Vulnicura

I am a glowing shiny rocket 

Returning home 

As I enter the atmosphere 

I burn off layer by layer 

Jettison

-- "Black Lake" by Bjork

i find myself reading as many interviews with Bjork on her latest album Vulnicura as i can get my hands on.

i discovered Bjork in high school, after learning that OLIVIA was a huge fan of hers. this was back in the day when it wasn't as easy to stream free music online. i borrowed Medulla, Vespertine, and Volta from the library. i bought Debut for two dollars from a library sale. some of her songs didn't jive with me, but the ones i loved became regular fixtures in my playlist--Pagan Poetry, Unison, All is Full of Love, and my favorite--Unravel.

in these interviews, Bjork breaks down in tears whenever they probe her about the emotional process of writing this break-up album, following her split with Matthew Barney, the father of her 12 yo daughter and her romantic partner for over a decade.

when your life has been so intricately intertwined with someone else's for that long, what happens when the cords are cut?

some days, i like to imagine that the little ironies in the world are some divine creator's way of sculpting harmony from an oftentimes nonsensical narrative. as i pore over the lyrics of Vulnicura, i hear my old voice rising, conjured from the melodic words like a ghost: on the brink of rupture from burning in degrees Kelvin

"Hey you. Tell me, what happens to a star when it dies? Will it incinerate everything around in a colossal explosion? 

Or will it silently collapse in on itself, a victim of its own flame -- burning and burning until it has burned itself out?"

and stranded in space, three years in the aftermath

"Maybe I wasn't the star. I was the rocket ship, and your heart was the moon. My aim never wavered all those years, but it didn't matter. Once the flame sputtered out, I was trapped in the coldness of space. Somewhere between you and the person I had once been."

and now, here we are--incinerating in a descent back down to the earth, unfurling layer by layer to reveal what's left underneath after all this time. to be born anew.