One of the best concerts I have ever seen 💕😍

 

 

Happy Birthday mom, I could watch you paint every day and be excited about what you are excited to conjure outside yourself. That creating art forces us to move closer to being in touch with the world outside ourselves. In our corner of the universe you are one of the brightest parts of the toughness and bravery that is has taken to live our lives. Still laughing and still curious and still sensitive and still loving and still finding purpose and still finding meaning and believing it all has meaning.

 I didn't know you but you were such huge influence on me in the process of being someone who found art and used their creativity to find a way out of their suffering and pain. Nevermind and In Utero are so great that they don't even just hold up, they have musically transcended beyond the decade they were crafted. All those awful conspiracies that surrounded your death haunting Courtney and all the vultures that wished she was the one who had died instead and even those in your circles who had turned on her as well, I'm glad she has outlived that time period. I hope you can see Frances has survived to be doing well. As the daughter of someone who also lost their father to suicide I hold a lot of space in my heart for her and Courtney. As someone who is a survivor of being intensely suicidal for years I always have a place inside me for you, along with the place where I hold onto your musical gifts and the moral political counsel you bestowed in a much more racist, sexist, homophobic time. It's been thirty years yet every few years since a new group of kids are wearing Nirvana shirts and head banging along to your words as well as those legendary yet forgotten Generation Xers. I think you got some of the Boomers too. Nirvana is still my favorite band. You were just a human not a rock god that you got written up into and despised, though the culture rightfully immortalizes you while now it's good at balancing that you were a person with some frailties, sensitivities, and talent more than the average earthling. 

Everyone still misses you and always will.

Who Are You...Do you cry, do you pray...Are you still leaving nothing but bones in the way?

I used this in my piece for your Sources and Influences class. In the dark with an electric candle light as the tape recording of how I came to be from my father's death poured out with all of us in like a seance trance confessional. People when the light came up for the last slideshow eyes soaked. You said you cried on the inside I wish selfishly I had seen those tears on your face I don't know why because I didn't doubt your sorrow from my revelation. So many things you have now left behind and taken with you out of this world. Leaving my world I will never really get over it and as mortality has been haunting me not just for the past few months from family situations and going back further in the early Covid era. I wished whatever impasse we were at times that we could not get pass the fear of reaching out to the other and feel too close and the fear of that one that lives deep inside me I don't know how to break it. And I know from your life constant deep connections to others and fears you needed a wall also for protection at times. I'm sorry I couldn't dive over and tell you how much you meant even if you would have hated that sentimentally. Our last time together is my consolation along with the years at ICP, some of my best years despite not knowing it at the time. These lyrics don't really have anything to do with my feelings or how I absorb you but they are always attached because of your influence, and despite my deep insecurities you let me not fear my bones, I hope in the end you did not fear your own.

Time's not your friend

Do you cry, do you pray, do you wish them away?

Are you still leaving nothing but bones in the way?

Did you bury the carnival, with the lions and all?

Excuse me while I sharpen my nails

And just who are you, who are you this time?

You look rather tired, are you pretending to love?

Well, I hear that it pays well

How do your pistol and your Bible and your sleeping pills go?

Are you still jumping out of windows in expensive clothes?

Well, I fell in love with your sailor's mouth and your wounded eyes

You better get down on the floor, don't you know this is war?

Tell me, who are you this time?

Tell me, who are you this time?

 

Miss Pumpkin inquiring with mom "Why Gramsci?"

 

 

 

 

 

R.I.P Tim, remember when we picked this song out for the slideshow? I remember that self portrait you took the surprise double exposure of the 4th of July fireworks burst I hope you kept it. I'm glad you confided in me and that you felt good to open up and I hope that helped you or even if you forgot it still lived somewhere inside that made you feel ok. I found the photos I took at your showing at Niagara bar and emailed them to your sister. A lot of people who knew you better and longer than I did are in a lot of pain right now because they loved you so much. I wrote out to your sister that love is truly stronger than grief and I believe that all those people's moments with you the love and joy they can feel and remember is what will carry get them through this tragedy. Love is the only thing that can hold a higher potency than pain and you had so much to give and share and them to you as well. Though you could feel and understood darkness and depth you contained jubilation, curiosity, love, creativity, integrity, sincerity, devotion, humor oscillating between light and dark, inquisitiveness, dedication, and explorative and humanistic, a full and fleshed good person. Your life looked so beautiful and bountiful in the photos and you looked like finally found something had settled. I'm sorry you were not finished and I'm sorry we hadn't spoken in so long. Life is tragedy but you made some beauty in it. We'll catch up in the next life.

From having seen a new favorite film George Orwell's The Trial with the enigmatic leading madman performance by Anthony Perkins at The Film Forum.