On Friday I headed down here to Brooklyn again to hang out with Tupelo and to go to a couple of Celebrate Brooklyn gigs. All that went relatively well, although I was extremely logey and feeling the need for a nap, which I didn't really get.
Celebrate Brooklyn was okay, but we sat in a steady drizzle for a good 45 minutes or an hour during the Aurelio Martinez set (he is excellent). And yes we had umbrellas. By the time Ladysmith Black Mambazo came on, we were just damp damp damp. And although they sing beautifully, I was too tired and clammy to sit still for much longer. We left. The bandshell was utterly utterly jammed and it was quite an ordeal to go against the tide to get out.
John had sent me a message earlier that Mary, his mother, was moving into another phase of the final passage. She was not expected to live through the night. Likely that, too, added to my general unease. I didn't sleep all that well, comfortable though it is here. In the middle of the night, I got up to check the time and found this very sad email message:
something to chase my black & - blues away. (Really more of a black, purplish, bruisey looking BLUES.) So depressed -- there should be a new word for it. Caught in the Bermuda triangle of anxiety, paralysis and panic with a lot of intense unfathomable sadness in the middle. I feel like I'm going down. They'll never recover my body -- they'll just say, 'the sadness is just too DEEP.' And of course they'll be right.
You know? -- ' don't try looking in there, no no no -- that can come to NO GOOD. Stay outside that triangle. Absolutely nothing interesting about it. No life down there. Not even those evil looking fish with the phosphorescent glow & Komodo dragon scales and super-Piranha fangs....' Ya know?
Okay -- just trying to let this train of thought go. Sending the train through that dark dark tunnel of UNlove. No light at the end of that tunnel.... just keep going.
Okay -- I'll try to keep walking. Something's burning on the stove now. Great.
Yeah. I do know.
I had an unexpected conversation at a meeting on Saturday morning. I was still absorbing all of that, not sure of what I was feeling. I spent a bit of time reading The Light Between Oceans (do not believe the reviews, not worth the time) because I had started it, it is reasonably skimmable, and I am almost behind on my yearly reading challenge so I need some fodder while I plough through The Brothers Karamazov.
When I finally staggered around to find my cellphone, there was a message from John that his mother had passed away at around 11:30 a.m. Sigh. So keep that pallor on the day.
Seems like everything
lead up to this day
and it's just like every day
that's ever been.
Sun goin' up
and then the sun
it goin' down.
I don't even entirely know where the rest of the day went. I worked on the graphic novel and read. Stumbled around, even if only in my thoughts. I finally caught up with my own mother via telephone. And I took a satisfying nap (always important to me).
Os Mutantes were playing at Celebrate Brooklyn and they were part of the reason I came down here. It was tough to get out of the house after the nap, and I had missed the opening acts. I encouraged myself to just check it out. So I walked up to the park, found a seat in the second row of general admission, sat down, and the band came out and played. That did make me feel a bit better about my place in the universe. But, alas! Os Mutantes didn't raise my spirits much, and I was starving, so I left after about 30 minutes. I got a taste. Plus, I made an effort and got out of the house.
Oh why this chronicle? Because I haven't written in a couple of days? Because that edge of dualities I wrote about earlier this week has spread into a fog of life obscurity and a calm, constant confusion and questioning. I feel very insecure and that I know nothing. Least of all myself. I could easily doubt gravity at this moment. And I am clueless about where to find ... Solace? Knowledge? Direction? Purpose?
I feel this for more than just myself. Seems as if more and more of my friends or our wider circles are less and less happy, accomplished, or sure/secure. I can feel the tension or see small tears in the fabrics of well-being or reasonable status quos. If there were ever a moment for me to find ... um ... religion, well this would be it. Yet, what I know of them does not appeal. I trust very little.
One way or another
One way or another
One way or another
this darkness got to give
One way or another
One way or another
One way or another
this darkness got to give
I am not so sure.
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| Tupelo likes ice cubes in his water bowl. |
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