What a beautiful column. You have told readers little of you or Sam, but as much as anyone could need to know. I feel warm and sad simultaneously. Thank you!
A Gift for Patti—We were not supposed to live this long. A memory from the Chelsea Hotel.—
"The Chelsea Hotel had a hierarchy. The more prestigious the guest, the higher the floor. Troublemakers lived in the basement with the ghosts of Sid and Nancy."
The Chelsea Hotel
10
In her mind, Alan was to blame for her fall from grace and her sudden exodus uptown to the Chelsea Hotel. Infamous for death and rebirth, both in the literal and the spiritual sense, the hotel had a well-known history of housing a bizarre array of guests. Inside, the thick iron banisters lined hallways haunted by the living and the dead. Petra should know she was one of its specters. Clad in pink striped silk pajamas, she roamed the halls, night after night, chasing hallucinations.
By this time, she was a 98-pound, flesh-on-bone, cocaine-crazed, drug-dealing, heroin addict. The Chelsea, like a hip, exclusive club, had a hierarchy. The more prestigious the guest, the higher the floor. Troublemakers lived in the basement with the ghosts of Sid and Nancy. They placed her on the fourth floor overlooking 23rd Street. Stanley, the hotel proprietor, would soon regret that prominent placement.
“I should have paid more attention to her and less to the man paying for the room.”
“Oh, Stanley, did you think I had a sugar daddy? Well, in a sick, twisted way, I guess I do.”
Hello Patti, a few days ago I got a call from my local second-hand book store saying my book was in. I couldn't remember which book it was and they said it was a book i requested in 2018, 'Spy of the First Person' by Sam Shepherd. I was a bit gobsmacked and delighted, I couldn't believe they had kept that note on hand all those years. Holding it now, thin and yet full of sensuous moments, reflected voices and places appearing like horns blowing in the distance. I will read it slowly like last words deserve to be devoured.
Thank you for your wonderful brain and magnificent words. I really needed inspiration tonight. I left my husband and am raising my kids and a bucolic Basset Hound on my own in a rickety but lovely old Victorian house, circa 1888. I realize that listening to you and PJ Harvey on vinyl may help me feel stronger. Every day I have to dig deep to keep fighting the man who knocked me up with my beautiful kids and then let us all down so profoundly. Moving forward with strength is hard. I’m finding inspiration is the only way through. With love from Toronto, ready to begin again.
Most beautiful thing I’ve ever read
That was absolutely beautiful about Sam and such a talented writer. He always surprised me.
Thank you for this, he was genuine.
What a beautiful column. You have told readers little of you or Sam, but as much as anyone could need to know. I feel warm and sad simultaneously. Thank you!
❤️
Beautiful ❤️
Nice
Lorca's Poet In NY
I made my 6-year-old watch The Right Stuff this weekend because of your post about Sam. I like the way he played his role very much. He shined.
Sam is here through being deeply in YOU^^
A Gift for Patti—We were not supposed to live this long. A memory from the Chelsea Hotel.—
"The Chelsea Hotel had a hierarchy. The more prestigious the guest, the higher the floor. Troublemakers lived in the basement with the ghosts of Sid and Nancy."
The Chelsea Hotel
10
In her mind, Alan was to blame for her fall from grace and her sudden exodus uptown to the Chelsea Hotel. Infamous for death and rebirth, both in the literal and the spiritual sense, the hotel had a well-known history of housing a bizarre array of guests. Inside, the thick iron banisters lined hallways haunted by the living and the dead. Petra should know she was one of its specters. Clad in pink striped silk pajamas, she roamed the halls, night after night, chasing hallucinations.
By this time, she was a 98-pound, flesh-on-bone, cocaine-crazed, drug-dealing, heroin addict. The Chelsea, like a hip, exclusive club, had a hierarchy. The more prestigious the guest, the higher the floor. Troublemakers lived in the basement with the ghosts of Sid and Nancy. They placed her on the fourth floor overlooking 23rd Street. Stanley, the hotel proprietor, would soon regret that prominent placement.
“I should have paid more attention to her and less to the man paying for the room.”
“Oh, Stanley, did you think I had a sugar daddy? Well, in a sick, twisted way, I guess I do.”
For the rest of the story:
rachelvictorianna.substack.com
Thank you
One of the greatest play writes ever. He, and his contributions to our artistic landscape are truly missed and cannot be overstated.
Hello Patti, a few days ago I got a call from my local second-hand book store saying my book was in. I couldn't remember which book it was and they said it was a book i requested in 2018, 'Spy of the First Person' by Sam Shepherd. I was a bit gobsmacked and delighted, I couldn't believe they had kept that note on hand all those years. Holding it now, thin and yet full of sensuous moments, reflected voices and places appearing like horns blowing in the distance. I will read it slowly like last words deserve to be devoured.
So beautiful. Written only as one would blessed by the love of true friendship.
Thank you for your wonderful brain and magnificent words. I really needed inspiration tonight. I left my husband and am raising my kids and a bucolic Basset Hound on my own in a rickety but lovely old Victorian house, circa 1888. I realize that listening to you and PJ Harvey on vinyl may help me feel stronger. Every day I have to dig deep to keep fighting the man who knocked me up with my beautiful kids and then let us all down so profoundly. Moving forward with strength is hard. I’m finding inspiration is the only way through. With love from Toronto, ready to begin again.