Clearing out some of my fathers old things and i’ve found some jewellery - all of which is sentimental but this also appears to tell another story - I know nothing about Hallmarks but are they usually this big??
There she sat - in the middle of the stage. Business all around her. Crashing of drum shells and cymbals, the jangle of muted guitar intercepted by the plucking of unmuted bass. People moving back and forth, upstage and down, as leads dance around - plugged and unplugged from one place to the next.
And there she sat - on top of an old decorators stool covered with a black cloth drape. At total peace.
Not disturbed by the deafening sound, nor stressed by pressing deadline. A poet, a real poet. One who can turn her expierences to her thoughts, from her thoughts to words on a page and from her page to a song.
I imagine her mind now, as I watch from my place; surrounded by risk assessments and policy documents as they build on all sides around me, containing and constraining my creativity. I imagine her freedom to explore herself. Admiring both the bravery and sacrifice of such decisions.
She is short in stature and her appearance tells me that today is what could loosely be described as a ‘day off’ - at least one that she knew would be spent away from the judgemental eyes of the public.
Hair tied up in a loose bun, strands escaping in almost all directions and held suspended in the warm glow of Par Can light.
A loose, old woven jumper and jeans - the kind my ex used to keep for decorating, are the order of the day. That was when I loved her the most - my ex I mean. When she thought that she looked at her worst and yet I couldn’t have found her more irresistible - this amazing woman who wanted to play house with me. How could I have been so fortunate? And so it was natural, once my imagination had returned from a short holiday - that I might wonder how I might like to spend time with this woman? Perhaps I would love her? If only for a few passing moments.
She seemed blissfully happy. She had greeted me with the widest of smiles, reminding me of an occasion a decade past, when I would go home to visit my family at Christmas and my younger sisters would be delighted to see me.
Happy now - yes. Happy forever - no. This woman’s struggles had been well documented and she had spoken about them at length; in an attempt, I assume, to put the matter to bed - or - perhaps to reach out, from beyond the page of some glossy magazine and grab the young, sad reader by the shoulders - shake them and lead them to a better, safer place. She wore the scars of her past on her arms, I felt guilty for spotting them when she hugged me hello.
Vocal warm ups now, and the power of her voice is a spectacle. She cry’s each line - summoning something deep within her. Something I both fear and envy in equal measure.
Her pain is so intrinsically linked to her talent, which in turn gives rise to her success.
If her success ever truly makes her happy enough to wash away her pain, it will be short lived and the spotlight that warms this lost, gentle, happy singing girl now - may eventually burn out.
I’m not lecturing and i’m certainly not giving advice - just recounting my story. I’ve suffered with Gout for years but it took me ages to realise what it was as it barely presented as Gout. Awful pain - and could present in almost any joint but most commonly in my ankle and knee. I’d would commonly have back to back flair ups where the pain would just move site in a couple of days. I never had swelling or redness just lack of mobility, incredible sensitivity and pain that I would describe as an 8/9 out of 10!
I quit alcohol completely despite not being a heavy drinker - no effect. Then for something completely unrelated the Doctor put me on Blood Thinners - Tinzaparin injections.
Almost overnight it stopped. I’ve now been Gout free for a year and have even been so brave as to reintroduce the occasional pint back into my lifestyle!
Obviously i’m not recommending anyone seeks this out - just recounting my story. Good luck all!