The stars are close and dear and l have joined the brotherhood of the worlds. And everythings holy -everything, even me.
-john steinbeck (grapes of wrath)
Huey died two weeks ago... I've written about huey before - here... My friend mike was at huey's bedside when he died, he listened to him breath and not breath he saw his breaths grow short and disappear, he saw his pulse slow and stop. Mike was there when he died and he gave huey love to take with him. There is beauty in this...
In uncertainty l am certain that underneath their topmost layers of fraility men want to be good and want to be loved. Indeed most of their vices are attempted short cuts to love, When a man comes to die, no matter what his talents and influence and genuis, if he dies unloved his life must be a failure to him and his dying a cold horror. It seems to me that if you or l must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try to live that our death brings no pleasure to the world.
I let the dog out But he didn't come back Stood on the corner until My feet got wet -tomwaits
This is Huey. I've known him since 1993, use to chop his firewood back then. and sometimes he would get me to fix something at Muriels. Muriel is his girlfriend and he calls her "girl". Huey has the most patience l have ever seen, Muriel doesn't. I remember driving them both to Calgary one year. Took us all day and all night and Muriel got very tired.
I have done three paintings of huey. He is a beautiful man.
and he gave me a ring that was worn by his mother and he takes me out dancin every saturday night. -tomwaits
"My head is spinning round, my heart is in my shoes, yeah I went and set the Thames on fire, oh, now l must come back down She's laughing in her sleeve boys, I can feel it in my bones Oh, but anywhere l'm gonna lay my head, l'm gonna call my home" -tomwaits
"In life, change and forgetfulness may give the impression
that relationships are temporary and conditioned by the events of time, but to the soul, remembrance and eternal connectedness are more important."
-thomas moore
"The family and the family beyond family" The family into which we were born leaves an indelible claim upon us. The gravity of kinship carries and inevitable weight. Asking the question, who are my brothers and sisters? opens up the possibility of a family beyond the genealogical family. A spiritual family, a universal family. The mystical unity of humankind."
Those words above written by my beautiful friend Ron Atkinson "I never saw the morning 'til l stayed up all night I never saw the sunshine 'til you turned out the light I never saw my hometown until l stayed away too long I never heard the melody, until l needed a song" -tom waits
I remember my first friends, or rather that feeling of friendship. That warmth and excitement of wanting to see someone. Grade four, Port McNeil and we lived in a trailer down some dusty logging road. They lived close by, two sisters, and l remember them being tall, giants, they were like vikings. We ran and played, it was like scenes from "the sound of music", running through tall grass fields, if only we had sung. We played games, re-enactments of "Gunsmoke" and once we tried to smoke some hollow dried grass shoots, it didn't go so well. I favoured one sister, the blond one, she had the longest silkiest hair, and to me at that age, she was a goddess.
"Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying. You can burn the midnight oil with me as long as you will Stare out at the moon upon the windowsill, and dream..." -tom waits
I've spent many years talking, meeting people on the street, but it took a long time before l learned of "the family" on the street. I met these three one night, down a alley, behind a building, two men, one boy, one dog, one cat.
Luminosa Obscura, they were sitting, resting, talking, laughing, smoking, drinking, huddled together around a invisible fire, the dog at the hearth, the cat nestled into the boy's tummy. It was a family, it was a sense of belonging. I came away feeling the glow and warmth of their shared fire. ---
At the risk of sounding like l'm still in grade seven. Well, Mike is my best friend. I've known him since college, over twenty years now. Mike and l spent alot of time together over the years. He was a year ahead of me in college, and every friday we would go to the pub up on 16th ave in calgary, drink beer with jimmy and some of the instructors, play pool, darts. After college l convinced Mike to move to the island with me. We raced to the island, him in his red rx7 and me in my yellow Volkswagen bug. He didn't stay long that first time, but l convinced him again years later to come back, l got him a part time job where l worked and when l was fired, he ended up taking my place. He was so much better at it. We did alot of bike rides, most of vancouver island and then one summer spent 13 days riding to calgary, well high river actually, did you know there are four mountain ranges in between vancouver and calgary. The good, the bad, and the ugly, l could tell mike any of it and he would never judge, never scorn, it was his presence, his friendship, his love. He was there helping my old friend mike labrie when he died, and he sat with huey when he died. He sat with his mom this year when she died.
I hope that when l am dieing, Mike will come and sit with me...
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