Monday, August 27, 2007
Something I No Longer Remember
This weekend I saw a picture of Amy Winehouse, the new British Janis Joplin, bleeding through her toes into her lovely pink ballet slippers, a result of shooting heroin through the spaces between them. This is the kind of gruesome juxtaposition that stays with one for a very long time, the innocent and damaged, an epic trainwreck so very young. I have her cd, of course, a birthday present from my ex-husband who says I remind him of her. It's not my voice which is one of the worst, both in speaking and singing. And the unfortunate part is that I know words to almost every song I hear which brings up a cosmic joke -- why do all the people with terrible voices have excellent memories for song lyrics? I can't help but be entranced by Amy -- her huge beehive hair, her tiny little body, that bad British orthodontia. She cuts and starves herself by her own admission and sings like she came straight out of Motown. What's not to love about such reckless self-destruction and beauty all in one package?
Of course, you can't live very long in this fashion. You have to slow down the freefall. I can remember a lot about being married because I was such a mess. I wasn't shooting heroin or singing about being a wicked girl, but I was living in a state of constant worry and fear, shell shocked by the bad turns that my life had taken, those turns finally catching up with me. I couldn't see my way out of my troubled mind, that trap stronger than any prison door. I, like Amy, loved pink ballet shoes and had a picture of them on my wall with an inspirational saying, something I no longer remember. But the shoes were pristine, never worn, like my own pair that stayed in the back of the closet, waiting for the right time to debut which never came because what I figured out is that I'm a lot more comfortable in high heels, even if I trip and fall, because I can always blame the shoes and not my own wobbly walk or the fact that I'm not watching where I'm going.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Good and bad - this is the story of my life." Martha Reeves
Drinking magazine suggestion: Ms. Magazine
Benedictions and Maledictions