Dear Taylor,
I've always been a highly reflective person. Not in the sense that I have any talent writing songs, but in that I like to look on each moment in my day, each day in my life, etc. and try to see how something, anything really, is part of the bigger picture that shapes who I am. One of the ways I tend to do this is through photographs; I took many during my years in high school and college to capture moments I thought I would want to remember forever...the football games, the sorority mixers, the spring break trips, etc. But more recently I have come to realize that as much as I love photographing the events of my life, I have become significantly happier with the life I have built that exists in the photographs of my mind. Like a scrapbook of many elements, I am taken back to the days of my youth with the smell of a bonfire, the sight of my childhood street, the sound of crickets chirping when I wake up in the morning, and so on and so forth. I often marvel at the fact that exposure to even the slightest of one of the senses takes me back to these photographs in my mind.
I guess maybe I should circle back to the point. You see, a few months ago (the date was April 25 to be exact), a friend's sister posted on Twitter that she could remember where she was and what she was doing each time a different "era" began. A few months later (it was around July 7 I believe), I was talking with another friend when it came up just how lucky we felt to have had the opportunity to grow up with such incredible music. And how, just as the eras came and went with their respective tastes and reputations (come on, I had to!), so too did we grow up within and between them, capturing our own memories and milestones along the way.
I was 12 years old when I heard Tim McGraw for the first time on the radio. My dad had come from work, and we were getting ready for dinner when he announced he heard a "terrific new country artist" on the radio and that I "would absolutely love her" because she was "not much older than [me]." I don't remember the exact duration between that conversation and the time I heard that song, but I remember I was in the car with my dad going to school when it came on the radio. It was sometime in October of my 7th grade year; I was wearing my blue oxford button-down uniform top and a khaki skirt. It was somewhere in the middle of the commute because we were in the part before the expressway where the road was lined with dozens of trees. I was indifferent at the time - pop music was all the rage at that time - and little did I know the impact that teenage would have on my life years down the road.
I was 13 when Taylor Swift Deluxe came out. Just the day before, I had been informed I was 1 of 6 girls cut from the field of 18 to make the middle school competitive dance team. I heard The Outside and A Place In This World and immediately felt understood. I had connected with an artist on a personal level for the first time. It was a Friday in October, I was home from school for a 3-day weekend.
I was a freshman in high school when Fearless the album came out. My mom and I had preordered it through Taylor Nation, at a time when you could preorder the CDs for their arrival the day of the album release. We were driving across town so I could get a haircut when Fifteen came on. I kid you not, for as much as I felt "connected" to an artist before, it took all of half a lyric "it's your freshman year..." for me to realize it was something more than a fandom. It was something raw and real, and my high school anthem was born on that November day.
Speak Now was the first album I listened to in its entirety when I got my driver's license and first car. While the place I grew up does not necessarily get all that cold, I can still remember to this day hearing Back to December every time I drove home from school that winter.
Red came at a time when I was feeling-for lack of a better word-red. I was a freshman in college, and my first semester experience up until that point had basically been defined by a hurricane and a roommate situation that left me living alone in a 2-person dorm while looking for someone new to share the space with. I remember thinking Begin Again was the best song I had ever heard, and it was the first song that really pulled me out of a funk that had me hating everything around me. It was raining that day, and I played it on repeat for the entire day, doing everything from working out to studying to falling asleep.
1989 I remember being the first era that my friends started publicly sharing their like of this music. Shake It Off came out the week I helped work new student orientation, and the video was the first thing I remember watching in my new apartment. It was the first album I felt like an adult fan...I was an upperclassman in college, living with roommates "off campus" and primarily listened to in the car. I also remember feeling like a "fake fan" for not being able to attend the concert tour because I had to make adult/life decisions like studying abroad for the summer and prioritizing things like student organizations and GRE prep.
Look What You Made Me Do came out the Friday before I started graduate school, and for the first time in what felt like my whole life it seemed I knew less than everyone else what was going on in the universe. My reactions went from confused to intrigued to excited, and I remember thinking it would be the perfect song for a workout playlist. It ended up on the final cut of the playlist I listened to in my first ~marathon~ a mere 4 and a half months later.
It probably seems I am rambling at this point, and if there's one thing you should know about me as a blogger it's that I am absolutely terrible at conclusions. So to make up for that, I will leave you with this. Music tells many different stories. There is the story that inspired the artist to write the song. There is the story that went into writing the song. There is the story the listener perceives, the critics contemplate, the general public summarize. But without each of us, and our little life experiences (like wearing a uniform on the way to 7th grade or walking in a rainstorm to Ed Psych class), there would not be the million stories that music has allowed us to live and tell as the listeners for whom the music served as the soundtrack to our lives.
Long live the magic we made and bring on all the pretenders. One day we will be remembered.
LoveLoveLove,
Hannah
September 6, 2019
August 28, 2019
Way too loud
Dear Taylor,
It's Wednesday night, I'm once again sitting on my balcony in awe of the beautiful scenery and weather around me, a bowl of warm pasta in my lap, when all of a sudden You Need to Calm Down comes blaring through my AirPods. In any other moment, I would have taken the opportunity to "skip" the song and go on to the next quiet, more peaceful and relatable song that is Afterglow, but instead, I let myself listen to a more upbeat tune that puts me into a good mood just as the sun is going down.
As a thirteen-year fan, I can truly attest to the fact that there is not one song released in the past thirteen years I truly did not like. Of course there are some I like better than others; I listen to different songs when I am working out in the morning, driving to and from work, and falling asleep. I have days where I listen to one album on repeat and days when a single song is on repeat for 10, 20, maybe 50 times before I even consider changing it to something else. It is the magic of lyrics and melodies that draw me in, and I have been able to relate to each song in one way or another over the past thirteen years. That being said, that mantra is what this blog is truly about: the connection of the listener to the music, and quite possibly there is no better way to connect this topic to the moment I experienced tonight than to share my YNTCD story.
It's a rather short one, to be honest. I was on the last week of a 4-week break between graduation and starting my job when I decided to spend an afternoon getting lost in an art gallery near my apartment at the time. I'm fortunate to live in a place with easy access to some of the greatest museums in the country, but two years of a rigorous graduate program and the constant plague of weekend work made it hard to enjoy any free time that in all honesty was better allocated towards functioning as a decent human-activities such as sleeping, eating, running errands before certain products ran out, and catching up on a good book/movie. So on one of the last few days of pure "freedom," I let myself get lost in an art gallery I had only visited briefly once in my three years living there. So sure enough when my phone buzzed that afternoon {albeit at an unusual time when no one would need to reach me}, you could imagine my excitement at the announcement of a livestream the next day at 5pm.
The day of June 13 I was entirely and completely lazy. I slept in, worked out, and in an effort to get out of the house and pass the time, walked to a nearby spa and got a pedicure. It was the perfect way to spend my last day being 24 years old. Come 5:00, my friends and I were abuzz with excitement as the livestream began. In a matter of minutes, the prospect of turning 25 went from depressing to exciting...a new single! a new album! in two months! a new video! And to top it all off I was spending the evening with my friends at a baseball game...which we mutually used to pass the time until midnight.
So how does this all tie together you may ask? You see, You Need to Calm Down may not be my most favorite Taylor Swift song ever; it is probably not even in my top 5 songs from Lover, but it holds a special place in my heart as the single that was released on my 25th birthday. Track 14 on June 14th. And while my friends and family may have asked me to calm down repeatedly upon its release and try to convince me otherwise, I will never not accept You Need to Calm Down as the birthday present gifted to me by the queen of pop herself in honor of 25 years of living and 13 years as a fan. And for that, I will always proudly bop along to the true award-winning classic it is.
LoveLoveLove,
Hannah
It's Wednesday night, I'm once again sitting on my balcony in awe of the beautiful scenery and weather around me, a bowl of warm pasta in my lap, when all of a sudden You Need to Calm Down comes blaring through my AirPods. In any other moment, I would have taken the opportunity to "skip" the song and go on to the next quiet, more peaceful and relatable song that is Afterglow, but instead, I let myself listen to a more upbeat tune that puts me into a good mood just as the sun is going down.
As a thirteen-year fan, I can truly attest to the fact that there is not one song released in the past thirteen years I truly did not like. Of course there are some I like better than others; I listen to different songs when I am working out in the morning, driving to and from work, and falling asleep. I have days where I listen to one album on repeat and days when a single song is on repeat for 10, 20, maybe 50 times before I even consider changing it to something else. It is the magic of lyrics and melodies that draw me in, and I have been able to relate to each song in one way or another over the past thirteen years. That being said, that mantra is what this blog is truly about: the connection of the listener to the music, and quite possibly there is no better way to connect this topic to the moment I experienced tonight than to share my YNTCD story.
It's a rather short one, to be honest. I was on the last week of a 4-week break between graduation and starting my job when I decided to spend an afternoon getting lost in an art gallery near my apartment at the time. I'm fortunate to live in a place with easy access to some of the greatest museums in the country, but two years of a rigorous graduate program and the constant plague of weekend work made it hard to enjoy any free time that in all honesty was better allocated towards functioning as a decent human-activities such as sleeping, eating, running errands before certain products ran out, and catching up on a good book/movie. So on one of the last few days of pure "freedom," I let myself get lost in an art gallery I had only visited briefly once in my three years living there. So sure enough when my phone buzzed that afternoon {albeit at an unusual time when no one would need to reach me}, you could imagine my excitement at the announcement of a livestream the next day at 5pm.
The day of June 13 I was entirely and completely lazy. I slept in, worked out, and in an effort to get out of the house and pass the time, walked to a nearby spa and got a pedicure. It was the perfect way to spend my last day being 24 years old. Come 5:00, my friends and I were abuzz with excitement as the livestream began. In a matter of minutes, the prospect of turning 25 went from depressing to exciting...a new single! a new album! in two months! a new video! And to top it all off I was spending the evening with my friends at a baseball game...which we mutually used to pass the time until midnight.
So how does this all tie together you may ask? You see, You Need to Calm Down may not be my most favorite Taylor Swift song ever; it is probably not even in my top 5 songs from Lover, but it holds a special place in my heart as the single that was released on my 25th birthday. Track 14 on June 14th. And while my friends and family may have asked me to calm down repeatedly upon its release and try to convince me otherwise, I will never not accept You Need to Calm Down as the birthday present gifted to me by the queen of pop herself in honor of 25 years of living and 13 years as a fan. And for that, I will always proudly bop along to the true award-winning classic it is.
LoveLoveLove,
Hannah
August 27, 2019
I only see daylight
Dear Taylor,
It's Tuesday night, I've just come off my longest day of the week at work, and all I want to do is curl up in bed, eat a pint of ice cream and fall asleep. My brain is fried, and yet somehow I muster up the energy to make dinner-a bowl of pasta reheated with chicken and some tomato sauce, grab my water bottle and a towel, and sit on the balcony of my new apartment. The music of Lover drowns the sound of the planes taking off and landing just miles away, the neighbors downstairs using the community grill, and lingering traffic on the street to my left. It is a beautiful night.
It's Tuesday night, I've just come off my longest day of the week at work, and all I want to do is curl up in bed, eat a pint of ice cream and fall asleep. My brain is fried, and yet somehow I muster up the energy to make dinner-a bowl of pasta reheated with chicken and some tomato sauce, grab my water bottle and a towel, and sit on the balcony of my new apartment. The music of Lover drowns the sound of the planes taking off and landing just miles away, the neighbors downstairs using the community grill, and lingering traffic on the street to my left. It is a beautiful night.
Daylight comes on through my AirPods and I can't help but take in the moment. "I only see daylight" I say to myself as Taylor serenades my Tuesday evening. Daylight is a funny concept to me nowadays, as a mere two months ago I started my first "real-world" post-grad job and while I absolutely love the work I do-it is meaningful and fulfilling and makes for wonderful stories at the end of the week-I can't help but feel a ping of sadness that the days are already starting to get shorter and my daylight hours are dwindling as summer slowly-but ever so surely-transitions to fall. You see, this wouldn't nearly have bothered me three weeks ago; only very recently did I just pack up my life and move across state lines to a new home so I could be closer to the job I love. And as much as I loved my previous home-it was in a busy sprawling city, close to friends and family I love-the fact that it backed up to another apartment building meant daylight exposure was limited to whatever sunshine happened to peek through the alleyway that separated me from my neighbors. I had to "actively prepare" to step outside, and only then could I judge if it was sufficient to meet my needs in that moment. But this new place, albeit further from the busy city and my friends and family, has allowed me to experience daylight in a new way of sorts. Whether I have spent the simplest day at home doing chores and watching TV, or have come home from a long day at work, I have the option to sit on my balcony, reflect on life, and soak up daylight in its purest form.
Daylight hits home for me because not only have I listened to it every time I have sat on my balcony in the past few days, it is a constant reminder to take in the moment and truly appreciate each day for what it is. I may be tired from work, and this may just be me going on and on for no good reason, but I want to say thank you for inspiring me to make this simplest change in my new life. The daylight hours may be dwindling, but my new life is beginning, and I cannot wait to see what is in store.
LoveLoveLove,
Hannah
August 25, 2019
Nice To Meet You, Where You Been?
I could show you incredible things. Or this blog. I think I'll show you this blog.
More to come about Me! later, but I'll start with the basics.
In 2006, I listened to an artist for the first time. She was sixteen and had just released her first album to country radio, a song called Tim McGraw, which I remember thinking was strange at the time because as a regular country music listener along with my family I thought of him as an icon and her as a newcomer. Nevertheless, I was hooked and soon the song fell into the hundred or so that I could listen to on my iPod shuffle.
From then on, my life as a Taylor Swift fan was born and there was no looking back. Now, at the ripe age of 25, I continue to listen to-and occasionally obsess over-the artist I fell in love with as a preteen in the early days of middle school.
I'm no social media superstar; Instagram came out in my late high school years, and don't even get me started on Tumblr, but when I realized I needed a new creative outlet I decided to revert back to what had always been fun, relaxing, enjoyful (is that even a word???) for me...and that's blogging. Love Letters to Taylor Swift is exactly as it sounds, a series of love letters to the artist who has been a permanent fixture in my life since she was introduced and quite possibly the longest relationship with a friend I've ever had.
I hope you enjoy my reflections, but more than that, I look forward to sharing all my reflections and experiences with you.
Love(r),
Hannah
More to come about Me! later, but I'll start with the basics.
In 2006, I listened to an artist for the first time. She was sixteen and had just released her first album to country radio, a song called Tim McGraw, which I remember thinking was strange at the time because as a regular country music listener along with my family I thought of him as an icon and her as a newcomer. Nevertheless, I was hooked and soon the song fell into the hundred or so that I could listen to on my iPod shuffle.
From then on, my life as a Taylor Swift fan was born and there was no looking back. Now, at the ripe age of 25, I continue to listen to-and occasionally obsess over-the artist I fell in love with as a preteen in the early days of middle school.
I'm no social media superstar; Instagram came out in my late high school years, and don't even get me started on Tumblr, but when I realized I needed a new creative outlet I decided to revert back to what had always been fun, relaxing, enjoyful (is that even a word???) for me...and that's blogging. Love Letters to Taylor Swift is exactly as it sounds, a series of love letters to the artist who has been a permanent fixture in my life since she was introduced and quite possibly the longest relationship with a friend I've ever had.
I hope you enjoy my reflections, but more than that, I look forward to sharing all my reflections and experiences with you.
Love(r),
Hannah
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