Angela... Whoa whoa whoa, Angela..... Like motel curtains, we never really met....
Such beautiful words. Am obsessed with Bill Callahan's album Shephard in a sheepskin vest. Poetry, philosophy and art, 3 of my favourite things. This whole album from start to finish just screams (in a husky whisper) to me of what it is to be a human, what it is to live in this contemporary world and have to deal with the blows that life deals you, both practically and emotionally. Life is never simple, no...even when things are going good (and to all intents and purposes, this album talks of a man for whom life has worked out well, the house, the beautiful wife, the kids, the car and art... something which many folk lose as life takes over and is therefore a luxury to maintain). But that doesn't stop the tests coming, in the many different forms they do... This song in particular hits me deep in the stomach. I have a penchant for writing about romantic tragedies myself (some of which I've posted on here) and this...this for me underpins one of the most basic & common romantic tragedies, that I think we all can relate to...the tragedy of not quite being able to make it (a relationship) work cos, gah, a relationship is all about relating and sometimes it's hard for a flower to relate to the storm :-)
Been singing along to this as I walk through the streets and listen to it on repeat for months now and last night felt a sudden urge to dance to it... first time I have, danced to 4 tracks and then stopped, realising my knee was throbbing because, DOH, I hadn't warmed up/stretched... Middle aged melancholy...a little bit like that which Mr Callahan speaks of :-) and yea, looking at my semi naked physique as I dance I see clearly how much & where I've put weight on (post quitting smoking and also from not dancing as much due to dislocating my knee)... Almost disregarded this video out of vanity, thought to myself, if I just film it at a different angle, my extra pounds won't be on show (reason I'm so scantily clad in the middle of winter is that my new hula hoop is smaller & lighter & harder to manoeuvre, keeps slipping off the fabric of my clothes, so less clothes until I have got the hang of it) but no, that would be the opposite of being free and I have no need to feel shame. If my sit ups and dancing for joy rather than performance don't get rid of those extra pounds then they will just have to stay...
But getting back to this album, a must for anyone who like me, struggles sometimes with internal existential debates about my life, where it's going and why but realises that ultimately, life is unfolding around you and those internal queries maybe mean less than action. And action is often as a result of instinct, not musing. First world problems + middle aged melancholy... ♥️
