 Hello, Hollyhocks — just east of Ossington Station. "All I know is that I've wasted all these years looking for something, a sort of trophy I'd get only if I really, really did enough to deserve it. But I don't want it anymore, I want something else now, something warm and sheltering, something I can turn to, regardless of what I do, regardless of who I become. Something that will just be there, always, like tomorrow's sky." Kazuo Ishiguro, When We Were Orphans The symmetry and play in this passage are masterful. How "a sort of trophy" relates to "something warm and sheltering" and, "did enough to deserve it" relates to "regardless of who I become." Using "really" twice. I like a rule breaker. *** I work full-time. And I write. I'm at a point where I can't not do the latter. I attribute it to ten years of practice. I let go of stuff at home to make it work. My mom and I laugh at the idea that's why some men have wives. To clear the way on the domestic front. To create a grand allée toward his bright future. I'm under the influence of the poet Maggie Smith's book You Could Make This Place Beautiful. How her ex-husband shows up for her career success is challenging — it's less than half measures. She paints a portrait of male jealousy. And makes a case for creative women to hold out for something better. *** This header image on Nick Cave's The Red Hand Files yesterday is *chef's kisses.* "I am afraid that I don't think I am the right person to help you navigate my music though. My relationship to my songs is too entangled with their personal history, and I have no clear understanding as to which are the good ones and which are not." As if it's not enough to create music, people need an artist to tell them what's best. Create a list with guarantees — The World's 50 Best Nick Cave Songs. Remember discovery? Listening to all the tracks. Finding a song you love on the B-side. *** The way the girls scream when the curtain drops in the first video. Their young hunger. A musician I miss. George Michael left us with much. And not enough. In the end, he was true to himself. 198419901998Comments are closed.
|
Archives
September 2023
© Deborah Reid, 2021 - 2023. All Rights Reserved. Categories |
RSS Feed