Okay. Well. I’m having a good morning here. I honestly am.
I slept in until 6am. Awoke happy. The first thing I did was start streaming “Clementine” by Jean Goldkette & His Orchestra, featuring Bix Beiderbecke (1927).
If you don’t know this tune then that’s probably why there’s a big hole in your life (listen now and everything will finally be fine!):
Anyway, I continued streaming it while getting the cats fed and getting my own breakfast together. (And it was quite a surreal tune to listen to while watching 7 feral cats pace about the floor in anticipation of breakfast.) But I finally turned it off while I was actually eating my own breakfast.
But the whole time, I was thinking intensely about Nick Cave. (I want to say again that the theater he had his Conversation in last night, in Wiesenbad, Germany, was just jaw-dropping. All the Instagram posts were so beautiful. There were quite a few more posts by this morning.)
After breakfast, I took my coffee cup and went back upstairs to meditate, like I always do. I set my coffee cup on my night table and suddenly realized that I had a totally different coffee cup from the one I thought I had!
This is really intensely bizarre for someone like me, because I guarantee you my cups and my breakfast bowls always match, and they are always seasonal. For instance, I would never, ever in a million years, use my summer coffee cup with the brightly colored flowers on it in the dead of winter. It’s just never gonna happen. Ever.
But I thought I was drinking out of my red vintage Kellogg’s mug that I use all during January, when I suddenly realized I was drinking out of this one instead — and I’d been drinking out of it for nearly an hour already before I noticed it:
If you’re new to this blog — like, if this is your first day here — you’ll just think I’m superficially crazy. But I have a thing about dishes. A seriously deep-rooted addiction to them. I’m deeply crazy — it’s not superficial. I would never sit down to breakfast (in my own kitchen) with a cup that didn’t match my bowl.
And this one is my pre-Easter coffee cup. I use this cup and its matching bowl from Mardis Gras up until Easter. (Seriously — and on Easter morning, I change to the pastel yellow set with the single bas relief fleur de lis on it.)
So weird that I reached for this one today, filled it, drank from it, re-filled it, took it upstairs…. without noticing I’d done it. But what’s even sort of weirder, in my opinion, is that it’s the only coffee cup I own that was made in Germany.
I was thinking about Nick Cave in Germany and I picked up that cup! And it was made at Waechtersbach, which is only about an hour from Wiesbaden. Don’t you think that’s so weird?
Well, anyway. I do.
So, what I was thinking about Nick Cave is that these snippets of him singing (on Instagram) — the songs are all slowed down from their normal tempos (as were yesterday’s posts from Baden-Baden). And I keep feeling like he’s sad.
And then I think that I’m just projecting something on to these songs because there’s no way to really know, since the videos are micro-short, and none of the videos are of him talking to the audience. The photos of him talking to the audience are really lovely, though, even though he’s not smiling in any of them, but then he almost never smiles. (I don’t know, maybe at home he smiles constantly so, by the time he’s out in public, he’s just tired of it.) Although, here’s a photo I love. I don’t remember when this is from, but it’s not that long ago.
Anyway, this wasn’t supposed to be a Nick Cave tribute or anything. I was actually really thinking about the difference between projecting feelings that come from within us, and receiving information that comes from outside of us. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say: receiving information that comes from deeper within us.
Receiving is just way more accurate than projecting, but you really have to tune in to your feelings, or thoughts, and get clarity, you know? Is this feeling coming from me — a sort of reflexive reaction from my brain– or is it coming to me from somewhere deeper?
This is something I think about a lot — ever since I began keeping the Inner Being journals every morning. It’s been 7 months now that I’ve been doing it — what I call “dialogues” with my Inner Being. Writing them down, right after meditation. Or, if for some reason I don’t meditate (which is rare, but it happens), then I do it right before I sit down at my desk.
I haven’t missed a day dialoguing with my Inner Being in 7 months.
And I am really learning to be wary of coming to conclusions that are based on projecting rather than on receiving. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with always wanting clarity on everything, but I am. Which was why this thing with the coffee cup this morning just really startled me. I’m usually just so intensely aware of every single fucking moment…
I know! You’re wondering: Gosh, how come she lives alone? She’d be so nice to come home to!!
In fact, I don’t usually even say “hello”. Instead:
ME (seeing you coming up the walk from a long, hard day, then I open the screen door): “You know what I was thinking?” (then I proceed to tell you exactly what I was thinking. All day.)
YOU: (complete silence, as you hope against hope that there’s still beer in the fridge.)
Well, this is something else I’ve been curious about. I have this sort of pronounced feeling that “all is well” in my life now. And it seems to be coming from this relationship I have with my adoptive dad, which, to put it in the tiniest nutshell you can possibly imagine, has not been easy. And this morning, I was wondering why I’m feeling that way right now, and I realized that this is the first time, since I was a really young girl, that there hasn’t been a wife between him and me. (This doesn’t include my adoptive mother because he was actually the person who protected me from my adoptive mother.) Even though I loved both of my stepmoms, I really did — they were both really nice to me. It just feels different now that the wives are gone. There’s no longer another person there that, you know, means everything to him. (Even though, obviously, he’s still thinking about my stepmom constantly, and grieving deeply for her.)
But this is a new feeling for me. Almost like I exist again. Something like that.
Okay. I’m now seeing that there’s a new Red Hand Files thingy from Nick Cave in my inbox! I shall go investigate it. And then get on with my day. I’m expecting to get some really good stuff done with the revisions of Tell My Bones today, because I finally got some good insights yesterday.
Have a great Wednesday, wherever it leads you! Feel free to come visit, if you’d like to know every single thing I’ve been thinking about while you were away… (yes, there’s beer in the fridge — leftover from when my birth mom was here). I leave you with what I was listening to last night, while drifting off to sleep. “Black & Tan Fantasie” by Duke Ellington, 1928. An erotic little tune, actually. (Although, probably my favorite Duke Ellington song is “Take the A Train.”) All righty. I love you guys. See ya.