one?
Ain’t it good to be on your own?
Ain’t it fun you can’t count on no one?
Ain’t it fun
Livin’ in the real world?

In the way you have to make your own family when there’s none nearby, I leaned into the little retail family of Structure, even as they had their own lives and friend groups. A rainy Sunday morning of inventory was the highlight of my week, as much as everyone else dreaded it, and I stayed in town for the day after Thanksgiving rush that year, deliberately missing a family Thanksgiving at home. It is telling that I made such a choice then.

Don’t go cryin’ to your mama
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world
Don’t go cryin’ to your mama
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world

For a few formative years in my youth, fall was the season when I typically fell in love with someone ~ or thought I was falling in love. I was so young and naive and foolish that looking back it wasn’t anything like love, but it was a closeness and connection that I wanted so badly, any poor chap entering the realm of vision was at risk. 

Wait… that’s not being entirely fair to myself. There were reasons and signs that led me to believe in the possibility of love ~ I didn’t just fall for someone because they were cute or wanted to fuck me. Every infatuation began with a bit of engagement and interaction, little signals or breadcrumbs that may or may not have been inadvertently left. I don’t know… I’m ok with acknowledging my wayward brain in leaping to romantic conclusions, but also smart enough to know that it wasn’t all entirely in my head. Flirtation wasn’t the fun and harmless thing it would become years later; back then my middle name should have been Earnest. (Confirmation name: Don’t-Fuck-With-Me.) 

Those infatuations also usually came accompanied by music, the way certain songs at certain points in your life leave a lasting impact. Someone once said that music is the way to expressing the soul, even more than words. For a writer, I’m not sure I completely agree, but there have been songs and melodies that define a person or a place or a time, and do so more than anything I could ever write down, so there is truth to it.

Music played a major part in those memory-making days, and sometimes it was a song that brought me back from the brink of danger or repulsion. Like certain scents, certain songs will return me to a time and place from long ago, when the heart was tender and the mind was questionable – music as a totem and marker. Here are a few fall moments that form the soundtrack to a season.

‘Where Do You Start?’ ~ For the question at the end, and the beginning.

‘Secret‘ ~ For the first man I ever kissed. So many memories come attached to this song and this period of time, I couldn’t possibly capture all the links, but this last letter hits most of them.

‘Dynasty‘ ~ For a more modern memory, one that brings back Dad’s downhill start and the foibles of family.

‘All Too Well‘ ~ For the falls that still hurt.

‘Survival‘ ~ For my infirmary-bound bout with mono. Fun!

‘Ring of Fire‘ ~ For when you have to burn it all down.

‘Vampire‘ ~ For embracing the blackness in every heart. 

‘You’ll See‘ ~ For the guy who found us a home in Boston (more on him later, as this year marks the 30th anniversary of that… episode). 

‘The Lake‘ ~ For those forgotten fall songs.

‘Bacchanal‘ ~ For the fall feasts.

‘Audrey’s Dance‘ ~ For fall dreaming.

‘The Power of Goodbye‘ ~ For the beginning of a relationship that we knew would end.

‘Nightswimming‘ ~ For September coming so soon…

We close out this first day of autumn with a moody song embodying the arrival of the season. Ella Fitzgerald sings of beautiful heartbreak, and a longing to not have an early autumn ~ and we are powerless to stopping it as it’s already here. Hearing the muse while a sliver of oud emanates from my wrist, I indulge in the beauty of the night.

When an early autumn walks the land and chills the breeze
And touches with her hand the summer trees
Perhaps you’ll understand what memories I own
There’s a dance pavilion in the rain all shuttered down
A winding country lane all russet brown
A frosty window pane shows me a town grown lonely…

Accustomed to the dark falls and the treacherous emotional terrain that often accompanies the seasons of lesser light, I feel that this is familiar territory. Whether it’s the unrequited infatuations of my youth or more adult-like failed relationships in my 20’s, fall has traditionally been a time of emotional turmoil. In some ways, the spell of such a time is a reminder that we are all still human, still prone to making messy mistakes in service to our wayward hearts.

That spring of ours that started so April-hearted
Seemed made for just a boy and girl
I never dreamed, did you, any fall could come in view
So early, early…

A candle glows gently before a mound of sumptuous sequin brocade. The light is serene, the colors are soft. Would that such pretty things be a balm on thy heart.

Darling, if you care, please, let me know
I’ll meet you anywhere, I miss you so
Let’s never have to share another early autumn

Instead, it rages quietly. It ravages in silence. It tears down the semblance of an ordered life and wreaks its havoc with nary a ripple of the surface. There, all is pristine and placid. No one wants to know what lurks below.

Darling, if you care, please, let me know
I’ll meet you anywhere, I miss you so
Let’s never have to share another early autumn
Autumn, autumn