Some of you may remember that last year a ma named Nigel Cox, from the UK, sent me a portrait he had painted of a man called John that was done while listening to my recording of “The Heart of Failure” off my first CD, The Garden of Lost Things.”
The painting is beautiful, and at the bottom of this post (along with a link to the Heart of Failure). I said, at the time, that at some point I would sit with “John” and write a poem, something that would arise from my surrounding myself with the sound and image.
And almost a year has passed.
Several weeks ago, I started to have the beginnings of a poem start knocking around my head and my heart. I knew immediately that the title would be “A Voice for the Damned,” but it hasn’t really gotten further than that. I got distracted with the Executioner and all my other things.
Then, about a week ago, for whatever reason, I started to think about that painting – a lot. Not specific thoughts, but like my subconscious was holding it up before my inner eye and pointing at it going “there! there!” But it still wasn’t coming together, except that my attention was drawn back.
In trying to clean up my inboxes I came across a message from Nigel that I had missed in the darkness of winter. John is going to be part of a show, and he described how it would be set up – just the painting, separate from the rest, with the music.
Now, yesterday was an odd day. A good day but an odd one. One of those days in which one feels smacked about the head by fate, destiny and purpose as you get reminders, every which way you turn, of what it is that is needed to be done.
And it all came together in a way, it is time to write about John. It is time to sit and listen to the Heart of Failure, look into John’s eyes and listen to the world as it speaks.
John, by Nigel Cox
c. 2010 Nigel Cox All Rights Reserved.
the Heart of Failure, by Cassandra Tribe
from the CD, the Garden of Lost Things
c. 2002 Cassandra Tribe. All rights reserved.