On a quiet night…
Will post a clearer photo when the magazine this is printed in arrives. I love this photo. I had to caption it with Constantinople Line …erm… lines.
It’s the paper that’s got his attention, right? (And not the burd?)
Today is the official calendar start of spring – but I much prefer to think of it in seasonal terms and don’t really feel any real sense of spring until the equinox on March 20th.
That in mind, I wanted to choose something that conjured up warmth and light and joy and optimism, and maybe a bit of Utopia and in the case of this song, enlightenment. Something to symbolise that, indeed, spring is on the way.
I knew it was a spiritual song. You can hear it and sense it without being told, as it delivers that sense, that feeling of a warm spring day. A warming of the soul.
But I actually hadn’t read the info on Dream Giver about it – or if I had, it was so long ago, none of it ever really sank in.
Having read it last night, I was moved by Jim’s words. Moved by how moved HE was by the song.
I can’t help but feel it was semi-autobiographical what he had written in the email? That perhaps it was he who had the dream of the wedding procession and of the Prince (aka Krishna) and the beautiful coquettish brides. That he was the man left standing in the loft apartment staring at the painting on the kitchen wall.
He has talked about the Bhagavad Gita several times in the past. It has had quite an influence on him over the years.
I enjoyed it too, having read it from him mentioning it again in recent years.
I’ll share the piece Jim had written about Superman v Supersoul below. There are so many days in which I miss him and I miss just…feeling with him, connected to him, part of him. More than just through music and through a “singer and fan” dynamic.
I know I have to stop going on about it! And I know I have to find some kind of closure as it has so obviously come to an end – whatever “this” was. Whatever connection I felt there was. Whatever skewed imagining of “togetherness” I had deludedly conjured up for myself and dreamed for myself. It has obviously faded.
For want of painting myself a dream and walking into it to experience it and live it in my subconscious, I better “get real”.
I miss the romance of the togetherness. Of feeling kindred. Of feeling sometimes I could allow to kid myself that, on the odd occasion, there was a “like mind”. That we were connected beyond the music. And that it wasn’t just me that felt it.
(The end of the first paragraph of Jim’s words … God is a DJ? “This is my church. This is where I heal my hurts.”)
UPDATE: (later the same morning) I mixed up my books! I tried to read Bhagavad Gita but got lost in the rambling preface of the copy I bought – an English translation of the book from German – and didn’t continue to read it. So in actual fact, I was mixing up my Siddhartas (which I have read) with my Bhagavad Gitas (not actually read yet) – and I’m wondering if Jim didn’t do the same in this email? I may just have to have another attempt at reading Bhagavad Gita.
People are finding God in different places. Some stare at the sky. Others walk the desert. A friend of mine recently put forward the notion that God has taken to stalking the floors of discotheques!“
“The scenario in the song: An individual, closing his eyes after staring long and hard at a beautiful painting of a scene from the “Bhagavad Gita” finds that he is transported body and soul into the painted image – which in fact becomes reality all around him. There suspended in time for what feels like a whole night he finds himself drowning in the sights and sounds of a wedding procession which is taking place in the most heavenly blue moonlit garden.“
“All around him the most sensuous music drifts and he listens while watching the screams and laughter of the beautiful young brides who cannot contain themselves as they receive the flirting and teasing attention of an obvious boy prince, who must be no other than Lord Krishna… the sense of joy is palpable as peacocks mesmerize, and it’s there and then our character decides that this can only be the one true paradise…“
“Suddenly it’s gone, where to!, where from? The man is left staring out the window of his loft apartment at the shimmering lights of the cityscape; and the sprawling chaos of the streets below. He vows on the spot to completely change his way of life; and tears well as he shifts his eyes back to the small calendar painting, given to him free last year, on the street by a “devotee” and now hanging on his kitchen wall.“
“Paradise.” – Jim, e-mail, 11th March 1998
Also: Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Sant Hapus
I want to celebrate it being February already. I don’t want to think about there being several more weeks of cold weather to endure!
I want to think about spring and the days getting longer, and sun and long shadows and the ephemeral beauty of cherry blossom fluttering in the air and littering the ground.
Some days I wish the hunter could be the hunted…
Trying to solve a puzzle…
This is the progress made as of 4.45pm today.
…. some things never change.
There’s always hope. Always hope. And beauty. And love.