Of Gods & Men & the Undecided

Man, the stuff with the new music material is getting so interesting. I am discovering just how much I already know but that I am now gaining conscious access to in a completely different way.

Everything is getting so much more simplified. (I don’t know – can something get “more” simplified? Wouldn’t it just be “simpler”? You figure it out and get back to me. My brain’s not completely awake yet.)

I cannot wait to see how this material actually works with someone who knows nothing about music. I think it’s going to be extremely interesting, and probably gratifying.

I’m having weird sinus stuff in my head today – well, since last night. I guess pain is the correct word for it. I rarely get headaches of any sort, so when I get weirdly intense, pressure-based ones deep in the center of my head, my first thought is always that a tumor is growing. But some sort of more rational voice (a voice I rarely ever listen to, so I usually don’t give credence to it) is telling me that it’s more likely all this relentless rain and humidity over the last 5 days that’s causing it.

Whichever: Life-threatening tumor or sinus headache; all I know is that my brain is functioning at less than ideal capacity this morning.

I wasn’t even going to blog today. I was going to save my creative brainstuff for the novel, since the writing went so well yesterday. But it seems that I have to get this stream of other words out first, before the Voice from the novel kicks in.

On Instagram yesterday morning, Dana Petty posted the most amazing photo of Tom  that I had ever seen. And he was a man who had thousands and thousands and thousands of pictures taken of him in the course of his 66 years of life. And this one was simply unbelievable to me.

He looked like a Spirit.  He truly did. Like a luminous Spirit. It was taken by Dana in a hotel room in Amsterdam a few years ago. It’s actually his reflection in an enormous mirror, while he’s sitting on the end of a king-sized bed. It looks like it’s the middle of the day. He seems to be intently watching an old black & white movie on a television that seems to be just a little bit above the mirror. It’s hard to figure out in the photo because the TV is reflected on something above and behind him. The whole thing is just ghostly, really.

He looks larger than life and yet not even part of life at the same time. I couldn’t stop looking at it.  All day long, I would go back onto Instagram and look at it – pondering it to no end.

It’s weird to think that I was actually a lot taller than he was, because, in my mind, he really was larger than life. All those rock & rollers from my girlhood that I absolutely worshiped – it turned out that I was a lot taller than all of them. Even when I wasn’t wearing heels, and I’m definitely a gal who likes to wear heels of some sort.

Even Cher, who I’d loved since I was about 5 years old – I thought of her as being the tallest woman ever. And I wound up towering over her, too.  Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, too. A woman of mythical proportions, frankly. And she was just a wisp of a woman.

It does weird things to you, when you’re just towering over all these people who, in your private mind, should have been enormous.

Robert Redford. I mean, my gosh. I never worshiped him, or anything close to that, but he was iconic. An iconic actor from my girlhood! And I totally towered over that guy, to the point that I felt like I needed to back away. I simply didn’t want to know that I was way too tall to be standing next to him in public. And I wasn’t wearing heels, either. And I really don’t think of myself as that tall.  It was too freaky.

Thank goodness Keanu was taller than me – even when I was wearing high-heels. I met him at a party once and he was taller than me. Even though Keanu doesn’t actually mean anything to me, personally or emotionally; for some inexplicable reason, I just don’t want to be taller than Keanu.

This height thing I have is also why it’s been impossible for me to ever have any sort of “kittenish” demeanor, you know? Especially when I’m wearing heels. I’m always greeted more, like: Oh god, here comes trouble.

Many’s the time, folks, that I’ve wished I could be greeted more as “kittenish.” For sure. (Of course, part of it is my mouth; no one ever knows when I’ll be in a foul mood and cursing like a sailor. I have a real problem with the “f” word, even on a good day.)

Well!

In addition to the music material being really incredible yesterday, the Italian lessons went up a notch, too. So that was cool.  They are no longer just throwing words at me, with the occasional phrases.  They are sneaking grammar in now, too.

I’m glad that I already did study some Italian a long time ago, and of course, I’m relying a lot on my knowledge of French, too, so none of this is too difficult. Yet. And so it keeps it really fun. It’s not stressing me out, at all.

Which is good, because I have no shortage of areas within my life that heap stress on me if I so desire them to! At any given moment of any given hour of any given day! Or night!

Plenty-O-Stress, if I want it!

And I really do want to learn Italian this time around.  It’s funny, but it occurred to me recently that the reason I was trying to learn Italian 35 years ago was because Peitor and I had become friends and he wanted me to go to Italy with him.  But I gave up on Italian very early on because I found it too difficult.

(And yet I taught myself to read, write, and speak Mandarin Chinese, so that’s really weird, right? Who the hell knows what goes on in a brain – mine, specifically.)

When Peitor and I met, it was one of those things where we became instant friends – and very good friends. And, obviously, true friends since it is now 35 years later and we couldn’t be closer. We bonded immediately, and not in any sort of amorous way. We came to the conclusion that we were likely brother and sister in another life, since there is no erotic attraction between us at all, but we’ve been incredibly close since the absolute moment we met.

Anyway, all these decades later, I will likely be going to Italy now because of him but not with him, and I’ll be speaking Italian. Isn’t life strange?

Okay.

On that oft-regaled topic here of Nick Cave’s Conversations in Europe… He was in Belgium last night.  For 3 hours. Well, on stage for 3 hours. I’m guessing he was in Belgium a little longer than that, but I guess if all these people are right, and he is actually God, then maybe he’s good at teleporting or something.

HIM (as God): Into Belgium, out of Belgium, 3 hours, total.

I really just don’t know.

I do keep pondering this, though. Because so many people – in Europe, especially – refer to him in some way as God.

I woke up at 3:56am today and my first thought – aside from the aching headache that plagued me with fears of tumors – my first thought was: Does he want to be thought of as God? On some level? Maybe he is subconsciously perpetuating this idea. I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I don’t actually know.

And I don’t actually know that he isn’t God. I have no ready proof, or anything.  But I just keep coming back to this thought that he’s not God. And why would he want to be? It seems like it would surely be hard enough just being Nick Cave. (Or beautiful enough.) (And you are not the only ones I pester with these questions, gentle readers. I pester him with these questions, too.  I leave no stone unturned in my ponderings.)

However, that said. Someone posted another fantastic photo of him last night, again in black & white.  And just beautiful. But most of the postings were in Dutch so I have no clue what anybody said, except for the “3+ hours” part that he was on stage. That was in English.

All righty!!

I’m gonna take a look at Blessed By Light now. See where we’re going with that.  And I hope this headache just goes the fuck away because all I really want to do is go right back to bed.

I didn’t have any breakfast-listening music today because of the headache, but I did have staring-out-the-open-window music from last night. Another true gem (excuse the pun) from The Last DJ:  “Like A Diamond.” I streamed it about 20 times before drifting off to sleep.

And based on that ghostly photo of him that plagued me all day yesterday, it was a fitting end to the evening. It’s such a haunting sort of song about, well, not dying. Ever.

Have a good Thursday, wherever you are in the world, gang. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys! See ya.

Madmen crawl
Across the wall
Knight gets away
Kings all fall
And queens chase men
And saints all sin
And good things
All must end

But she goes on forever
She goes on forever
Yeah, she’s gonna shine forever
Like a diamond
In the sunlight

Big full moon
Above the road
I’m a long long way
From tomorrow
Gotta light my way
Down this highway
To get to her

‘Cause she goes on forever
She goes on forever
Yeah, she’s gonna shine forever
Like a diamond
In the sunlight

Deacons steal
And Ma can’t feel
If you’re lonely
And behind the wheel
When the ground gives way
You have to pray
To the unknown
And hope it’s real

But she goes on forever
She goes on forever
She’s gonna shine forever

She goes on forever
She goes on forever
Yeah, she’s gonna shine forever
Like a diamond
In the sunlight

c – 2002 Tom Petty

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