The Patti Smith to my Robert Mapplethorpe sent me this song the other night. It is entirely too perfect and pertinent to my situation as of right now, although the "listen more to your friends" part is actually really helping me out. In fact, it is finding reflective elements in the people around me, striking chords and resonating tones that has lead me to solace and comfort. Over the weekend, I have experienced so much support and love that sometimes I felt like my ribcage was made of bird bone and people could see my heart beating much too fast through my thin skin.
And although I feel ragged and centuries old, my friend reminded me that I am, we are at the morning of our lives. But I'm not sure the dawn ever ends. There is always something new, something different, someone or some place waiting to be discovered. If I have learned anything from the women in my family (whose stories should be told, and perhaps will find their ways onto this blog), you never, ever stop growing and learning.
I'm excited for the adventure.
Note: The other morning, I woke to see my walls blushing. This photo was taken looking out my window.
Another note: Pardon all of the Patti Smith references as of late. I had the incredible opportunity to see her talk about her latest book, Just Kids, at Seattle Arts and Lectures last week. From our $10 seats, she looked like she was about twenty years old, wearing worn jeans stuffed into Doc Martens and gray men's t-shirt. Her voice was like worn leather, and she swallowed her "g's" and kept saying, "When I writ this book...". She ended the night with an acapella version of "Because the Night", with which the audience sang along to the chorus. To hear her voice fill a symphony hall was nothing short of astounding, crazy, and cool.