Notes from the Field

Talking Heads - Speaking in Tongues

Dear Diary, The Name of The Band is Talking Heads.

Occasionally… I have other things in my thoughts, outside of the daily experience. Often, music is a part of those things.. . how it makes me feel, the memories conjured from a few opening notes. I hope that everyone has this inside of them somewhere. This morning when I awoke, Iniyal and I went into the dining room to have light breakfast with the other teachers as we do each day. I saw her off, and retired to my room to catch up on a few things… one of them these words.

If I was to have a favourite song… perhaps scrawled on the cliche list of top ten songs you would want to have with you on a desert island. How absurd when you think of what the professor could throw together with a few coconuts and some reeds. Meanwhile… top songs or top records… whichever is on the list… If I was to have a favourite song… a song to share with everyone I ever meet….there is one song that I have never grown tired of.

Talking Heads – Speaking in Tongues

When I was still small… my earliest recollection of hearing Talking Heads was somewhere in the early part of the nineteen eighties when it had been first released (1983). Somewhere around the time that “Speaking in Tongues” was released, I heard it being played in my cousins Camaro as he drove my brother and I around some rural Manitoban town. I am going to assume it was Dauphin Manitoba… but I cannot be sure. This was the same summer I found, under the seat at a Manitoban McDonalds, a Seiko Automatic watch. A watch that probably inspired my interest in self winding watches, or time itself. Both are quite fascinating. I later gave it to my father in a trade. He still wears it.

My cousin played the cassette… I was immediately enthralled. A fresh young mind being spoon fed such delicious weird. The music was nothing I had ever really heard before. It was inoffensive… subtle strange… like an unusual flower… unique in every way, but in no way ugly. The Name of Band is Talking Heads.

I immediately bought the cassette for myself when I returned to my home in B.C. I later purchased the vinyl… and as soon as I made the official switch to CD… I bought that too. I have spent well over twenty years listening to this album and digging, above all, one particular track. I grew up with Talking Heads.
This Must Be The Place….

“Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round”

Talking Heads

These words open the lyrics after a such a calming and lovely intro. Musically, the song is brilliant. I’m not a musician, but the arrangement is clever, sublime. Anyone who would say otherwise has never heard it – and I wish they would. Talking Heads were known for their thoughtful song writing and moving lyrics.

Its raining lightly again, here, in my new home, Guatemala City. It rained heavily last night. Loud heavy rain. I am alone with my thoughts… patiently, through the day, keeping busy, waiting as patiently as possible for Iniyal to return from school. I play this song and I am transported back to no where specific. I am transported back to a feeling, a sensation, a memory that I cannot recall, lingering close to my heart like a ghost of a moment. If Iniyal was here she would dance secretly when I turned my back and sing softly under her breathe. She has a beautiful voice.

“Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round”

…strangely, the home I am thinking is not the home I left, but the home I have arrived at, my new home. The home in my heart is my mom and dad (who I miss more than I ever tell), my family and friends in another place. Home is the place that lifts you up when you feel down. Home can be many things and should never be anchored… but nomadic and free. Home is here with me. With us, Iniyal and I wherever we are together. “And you love me till my heart stops / Love me till I’m dead

This Must Be the Place || Talking Heads || Speaking in Tongues

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb – born with a weak heart
I guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It’s ok I know nothing’s wrong . . nothing


Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you’re standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up and say goodnight . . . say goodnight


Home – is where I want to be
But I guess I’m already there
I come home – she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
I can’t tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time Before we were born
If someone asks, this is where I’ll be . . . where I’ll be


Hi yo We drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
I’m just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I’m dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head Ah ooh

**This post was originally written while in Guatemala City, 2007 for the Guatemala Travel Blog. More Here – #guatemala

Mr Hryhorczuk

Randy Hryhorczuk is an artist based in Whitby, Ontario, specializing in oil painting and linocut printmaking. With over 25 years of experience, Randy creates portraits, abstracts, still life (including pay phones and mall rides), and urban landscapes (featuring billboards and streets) from his art studio. He has participated in community-based arts initiatives, art fairs, and juried art exhibitions both as a participating artist and as part of an organizing team.