It is sometimes hard for me to not be Overwhelmed ....
Overwhelmed by a kaleidoscope of sensations not entirely of this world, by unseen energies and colors that collide with my heart and seep into every particle of my being.
On April 19th, I was lucky enough to catch Mumford & Son in Omaha.
A rollicking, wild high-energy time was had by all: straight-up-standing-up-all-the-fucking-time-dancing ... words to every song known and chanted by this mostly hipster audience numbering 18,000+
Epic.
And i thought, what GODS are these?
No mere mortals harbor our souls & lift voices in unison so ... only gods can bring us to our feet to dance & sing with such full abandon and soul. Only Gods ,,,
And then Prince died.
Two days later at the age of 57.
Prince Rogers Nelson was merely 4 days younger than me, born in my father's birthplace of Minnesota. Facts & stats.
I'm not telling you anything you don't already know by now, even if you were not a fan prior to his death, we all have now been vaccinated with our purple-paisley serum.
Prince has become our international object of mourning--Purple has been declared his for all time, (though i do believe it is more about the paisley)
Everyone has something to say, something to write and i love listening to the voices of my writer & non-writer friends lament and expostulate. However, do not lay claim to his music, his artistic talent for your own generation -- Oh, No, no no! He belongs to no one .... and everyone.
No one and Everyone.
Prince was a God of genuine transformation--reaching into our bedrooms nearly 30 years ago--reaching deep, deep into the caverns of our true selves and waking us to that true self - nudging open our sexuality, waking us to our yearnings. He raised high the box of crayons and spilled them upon the floor--every color had a note, a tone, a rift and crescendo ... arranged and gathered up in patterns that lit our fierce souls on fire and quieted our discontent. In his lyrics, in his unexpected melodies;
we heard the cry of sirens ancient and forgotten, we heard and felt moved beyond mere notes on a page ,,, it was cursive to our kindergarten scribble ... and he called forth a response from our true selves with truth-creations of our own; words, music, fashion, feeling ... being.
And sometimes,
we just danced.
I felt, as a white girl from the plains of Nebraska, as if Prince were my very own secret discovery ...
No one else ventured here ,,,, no one knew what i knew ,,,,
I was singular in my passion and moved beyond the interests of my peers to hear things differently ... to look past the expected and step into the purple rain.
This. Factually untrue, but i believed it so.
The pursuits of my youth were cupped within his songs; each dance, each fuck, each romantic entanglement, each loss .... doves cried.
I have my list of favorites from James Taylor, The Beatles to Springsteen ... Prince didn't ever make that cut, that list, because he was something not-of-the-rest, he stood apart -- a God.
Someone who would always be there to outline the year, the decade, the emotion.
He was always supposed to be there; heralding in a new age, a new twist of perspective and a new rising of that thing-that-happened-in-ones-chest-when-listening-to-a-new-Prince-song-for-the-first time ,,,, that Rising.
Prince Rogers Nelson died on April 21st 2016.
I cry every day in some small, quiet way for his passing--this passing -- this sadness that so Overwhelms. But with that sorrow has come a vow -- to find and polish that genuine true-self that so long ago danced alone in her bedroom to Little Red Corvette.
Danced alone, and knew how to live and how to shine unapologetically.
Go forth and Overwhelm you Crazy Human!!
Time is short, Music lies everywhere ,,,
Go forth be Overwhelmed every-every single day by all you can gather to your soul ,,,,,
Be Overwhelmed with this Thing called Life.
Go.
Let's Get Crazy.
Overwhelmed by a kaleidoscope of sensations not entirely of this world, by unseen energies and colors that collide with my heart and seep into every particle of my being.
On April 19th, I was lucky enough to catch Mumford & Son in Omaha.
A rollicking, wild high-energy time was had by all: straight-up-standing-up-all-the-fucking-time-dancing ... words to every song known and chanted by this mostly hipster audience numbering 18,000+
Epic.
And i thought, what GODS are these?
No mere mortals harbor our souls & lift voices in unison so ... only gods can bring us to our feet to dance & sing with such full abandon and soul. Only Gods ,,,
And then Prince died.
Two days later at the age of 57.
Prince Rogers Nelson was merely 4 days younger than me, born in my father's birthplace of Minnesota. Facts & stats.
I'm not telling you anything you don't already know by now, even if you were not a fan prior to his death, we all have now been vaccinated with our purple-paisley serum.
Prince has become our international object of mourning--Purple has been declared his for all time, (though i do believe it is more about the paisley)
Everyone has something to say, something to write and i love listening to the voices of my writer & non-writer friends lament and expostulate. However, do not lay claim to his music, his artistic talent for your own generation -- Oh, No, no no! He belongs to no one .... and everyone.
No one and Everyone.
Prince was a God of genuine transformation--reaching into our bedrooms nearly 30 years ago--reaching deep, deep into the caverns of our true selves and waking us to that true self - nudging open our sexuality, waking us to our yearnings. He raised high the box of crayons and spilled them upon the floor--every color had a note, a tone, a rift and crescendo ... arranged and gathered up in patterns that lit our fierce souls on fire and quieted our discontent. In his lyrics, in his unexpected melodies;
we heard the cry of sirens ancient and forgotten, we heard and felt moved beyond mere notes on a page ,,, it was cursive to our kindergarten scribble ... and he called forth a response from our true selves with truth-creations of our own; words, music, fashion, feeling ... being.
And sometimes,
we just danced.
I felt, as a white girl from the plains of Nebraska, as if Prince were my very own secret discovery ...
No one else ventured here ,,,, no one knew what i knew ,,,,
I was singular in my passion and moved beyond the interests of my peers to hear things differently ... to look past the expected and step into the purple rain.
This. Factually untrue, but i believed it so.
The pursuits of my youth were cupped within his songs; each dance, each fuck, each romantic entanglement, each loss .... doves cried.
I have my list of favorites from James Taylor, The Beatles to Springsteen ... Prince didn't ever make that cut, that list, because he was something not-of-the-rest, he stood apart -- a God.
Someone who would always be there to outline the year, the decade, the emotion.
He was always supposed to be there; heralding in a new age, a new twist of perspective and a new rising of that thing-that-happened-in-ones-chest-when-listening-to-a-new-Prince-song-for-the-first time ,,,, that Rising.
Prince Rogers Nelson died on April 21st 2016.
I cry every day in some small, quiet way for his passing--this passing -- this sadness that so Overwhelms. But with that sorrow has come a vow -- to find and polish that genuine true-self that so long ago danced alone in her bedroom to Little Red Corvette.
Danced alone, and knew how to live and how to shine unapologetically.
Go forth and Overwhelm you Crazy Human!!
Time is short, Music lies everywhere ,,,
Go forth be Overwhelmed every-every single day by all you can gather to your soul ,,,,,
Be Overwhelmed with this Thing called Life.
Go.
Let's Get Crazy.
