"I merely took the energy it takes to pout and wrote some blues." Duke Ellington

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

A.L.I.C.Iiiiii.Alicia.

Say it like you're saying Gloria. like Patti Smith. Alicia.
you're in my heart. you're in my dreams. you're in my soul.
You are a strong wind
and I am a tree.
blown by you, bent by you
(the birds won't sit in my branches)
Alone you are silent, but everything you touch sounds your call.
What do you say?
I heard a scream.
there is also a whisper to the lovely sky.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

The Moon

[I took this picture last June in the field across from Alicia's old apartment. There were storms passing north and south of Holland.. the sky was ominous, magnificent. I made her come and watch the clouds with me. ]

February 9th is 6 months since Alicia died. It will be a full moon. I wanted to post something that would honor the day. Alicia wrote this for a class last spring. Its perfect- a poignant expression of her thoughts on death through interpretation of Cat Power's song, The Moon.

The Moon by Cat Power, from The Greatest:
The moon is not only beautiful
It is so far away
The moon is not only ice cold
It is here to stay
When I lay me down
Will you still be around
When they put me six feet underground
Will the big bad beautiful you be around
Everyone says they know you
Better than you know who
Everyone says they own you
More than you do
When I lay me down
Will you still be around
When they put you six feet underground
Will the big bad beautiful moon be around
Cuz the moon is not only beautiful
It is so far away
The moon is not only ice cold
It is here to stay
Everyone says they know you
Better than you know who
Everyone says they own you
More than you do

Poetry and music can act as immediate expressions of the ineffable parts of our lives, heir open-endedness allowing one’s true thoughts and feelings to surface. When I die, I want people to know how I felt about dying, that I accepted death and tried to give myself to it as humbly as possible. “The Moon” could be my epitaph because it is a simple, beautiful song that uses the moon as symbol of death by invoking its mystery and distance. I share her sentiment that death is emotional, yet ambiguous and undefined.
In this song, the moon Cat Power sings about is not the moon visited by astronauts, but the moon all of us here on earth look up at on a clear night. It is the mythical moon that holds hidden shelves of our unfulfilled dreams. It is familiar because it is always above us, hanging in the sky. It is not invasive, does not interfere with our lives here on earth, yet the very sight of it is a comfort and we revel in its beauty. Orbiting the earth in its own constant cycle, the moon abides by the earth’s laws, but remains far away. Even as the moon is indifferent to our human lives, it watches over us, waits for us. Many songs have been written about the moon. It is associated with the feminine side of existence, darkness, the occult, and emotions. Like a person only has one death, the earth only has one moon.
When Cat Power sings “The Moon”, she invokes all of its history and metaphors. I believe she uses the moon to sing about death. Her description of the moon as distant and cold recalls the mystery of death. What she chooses to not say about the moon is equally powerful. She does not refer to death through the moon as a friend or neighbor, a warm and heavenly place where our friends and loved ones who have passed away wait for us. The moon is far away; it evades us. How can we know its landscape? Cat Power tells us the moon is here to stay, describing it as something infinite. It gives us perspective on our human existence, that maybe we are not as important as we like to think. However, it is also comforting to know that there is something large and mysterious that will embrace us one day, take each of us back into itself. This reminds me of the Hours when Virginia Wolfe says to her little niece that when we die, we go back to the place from which we came. I have always loved an idea that brushes against the infinite while appealing to reason. Before death and after death are places beyond imagination; it makes sense to think of them as one in the same, life just a brief moment of consciousness until we slip back into oblivion. It is such a beautiful nightmare we are dreaming together.
Cat Power sings to the moon, questioning if it will be there after she is in the ground. In this moment, she reveals that for her, the moon, like death is not a destination. Rather, it is something that happens to all living things, and therefore has a life of its own. The most direct reference Cat Power makes to death is when she calls the moon big and bad. Death scares us. Fear of death is a fundamental sorrow of human existence. However, death can also be a comfort or a strike of pity for a wretched life. It can be beautiful, triumphant. It is fair because it always allows for new life. In a forest of ash, wildflowers will grow. An empty house can become the home for a new family.
Cat Power asks if the moon will be around after she is in the ground because she wants to know that life will go on without her. It is a selfless desire. She will miss the world, in spite of all its absurdity. When she talks about everyone who says they know who the Moon is and says they own it, this seems to be a comment on how many people act as if they know what death is and what to expect in the afterlife. She calls out this arrogance and attempts to give the power back to the moon, back to death. When I die, I want to leave the world with this kind of grace. I want to humbly place myself in the hands of death and accept whatever comes next.
One of the most interesting parts of this song is when Cat Power sings about the moon’s death: “When they put you six feet underground / will the big, bad beautiful you (moon) be around?” The moon is outliving its own death, and in a poetic kind of way, this expresses the idea that death itself will die one day. At the same time, she sees death as an infinite force that outlasts everything, even its own end. Death is inescapable. Death owns us and it owns itself, and in the end everything must give in to it. There is an undercurrent of Christianity, a reference to Revelations and the end of the earth. This theme of death’s end is also reminiscent of John Donne’s sonnets. However, Cat Power frames this idea as a question, expressing her own uncertainty about the nature of death.
The beauty of this song is in its simplicity and I hope this would be comforting to those I left behind in this worldly existence. My view on death can often be bleaker than the poetry of this song, but in death I think we must be selfless. We must give the last remnants of our lives to those who outlive us. This is part of the cycle of life, a cycle that is reflected in the moon as it rises and sets in the sky.
The end.

Friday, February 6, 2009

in some u-nee-verses [flat blackness]

The last books I read before Alicia died were Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series, which begins with The Golden Compass. A central aspect of people in Lyra’s world [the main character and heroine] is that they have daemons [Lyra’s daemon is named Pantalaimon]. A daemon is the constant companion of his or her corresponding human. They are animal shape-shifters until the transition between childhood and adolescence when they take on their final form- a creature that portrays the truest and deepest nature of a person. Usually a daemon is the opposite sex, of a similar demeanor, fiercely protective, and acts as an amalgamation of intuition and conscience. Humans are bonded so closely with their daemons that there is a limit on the distance that can separate them, lest they both die. The only beings that can separate from their daemons are witches who possess special magic.
When I was reading the series I identified a strong similarity in the intimacy of a human-daemon relationship and a twin relationship. What drew my attention was the act of separation of a human from her daemon. When Pullman described the horror of this separation, a crime forbidden and taboo, I immediately understood. In the first novel, Lyra finds a town haunted by a boy wandering about without his daemon and rescues him, though he soon dies. The appearance of any person without their daemon is as awful as if they were physically damaged beyond recognition. Humans without daemons are considered as frightful as zombies; they are beings without true will, identity, or soul. Later in the book Lyra is put into a machine intended to slice apart her and Pantalaimon’s connection. Though they escape, the panic and torment experienced by each of them made me think, “This is what it must be like to lose a twin." Still, trying to imagine something so terrible usually just leads to flat blackness- impenetrable, mysterious.
Now that Alicia is dead I often try to imagine what is was like before and find myself reaching out into the same flat blackness.