Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
REM Concert, July 16th 1999
I checked at Eamon Doran's to see if my purse had been found at around 5:00 pm (it had been stolen there the night before).
It had been turned in, with Everything in it. I asked the female manager, and she responded, "Did it have an REM ticket in it?"
Euphoric relief! Someone says with that sort of luck, you should go out and buy a lottery ticket tomorrow. They were happy at my happiness. The cards were all cancelled, but there were all there. So was my Passport. Only the money, 10 or 15 punts, was taken. Given I suspect it may have been Asha who stole it, I don't know whether to thank God for grace or curse the world's malicious ambivalence.
The 24 hours proved such a low to high it was almost like a redemptive cycle, because now I am off to REM. I go from a total loss of identity and abandonment, to a complete sense of identity and personal fulfillment, in less than 10 hours. What is to be garnered from that?
A half hour's walk later and I'm emotionally spent, passive, carrying almost nothing (except my recovered four proofs), no possibility of drug intake (too bad), just see it for what it is, no strings, no associations, just totally grateful to even be there at all.
The seating turned out to be optimal viewing, just excellent in terms of the screens, perfect angle for the stage. The only problem was that the sun was setting directly overhead of the stage. I hooded myself with my coat, but by REM the sky had misted sufficiently to produce a rising bank of cloud behind which it set. Perfect. It was also creating massive prism difractions, a splotch of rainbow colour on one side of the mist. I praised God for the amazing sky. Then REM was on with a bang, starting with "Lotus". In the last week I have been backing off them, reassessing, telling myself I assumed too much, but here, now, "Lotus" is so plainly a redemptive song and I exhult in the awareness of state. Redemption via a human. Then, "What's the Frequency Kenneth?", then "Wake-up Bomb".
"I had to teach the world to sing by the age of 21"
-And the self-acknowledgement of conviction, abandonment of the world. After, soon after, was "Suspicion". Imagination, come alive. Near the ending as the song sails away, I closed my eyes, sailed with it, sent out an embrace. The song concluded and Stipe starts anew: "Jesus, let me know my special place", -a twice made appeal. That may not have been exact but its sentiment was for Christ to endorse and place him, let him find himself. As this my eyes brightened with tears, at the acknowledgment of Jesus in that appeal, that Stipe has arrived here at long last, not knowing if he would. I cried for joy as he began the song "Test-Leper" knowing fully why he terms himself thus, why the appeal is made. I embrace him anyway, for he has come, self-determinant. I have never judged him, and I am not responsible. I put out the embrace. (I made him a place, didn't I? Yet I didn't define that he has chosen.)
I wish I could remember every song, so that I could fully reiterate the process and what happens. The songs do mean more now, apply fully to the moment, and convey how for me, some were meant for the Now, this moment. "Don't Fall On Me" was one of the commencing songs. They got into the back catalogue, even coverage, which was nice. "Losing My Religion", everyone sang. I feel like that now because I am fraught with doubt that this is true. "Everybody Hurts" was total released for me, that fit what was happening this day with such aptitude that I told myself, hold onto this moment and remember. For I had just gone through that devastation, that abandonment where I was lost and separate, hopeless and in pain, only to be brought back and relieved by this total exoneration of my state, which trivializes my lack of faith and self-confidence, and shows me how insignificant it is in the face of what exists.
I utilized this moment, took it to its furthes personal applicaiton, telling myself it doesn't matter what happens to you in this life, if you remain isolated, alone for all of it, get yourself pregnant, remain in servitude, what is has intrinsic value, what you are and have given is valid and must be sustained, and no matter when you hit darkness, remember this, remember not to let go; it is true loss in the face of existence. Remeber what comfort there is, that these would, and have comforted you, in the best possible measure, to the best of their abilities, they have comforted you Now, (when your existence is on a thread, when you have come through despair), and if they had any other way they would comfort you always, but they have givein you this moment Now, and remains to you to never forget, and let this sustain you.
I Will. I will.
It was "Electrolite" that followed, that generated reciprocal feedback through the audience as a whole. "This on goes out to the one I love" took on new significane in this moment of rebirth, departure. Interesting song about "father". I know what my father is, the strength to judge, -I would never have the strength to do (famous lasts words). Familial roles representing a spiritual body.
I wish I could remember the key songs. They did "Walk Unafraid"; it was the first time I liked "Daysleeper". "Man on the Moon", of course. "The Apologist". And then they played a new one (probably/could it have been "The Great Beyond"?) As I caught it I realized what affirmation it was, talking about accomplishing the struggle for growth, and I was so happy to know that I have succeeded, accomplished these things, determined and fulfilled my own existence, and I am filled with great joy. This was succeeded by "I have found a way to make you smile". True, and in the face of my odds, no small accomplishment. So I said, "I love you too" (almost as much as I love U2, lol) , in a mental rejoinder to his previous, "I love U2."
"I hope that you apply this emptiness, this peacefulness..."
I profoundly regret that I am failing to remember what the concluding songs were, for this transition in me was of such great importance. What I realized was that I am dealing with not just one, but two paradoxical articles of faith, and have only acted on one of them. The second was recognized in the acceptance of my life generated by "Everybody Hurts". I came here on the faith that the mutual injunction, and thereby this union, exists (it is an ultimate act of faith), but I had that contingent on receiveing affirmation, being given a path, being given to love, and the people that I love. (I would accept nothing less.) Based on the recent transitions in my thinking, I here concluded that the limbo the question of the injunction puts me in leaves me free to define my own life until it is resolved. My father can make judgements, his impact on my life can in fact be nil; if no affirmation takes place, you will not be shunted into assuming anything in terms of giving it all up or accepting its non-existence. "Uncertainly can be a guiding light" finally fulfills itself.
You are a free woman. What do you want from our life? Of course, the first thing I want, is what I came here for, but that may never happen, it may be not supposed to happen, and here I arrived at full acceptance that if it does not meet, that simply makes me a free woman, to define my own life as I choose, and I became this. The question will no longer make me suicidal. I will be free to live and love as I choose. What I realized was that this acceptance too was a further embrace of faith, for accepting that I may never receive physical affirmation face to face, is the fullest extent of faith, in this case, to exist in the assumption that it does, with no tangible or direct response ever, no payback as it were. I will never recieve this love in a direct, personal of physical sense. It remains, however, to exist in the faith that it does exist. What I realized then was that the act of assuming this faith in itself was what would make its existence real. It is for me to simply assume it. To do so is to make this union exist, for the place where this can be seen, and must be affirmed, is in my own mind. To which I declared, It Is. It is.
So I profoundly regret the little vignette I sent to Bono, which ways I could never really abide the question, because I can and did. I could go home now with no response whatsoever, and begin a new life. This is enough.
It was with this conclusion that the band left the stage, and for the encore, Stipe returned alone with an acoustic guitar, and what he sang was (of course),
Who cast the final stone,
Who threw the crushing blow
Someone has to take the fall
Why not me?
Had consequence chose differently
Had fate its ugly head,
My actions make me beautiful
and dignify the flesh
Me.
I am free.
Free.
I am singing this with him, for this was my achievement, and here, now, I am free. That this followed was fulfillment in itself. That this was followed by "Crush with Eyeliner" sent me to the stars with joy. I am still inventing myself. I just pulled (or perhaps affirmed) the big one. I love being ahead of the ball, that's what makes it. So the song means what it says, for the moment was already accomplished.
In other words the concert just soared. (Who needs drugs?!) I soared with it. I would be happy and fulfilled on this trip just by having been here, attaining this form of resolution. (Bit expensive, what!?)
I was so very, very happy to be here, having lived as I have, what is accomplished in my own existence. I know how centrist that sounds, but the joy, to me, is mutual affiramtion and how it lives through other people, infecting them with love and restoration. That is the joy.
The woman I was sitting beside was lovely and we both appraoched it like exuberant teens, up and dancing at any chance. It turned out she was from Vancouver.
Walking out of the stadium a woman from her yard declared, "Can anyone see the light in the sky? What is it?" I didn't know what she was referring to until I saw the sickle moon's unearthly glow enveloped in the mists. It really was almost too ethereal to identify. The whole orb had achieved a glow, even though itw as a new moon. It was like the vision dream I had encountering Jane Siberry's "Maria".
Years ago I said that concerts were unique in what was expressed in the songs could achieve direct and active fulfillment in the Now, by being performed in the live setting. They may even be ultimately fulfilled in that Now, attain their highest meaning. It's still true. Some songs were never better applied than in those moments. To say so, to assume that, is ludicrous, but for me it is true, and in me it is true.
Nearly home and I'm accosted by a Parisian who wants to know where Temple Bar is, so I start walking him there and he asks me if I'd like to go for a drink. We walk all over, not successful in finding a bar (that's not crowded, closed, or has cover charge), so we chat and chat, only that's mainly me and I'm telling him all sorts of episodes about my life, which really fasinated him; (it turned out he was a script writer). In the end we went to Zanzibar, as since I am going to be working there I want to see what it is like on weekends. It's horrendously crowded. It loses all sense of exoticness to its standard fare lousy dance music (it's the same as The Jet Lounge (where I was a silhouette dance); it's scary that this shite is common internaional culture, the same anywhere); it's a zoo. I will not like this at all. Fabien and I (that's his name, introductions came very late), actually managed to find a secluded corner behind a palm tree on the topmost floor, where we just continued talking. He was the same age, 28. He kept asking for episodes of my life. Then all this stopped, we kissed, and kept doing it. There was something tentative to his movements (suggested inesexperience perhaps), but it was highly intimate even for a bar. It was not pushy, tongue down your throat type of feel, even though that was going on. It was very tender and content with just touching and being touched. For his tenderness I was greatful to be with him.
We walked some more and I took him to the flat with an offer of juice (we'd spent the whole time looking for a place to drink, and all he wanted was juice). We ate too; I hadn't had dinner yet. I have never been accosted sexually from behind while cooking rice before. Emily and Ciara's return home defused events, Fabien took his leave, but not without stolen kisses and my phone number. I can bet you he won't call. He's returning to Paris soon, and I think he'll conclude I am (immigraiton scenarios included) overwhelming for him, no matter how interesting it all is.
It had been turned in, with Everything in it. I asked the female manager, and she responded, "Did it have an REM ticket in it?"
Euphoric relief! Someone says with that sort of luck, you should go out and buy a lottery ticket tomorrow. They were happy at my happiness. The cards were all cancelled, but there were all there. So was my Passport. Only the money, 10 or 15 punts, was taken. Given I suspect it may have been Asha who stole it, I don't know whether to thank God for grace or curse the world's malicious ambivalence.
The 24 hours proved such a low to high it was almost like a redemptive cycle, because now I am off to REM. I go from a total loss of identity and abandonment, to a complete sense of identity and personal fulfillment, in less than 10 hours. What is to be garnered from that?
A half hour's walk later and I'm emotionally spent, passive, carrying almost nothing (except my recovered four proofs), no possibility of drug intake (too bad), just see it for what it is, no strings, no associations, just totally grateful to even be there at all.
The seating turned out to be optimal viewing, just excellent in terms of the screens, perfect angle for the stage. The only problem was that the sun was setting directly overhead of the stage. I hooded myself with my coat, but by REM the sky had misted sufficiently to produce a rising bank of cloud behind which it set. Perfect. It was also creating massive prism difractions, a splotch of rainbow colour on one side of the mist. I praised God for the amazing sky. Then REM was on with a bang, starting with "Lotus". In the last week I have been backing off them, reassessing, telling myself I assumed too much, but here, now, "Lotus" is so plainly a redemptive song and I exhult in the awareness of state. Redemption via a human. Then, "What's the Frequency Kenneth?", then "Wake-up Bomb".
"I had to teach the world to sing by the age of 21"
-And the self-acknowledgement of conviction, abandonment of the world. After, soon after, was "Suspicion". Imagination, come alive. Near the ending as the song sails away, I closed my eyes, sailed with it, sent out an embrace. The song concluded and Stipe starts anew: "Jesus, let me know my special place", -a twice made appeal. That may not have been exact but its sentiment was for Christ to endorse and place him, let him find himself. As this my eyes brightened with tears, at the acknowledgment of Jesus in that appeal, that Stipe has arrived here at long last, not knowing if he would. I cried for joy as he began the song "Test-Leper" knowing fully why he terms himself thus, why the appeal is made. I embrace him anyway, for he has come, self-determinant. I have never judged him, and I am not responsible. I put out the embrace. (I made him a place, didn't I? Yet I didn't define that he has chosen.)
I wish I could remember every song, so that I could fully reiterate the process and what happens. The songs do mean more now, apply fully to the moment, and convey how for me, some were meant for the Now, this moment. "Don't Fall On Me" was one of the commencing songs. They got into the back catalogue, even coverage, which was nice. "Losing My Religion", everyone sang. I feel like that now because I am fraught with doubt that this is true. "Everybody Hurts" was total released for me, that fit what was happening this day with such aptitude that I told myself, hold onto this moment and remember. For I had just gone through that devastation, that abandonment where I was lost and separate, hopeless and in pain, only to be brought back and relieved by this total exoneration of my state, which trivializes my lack of faith and self-confidence, and shows me how insignificant it is in the face of what exists.
I utilized this moment, took it to its furthes personal applicaiton, telling myself it doesn't matter what happens to you in this life, if you remain isolated, alone for all of it, get yourself pregnant, remain in servitude, what is has intrinsic value, what you are and have given is valid and must be sustained, and no matter when you hit darkness, remember this, remember not to let go; it is true loss in the face of existence. Remeber what comfort there is, that these would, and have comforted you, in the best possible measure, to the best of their abilities, they have comforted you Now, (when your existence is on a thread, when you have come through despair), and if they had any other way they would comfort you always, but they have givein you this moment Now, and remains to you to never forget, and let this sustain you.
I Will. I will.
It was "Electrolite" that followed, that generated reciprocal feedback through the audience as a whole. "This on goes out to the one I love" took on new significane in this moment of rebirth, departure. Interesting song about "father". I know what my father is, the strength to judge, -I would never have the strength to do (famous lasts words). Familial roles representing a spiritual body.
I wish I could remember the key songs. They did "Walk Unafraid"; it was the first time I liked "Daysleeper". "Man on the Moon", of course. "The Apologist". And then they played a new one (probably/could it have been "The Great Beyond"?) As I caught it I realized what affirmation it was, talking about accomplishing the struggle for growth, and I was so happy to know that I have succeeded, accomplished these things, determined and fulfilled my own existence, and I am filled with great joy. This was succeeded by "I have found a way to make you smile". True, and in the face of my odds, no small accomplishment. So I said, "I love you too" (almost as much as I love U2, lol) , in a mental rejoinder to his previous, "I love U2."
"I hope that you apply this emptiness, this peacefulness..."
I profoundly regret that I am failing to remember what the concluding songs were, for this transition in me was of such great importance. What I realized was that I am dealing with not just one, but two paradoxical articles of faith, and have only acted on one of them. The second was recognized in the acceptance of my life generated by "Everybody Hurts". I came here on the faith that the mutual injunction, and thereby this union, exists (it is an ultimate act of faith), but I had that contingent on receiveing affirmation, being given a path, being given to love, and the people that I love. (I would accept nothing less.) Based on the recent transitions in my thinking, I here concluded that the limbo the question of the injunction puts me in leaves me free to define my own life until it is resolved. My father can make judgements, his impact on my life can in fact be nil; if no affirmation takes place, you will not be shunted into assuming anything in terms of giving it all up or accepting its non-existence. "Uncertainly can be a guiding light" finally fulfills itself.
You are a free woman. What do you want from our life? Of course, the first thing I want, is what I came here for, but that may never happen, it may be not supposed to happen, and here I arrived at full acceptance that if it does not meet, that simply makes me a free woman, to define my own life as I choose, and I became this. The question will no longer make me suicidal. I will be free to live and love as I choose. What I realized was that this acceptance too was a further embrace of faith, for accepting that I may never receive physical affirmation face to face, is the fullest extent of faith, in this case, to exist in the assumption that it does, with no tangible or direct response ever, no payback as it were. I will never recieve this love in a direct, personal of physical sense. It remains, however, to exist in the faith that it does exist. What I realized then was that the act of assuming this faith in itself was what would make its existence real. It is for me to simply assume it. To do so is to make this union exist, for the place where this can be seen, and must be affirmed, is in my own mind. To which I declared, It Is. It is.
So I profoundly regret the little vignette I sent to Bono, which ways I could never really abide the question, because I can and did. I could go home now with no response whatsoever, and begin a new life. This is enough.
It was with this conclusion that the band left the stage, and for the encore, Stipe returned alone with an acoustic guitar, and what he sang was (of course),
Who cast the final stone,
Who threw the crushing blow
Someone has to take the fall
Why not me?
Had consequence chose differently
Had fate its ugly head,
My actions make me beautiful
and dignify the flesh
Me.
I am free.
Free.
I am singing this with him, for this was my achievement, and here, now, I am free. That this followed was fulfillment in itself. That this was followed by "Crush with Eyeliner" sent me to the stars with joy. I am still inventing myself. I just pulled (or perhaps affirmed) the big one. I love being ahead of the ball, that's what makes it. So the song means what it says, for the moment was already accomplished.
In other words the concert just soared. (Who needs drugs?!) I soared with it. I would be happy and fulfilled on this trip just by having been here, attaining this form of resolution. (Bit expensive, what!?)
I was so very, very happy to be here, having lived as I have, what is accomplished in my own existence. I know how centrist that sounds, but the joy, to me, is mutual affiramtion and how it lives through other people, infecting them with love and restoration. That is the joy.
The woman I was sitting beside was lovely and we both appraoched it like exuberant teens, up and dancing at any chance. It turned out she was from Vancouver.
Walking out of the stadium a woman from her yard declared, "Can anyone see the light in the sky? What is it?" I didn't know what she was referring to until I saw the sickle moon's unearthly glow enveloped in the mists. It really was almost too ethereal to identify. The whole orb had achieved a glow, even though itw as a new moon. It was like the vision dream I had encountering Jane Siberry's "Maria".
Years ago I said that concerts were unique in what was expressed in the songs could achieve direct and active fulfillment in the Now, by being performed in the live setting. They may even be ultimately fulfilled in that Now, attain their highest meaning. It's still true. Some songs were never better applied than in those moments. To say so, to assume that, is ludicrous, but for me it is true, and in me it is true.
Nearly home and I'm accosted by a Parisian who wants to know where Temple Bar is, so I start walking him there and he asks me if I'd like to go for a drink. We walk all over, not successful in finding a bar (that's not crowded, closed, or has cover charge), so we chat and chat, only that's mainly me and I'm telling him all sorts of episodes about my life, which really fasinated him; (it turned out he was a script writer). In the end we went to Zanzibar, as since I am going to be working there I want to see what it is like on weekends. It's horrendously crowded. It loses all sense of exoticness to its standard fare lousy dance music (it's the same as The Jet Lounge (where I was a silhouette dance); it's scary that this shite is common internaional culture, the same anywhere); it's a zoo. I will not like this at all. Fabien and I (that's his name, introductions came very late), actually managed to find a secluded corner behind a palm tree on the topmost floor, where we just continued talking. He was the same age, 28. He kept asking for episodes of my life. Then all this stopped, we kissed, and kept doing it. There was something tentative to his movements (suggested inesexperience perhaps), but it was highly intimate even for a bar. It was not pushy, tongue down your throat type of feel, even though that was going on. It was very tender and content with just touching and being touched. For his tenderness I was greatful to be with him.
We walked some more and I took him to the flat with an offer of juice (we'd spent the whole time looking for a place to drink, and all he wanted was juice). We ate too; I hadn't had dinner yet. I have never been accosted sexually from behind while cooking rice before. Emily and Ciara's return home defused events, Fabien took his leave, but not without stolen kisses and my phone number. I can bet you he won't call. He's returning to Paris soon, and I think he'll conclude I am (immigraiton scenarios included) overwhelming for him, no matter how interesting it all is.
The Mad Hatter's Box, June issue of Hot Press, 1999
This is a transcript of excerpts from ‘The Mad Hatter’s Box’ in the June issue of HotPress. It involves a formulaic list of questions that are given to each month’s selected interviewee. This was Mike Moloney, a 2FM presenter. It had me keeling over with laughter by the end of it so I’m hoping for a similar desired effect, though that may be slim.
Favorite saying: ‘Absolutely.’
Favorite record? ‘Lullaby for a Lonely Child’ 1969
Favorite Book? ‘Weaveworld by Clive Barker’
Favorite Film? ‘Mary Poppins (Go on, try it when your down, it works)’ –Laugh ins were a family phase once. One time the film/Uncle Albert was involved, seeing as it was a space we’d already hit multiple times.
Favorite musician? ‘Impossible to pick.’
Biggest thrill? ‘The birth of my son.’
You can guess his favourite form of relaxation.
Biggest disappointment? ‘At 40 still not finding a real point to it all.’
Your concept of heaven? ‘To find out there actually is one.’
Greatest ambition? ‘To be at my own wake.’
Period of history you’d most liked to have lived in and why? ‘30-33 AD – just to see if all that gospel stuff is true.’
If you were told that the world was ending tomorrow morning how would you react/what would you do? ‘Have the wildest 24 hours of my life.’
Your nominee for the world’s best dressed person? ‘The Divine Miss C – Naked.’
Favorite term of abuse? ‘But it has to be your fault.’
Biggest fear? ‘Crossing to the other side and finding nothing there.’
Humanity’s most useful invention? ‘Anything that can record music.’
What would be your dying words? ‘At last – a few answers . . . I hope.’
Favorite saying: ‘Absolutely.’
Favorite record? ‘Lullaby for a Lonely Child’ 1969
Favorite Book? ‘Weaveworld by Clive Barker’
Favorite Film? ‘Mary Poppins (Go on, try it when your down, it works)’ –Laugh ins were a family phase once. One time the film/Uncle Albert was involved, seeing as it was a space we’d already hit multiple times.
Favorite musician? ‘Impossible to pick.’
Biggest thrill? ‘The birth of my son.’
You can guess his favourite form of relaxation.
Biggest disappointment? ‘At 40 still not finding a real point to it all.’
Your concept of heaven? ‘To find out there actually is one.’
Greatest ambition? ‘To be at my own wake.’
Period of history you’d most liked to have lived in and why? ‘30-33 AD – just to see if all that gospel stuff is true.’
If you were told that the world was ending tomorrow morning how would you react/what would you do? ‘Have the wildest 24 hours of my life.’
Your nominee for the world’s best dressed person? ‘The Divine Miss C – Naked.’
Favorite term of abuse? ‘But it has to be your fault.’
Biggest fear? ‘Crossing to the other side and finding nothing there.’
Humanity’s most useful invention? ‘Anything that can record music.’
What would be your dying words? ‘At last – a few answers . . . I hope.’
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