In 2005 I listened to the same song….Moonlight Sonota…
Then….I had discovered the CD in a box…my brothers x left it behind when they moved out of the house…
I wanted something different to listen to… I had come out of a life long place of despair….
And had all of this wiped away… All of a sudden I felt at peace…and safe… and so happy.
I sat on my first computer… with my dial up modem….
I continued to write in my diary… but mostly I wanted to just sit and let the music absorb into my being…
each key..each note…floating in my brain like fingers touching each bad memory and healing it.
I cried listening to this song…looking at a dingy wall..in my back room….how different from now…looking out a window onto 288 with a view of downtown….
I now see the dark storm clouds hovering above the skyline….gently brushing the tops of the buildings as they pass by….deciding weather or not they want to release their tears….
Same song…different view….
I used to think of not breathing…I think my breathing slowed so much as did my heart rate…when I was in this state…I would say…perhaps my heart will just slowly stop beating for good…and I could fade away in peace….
But I had to stay here for some reason….
At this time… people whom I loved were still alive…
No so now…
Now I look on the outside and things are sunny and beautiful…but on the inside…there is sadness…because the people who saw that same sun also saw the dark storm clouds hovering over their skyline…
Sometimes we get so busy with what we call “life” that we forget the living… Including our own lives…and what it truly means to live..
Before I had a computer…I had a million diaries..and pieces of paper in which I would write my thoughts down…completely different life…but same thoughts.
I have ONE painting… that I did in the late 90’s while listening to Soundgarden’s Fell on Black Days…
when I first saw them at Lallapaloosa …I did not particularly like this type of grunge…being as I needed loud bass and dance rhythm to get me out of my head.
But when I heard Chris Cornell’s 4 octave range…and his passion…his pain...and he was hot AF…(helps)
I said..hmmm…. I understand what he is speaking about…And I embraced wallowing in my dark thoughts as opposed to drowning them out…
So…what is this dark heavy feeling that some of us are plagued with? I don’t think it is exclusive to artists.. (performing and otherwise) we are just more vocal about it.
Others suffer in relative obscurity…
I think it can be described…as a feeling of being forced to be something…do something…live some way…that you are not capable of…but feel like your have to force yourself to literally LIVE…
And living can literally kill you…
I think that life is not just the air in your lungs…the beating of your heart…
But how do we live?
What does it mean to live? We set goals…and things we wish to accomplish….and we do them…
the satisfaction is fleeting…and we feel the need to add another accomplishment…so is this not like the hamster in the wheel?
Tell me how to live…and I will have life…
Back to the painting…
My x has it…in storage it seems… if you flip it on the back..you can see the footprints of my Doberman Pinscher Koby..who has since passed…
I’m a lil miffed this one is in storage..but there is a reason why x’s are x’s lol….
But it was the only Black and White painting I ever did…
still to this day…and it has traveled with me through many relationships…and apartment spaces…
traveled in a convertible Porche…and jeep Cherokee…Chevy Impala…actually 2..a couple of pick up trucks…
its been stepped on…cried on…displayed in shows… moved…cleaned…warped…and now stored somewhere…
When anyone else will look at it…they will see an amateur black and white painting with not much depth…and certainly no colour…
But I had to get those words on that canvas…thought they were not mine…
They belonged to Chris Cornell…while he was still living.
“don’t you lock up something you wanted to see fly…”
Because sometimes people want you to be successful for their own sake…and to have some sort of a possession out of you…(more so for me at this time)
the irony is that…if you lock something up…you really don’t want to see it fly…. Because how can one truly fly if they are locked up?
The lock on the door is usually fear…
And life is just a form of doing time…
I never painted a black and white painting again…maybe I will one day…
I have done small drawings..on paper…
but they will never be the same…
because sometimes….if you look at a particular painting…you can see a hidden self portrait of the artist…
a distorted snapshot of the artists soul… that only the artist can recognize…
So I ponder those that passed… friends…. That this life was so painful…that they had to leave and give up the fight of just trying to live…
And I had no time to grieve…really…
So for some reason…I stop and write this… and think of the friend I had…
And how we looked at that painting together (why black and white Annie?) And he always supported me…
And how we laughed together…and grieved..and went on our adventures….
How he liked Dos XX beer and I like Bohemia…How he hated all my boyfriends… (rightfully so)because they never truly cared about who I was…
We talked of our struggles… heartbreaks…but I just took it for granted…he would always..keep trying to live…
“I'm a search light soul they say
But I can't see it in the night
I'm only faking when I get it right…”
Lyrics by Chris Cornell…
