Yesterday, I started reading "Stories I Might Regret Telling You," a memoir by Martha Wainwright. Like I often do when reading autobiographies, I paused to listen to an album or look up a painting, a recipe, or whatever the author references. After reading how much it inspired Martha Wainwright, I put on Leonard Cohen's album "I'm Your Man." One thing led to another, and I found myself listening to covers, eventually coming across Martha's rendition of "Tower of Song," a track I'm not very familiar with but it got into my head. I pulled out the guitar. My mom loved Cohen dearly, and this morning, I felt especially close to her so I decided to record the song, albeit roughly. Even when I messed up the guitar part, especially at the end, I just turned it off and left the vocals bare. I don't feel the need to perfect it or tinker with the mixing to make it flawless. It's raw and kind of messy, but I like it just the way it is—for now. These days, finishing anything takes a lot out of me, so I'm calling this a win for today.
The last few days have been particularly tough. My sister, brother, and I went through all of my mom and dad's clothing and personal belongings for the first time since they left this world. I drove to the donation centre, sobbing with 15 bags filled with clothing, records, picture frames, VHS tapes, cassette tapes, and old electronics. It was painful, but I got through it. Ok, I’m a gonna post this before I don’t. Oh and I’m nearing the end of this book:
“Take Back the Magic: Conversations with the Unseen World”by Perdita Finn.
And now I’m off for a walk.
Tower Of Song