morose morose morose. with a touch of the dramatic. if you don’t have the stomach for either, prolly should stop reading now.
three things have mired in my mind lately. and i am my mother’s daughter. not the best at conversational transitions. tend to blurt things out and easily lose the connection between subjects. i mean, it usually makes sense in my head the relationship between things, but quickly fuzzes out when i try to articulate how i made the jump. maybe it’s just more of a sense or a internal rhyme than an actual linear connection. sure. i’ll go with that.
our …uhm…. smartphones were a very appreciated addition to our roadtrip of the past few months. we could research anything. i mean, sure, finding campsites, hotels, restaurants, the cheapest gas in the area…but also all kinds of more interesting or educational things like the trail of tears, the rust belt, little big horn, and one of the most pressing questions of our trip, “where the hell and why the hell are there alligator/crocodiles in oklahoma?”
and because they were researched and discussed at the moment of wonder, the information really seemed to adhere. which is wonderful. and the goal of learning. bonus.
so we’re driving through south dakota on our way to a koa outside of sioux falls. the folks there were very nice. nevertheless, i do not recommend this koa. but that’s not the point of this writing. we’re driving and cv is in the back with raja and lily, watching ponyo, and gimme shelter comes on the radio and it’s wonderful. really really insane and encompassing. and we had a good signal for the whole song so gil and i turned up the volume and just let it wash over us. and it ends and we’re looking at the big open road and start to wonder who, and i mean who in the world, sang with mick jaggar because man, she was gripping. quickly the answer is found via wikipedia and i’m reading aloud their entry on gimme shelter and merry clayton.
At about 2:59 into the song, Clayton’s voice cracks twice from the strain of her powerful singing; once during the second refrain, on the word “shot” from the last line, and then again during the first line of the third and final refrain, on the word “murder”, after which Jagger can be heard saying “Whoo!” in response to Clayton’s emotional delivery. She suffered a miscarriage upon returning home, apparently due to the strain involved in reaching the highest notes.
it crosses my mind frequently, that piece of information. it makes me …feel something near sadness. a bit of awe. an ache for sure.
raja seemed to be enlivened by our road trip. robust and spry. it seemed like he caught a little cold shortly after we got home and then passed away almost a week ago today. he was so peacefully lying on his side amid all of gil’s paints and paintbrushes when we found him. so eerie and still. it was absolutely him, but so hard to process seeing someone you know as absolutely animate so absolutely inanimate. it shocked me. he looked so large in death. strong. and peaceful. it’s amazing how healthy he looked, maybe because he was completely relaxed. it struck me hard. it crosses my mind frequently, the image of him lying there in the sun.
so the third element that keeps crossing my mind. … i wrote this post yesterday and it really picked up speed. and solidified. i saw the connection between these elements, clear as day. it felt really good. it felt good to write it and good to read it and observe its creation and the clarification became its own entity. but it was quite dark and deep and all of that which this might not be the best venue.
so. so you know. i’ll stop here.
treat me to a sipping shot of corralejo, and we can wax poetic on the whole ball of wax.