She was feeling 1972... Grooving to a Carole King tune; Is it too late baby? Is it too late?

I heard a song yesterday that I haven't really listened to in several years.  I was thinking about it yesterday and when I hopped in my car at lunch the song turned on as I turned on the engine.  It was one of those spooky moments, where you think... is someone trying to tell me something?

I don't have a great connection to the year 1972.  It was 13 years before I was born, not a ton of great records came out that year or anything.  I do have some good friends who were born in that year, in fact some influential folk, that I will post about at a later date.

But back to me, my car and my stereo.

You know those moments when a song hits it's cue, like when you pull up somewhere and right as you go to park and turn off the car the song succinctly ends? I like those moments.  There's a nice flow, a cinematic grace that makes you feel that life is a little more than the orbit you know.

I can definitly say this song reminds me of a certain place in time, that seems simultaneously so long ago and all too recent.  The lyrics however seem to resonate, not only with me, but with a lot of people in my life right now.  Particularly the chorus:

We're going through the changes

Hoping for a replacement

Untill we find a way out of this hole 

I can never tell if some people are trying to get themselves out of something by replacing people, places, things, for another similar situation or if they are actually looking for something new, fresh, and untouched.  I know that I am definitely looking for the latter part in my life, but I have my moments where I pause and I wonder... am I trying to replace someone? something? Am I trying to recreate a part of my life, that as I look back now, I enjoyed?

Is life just a series of events that we build off the things we know?  Trying to replace something, and in turn creating a whole new manifestation, not completely free from the 'original' but no where near truly replacing something that is utterly nonpareil.

I wonder if my love and fascination with motorcycles has something with my childhood love for horseback riding.  I wonder if anything I love is truly my own affection, or is it something that was indentured to me long ago and I just keep trying to interpret that feeling in my life.

I speculate everything relates back to something.  If we are all imprinted upon at a young age, and we circle for a 'type' over and over again.  A love for people with specific colored eyes, a look, a certain personality trait that reminds us of someone, somewhere, that left a positive impression.

On the other side of things, I worry that someone will use me to replace something. No one wants to be an understudy, but was there ever a choice?  We're trying reaching out for what seems distinctly familiar, but foreign enough to seem new.  We only seem to appreciate what we have until, as cliche as it sounds, it's gone.

Like art, we create then recreate, then recreate again. Inspire, influence, interpret, produce.  I sometimes ponder if what we really strive for. To be the one to make that initial impression on someone, that sets a standard, an expectation, to be the one thing that someone will try to spend their life replacing.  Whenever I envision the things/people I want in my life, I can't help but pause and realize that I want those things because they remind me of something or someone else.  It's frustrating and I hope there's some original inspiration to those ambitions.  It's a concept that has continued to keep my brain chattering as of recent and likely will for awhile.

Replacement. Understudy. Auxiliary.

P.s. These photos were taken by me at a certain apple tree at an undisclosed location in a specific suburban town.