It is now Feb 2022. I only recently found your wonderful substack and of course, I subscribed. I am catching up on The Melting, understanding that it began in the earliest days of the pandemic, of lockdown. I know that everything shut down like a day or two before you and the band were set to go on a world tour. It must have felt like a door slammed in your face just as you were going through it. WOW, Patti. You were packed, ready and feeling expansive, only to suddenly be held captive in your own home. Also NYC was the absolute ground zero for Covid in the US. Your writing in these first two installments captures the feeling of early lockdown so well. I love the part where you mentally revisit a trek to an ancient Roman tunnel that leads to the Tomb of Virgil. What a magical and transcendent experience you had there, only now feeling that perhaps you were too cavalier, never considering that you may not be able to wander and travel there again. Thankfully, you have been able to tour again, at least you did for a while last summer and you will go again. In the meantime, please know how grateful I am to have joined your substack experiment as you share The Melting each week and post all manner of other gifts of your poetry and music. Now back to The Melting. So much love to you, Patti, and a belated Happy 75th Birthday!!! ❤️
Hi Patti, I used to travel just like the way you described, to be more precise, the past ten years. When the pandemic started, we were in Tokyo, than Hong Kong , China, Vietnam and Cambodia, when China closed the city, we went to Taipei and decided to came to New York… everything else is history, I found myself more centered, grounded in a way. The world has changed and it’s still changing, we’ll see, only God or life, make the final call. Appreciate your writing, thanks for sharing..good night from Brooklyn
Reading about your travels and their ghosts (though, I'm guessing the answer is "yes", I ask anyway), I wonder if you have been to Marrakech? My parents used to take us there for the winter - they had seasonal stores on the boardwalk in Ocean City, NJ (before we moved to Laguna Beach, CA) - when I was little. The memories of the fresh yogurt from the medina and the Moroccan Mint Tea lovingly haunt me, calling me back there and back in time. I hope to answer their call. Much Love to you.🖤
I was ensconced in a few weeks of melancholia, scarcely checking my inbox, let alone writing words of my own. Had I read this then, the melancholy might have lifted, but I held it tight like a life jacket. “I touch each flowing ribbon in order to deter strands of magic from unraveling.” Though mine aren’t ribbons but beads on a sandalwood mala gifted from my father, a frayed scarf from a dear friend, pages of letters from my deceased brother, so many talismans i seek out - reminders of distant loves held close, containing a magic I fear the world is increasingly blind to. Your words, Patti, are strands of magic.
I sense you pacing as these words first form in your head and eventually onto paper. You have perfectly captured the prison suspension of the pandemic down to the last dotted i and crossed t. xx
".. an unfamiliar otherness seeping in..." while we sit quietly in masks waiting for this virus to pass. If it was war or simple injustice - a wrong to be addressed - we'd normally be gathered with others or visiting our haunts or your concerts in a spirit of quiet (or noisy!) activism. The mask is such a symbol of these times. You have a special calling and I imagine it must be difficult for you not to be able to shout all over the planet.
"..I touch each flowing ribbon in order to deter strands of magic from unraveling...perhaps, I tell myself, this is what it means to hang on a thread"
It is as if we all had a tambourine somewhere in the corner of our inner room, and Robert's gift to you was a shaman's depiction of it. Now we all hang on a timeless thread ..
What inspires me the most dearest Patti is your deep humility and kindness in all your writing....so touching , so human....thank you for being here and sharing this...
Beautiful writing, Patti. The last few sentences were arrows sent straight to my heart. Ah, that wonderful "tambourine," reminding of the precious things that tie us visually, audibly, tactilely, perhaps spiritually to places we've been and people we've shared lives with. They are the slender threads connecting us to loved ones no longer living in this earthly realm. This pandemic time sure has re-opened some processing of grief on many levels that I thought I'd come to terms with. But this time around, with so much quiet time on my hands, I've been feeling what you describe in the loss of your loved ones as "they offer the new, not merely the realm of the dead or shared memory, but an imaginative energy revitalizing what we call heaven." Truly, this writing of yours is salve for the soul....thank you.
Thank you Patti. I recall these days too. The restlessness was unbearable. In my very small apartment, I wrote ideas and thoughts on sticky notes. Thoughts that I wanted to think about instead of the ones pressing on me, intrusive and relentless. I walked in circles, like stations of the cross, and gazed at these better thoughts, holding my spot until I could imagine what it might feel like to be in that different state of mind, before moving on to the next. Weeks went by doing this until finally some of the sticky notes stuck.
oh this makes me feel your loss, feel your longing, these times are so very difficult for nomadic souls. we have to keep travelling in our creative work, it's just sometimes the travelling can be more internal. Rilke said the truest journeys are internal. I don't entirely agree but i can see what he's getting at. You're travelling on here Patti, and taking us with you this time. That's nice. Thank you.
Thank you dear Patti , as you have mentioned Robert Mapplethorpe and your 21s birthday ! and brought me to the memory of your beautifull book dedicated to him and such an amazing history that has inspired many people to choose and go for their dreams, as you both did. Feel gratefull for your moments and please, have beautifull and positive thoughts that this will change and we will be back in our freedom, it is very hard for all of us. Sending strengh , creativity and love to all to keep on doing small acts that makes our lives good.
Thank you Patti, for weaving us together with your work.
It is now Feb 2022. I only recently found your wonderful substack and of course, I subscribed. I am catching up on The Melting, understanding that it began in the earliest days of the pandemic, of lockdown. I know that everything shut down like a day or two before you and the band were set to go on a world tour. It must have felt like a door slammed in your face just as you were going through it. WOW, Patti. You were packed, ready and feeling expansive, only to suddenly be held captive in your own home. Also NYC was the absolute ground zero for Covid in the US. Your writing in these first two installments captures the feeling of early lockdown so well. I love the part where you mentally revisit a trek to an ancient Roman tunnel that leads to the Tomb of Virgil. What a magical and transcendent experience you had there, only now feeling that perhaps you were too cavalier, never considering that you may not be able to wander and travel there again. Thankfully, you have been able to tour again, at least you did for a while last summer and you will go again. In the meantime, please know how grateful I am to have joined your substack experiment as you share The Melting each week and post all manner of other gifts of your poetry and music. Now back to The Melting. So much love to you, Patti, and a belated Happy 75th Birthday!!! ❤️
Hi Patti, I used to travel just like the way you described, to be more precise, the past ten years. When the pandemic started, we were in Tokyo, than Hong Kong , China, Vietnam and Cambodia, when China closed the city, we went to Taipei and decided to came to New York… everything else is history, I found myself more centered, grounded in a way. The world has changed and it’s still changing, we’ll see, only God or life, make the final call. Appreciate your writing, thanks for sharing..good night from Brooklyn
Reading about your travels and their ghosts (though, I'm guessing the answer is "yes", I ask anyway), I wonder if you have been to Marrakech? My parents used to take us there for the winter - they had seasonal stores on the boardwalk in Ocean City, NJ (before we moved to Laguna Beach, CA) - when I was little. The memories of the fresh yogurt from the medina and the Moroccan Mint Tea lovingly haunt me, calling me back there and back in time. I hope to answer their call. Much Love to you.🖤
I was ensconced in a few weeks of melancholia, scarcely checking my inbox, let alone writing words of my own. Had I read this then, the melancholy might have lifted, but I held it tight like a life jacket. “I touch each flowing ribbon in order to deter strands of magic from unraveling.” Though mine aren’t ribbons but beads on a sandalwood mala gifted from my father, a frayed scarf from a dear friend, pages of letters from my deceased brother, so many talismans i seek out - reminders of distant loves held close, containing a magic I fear the world is increasingly blind to. Your words, Patti, are strands of magic.
I sense you pacing as these words first form in your head and eventually onto paper. You have perfectly captured the prison suspension of the pandemic down to the last dotted i and crossed t. xx
".. an unfamiliar otherness seeping in..." while we sit quietly in masks waiting for this virus to pass. If it was war or simple injustice - a wrong to be addressed - we'd normally be gathered with others or visiting our haunts or your concerts in a spirit of quiet (or noisy!) activism. The mask is such a symbol of these times. You have a special calling and I imagine it must be difficult for you not to be able to shout all over the planet.
'how restless i am' melt me
"..I touch each flowing ribbon in order to deter strands of magic from unraveling...perhaps, I tell myself, this is what it means to hang on a thread"
It is as if we all had a tambourine somewhere in the corner of our inner room, and Robert's gift to you was a shaman's depiction of it. Now we all hang on a timeless thread ..
What inspires me the most dearest Patti is your deep humility and kindness in all your writing....so touching , so human....thank you for being here and sharing this...
Beautiful writing, Patti. The last few sentences were arrows sent straight to my heart. Ah, that wonderful "tambourine," reminding of the precious things that tie us visually, audibly, tactilely, perhaps spiritually to places we've been and people we've shared lives with. They are the slender threads connecting us to loved ones no longer living in this earthly realm. This pandemic time sure has re-opened some processing of grief on many levels that I thought I'd come to terms with. But this time around, with so much quiet time on my hands, I've been feeling what you describe in the loss of your loved ones as "they offer the new, not merely the realm of the dead or shared memory, but an imaginative energy revitalizing what we call heaven." Truly, this writing of yours is salve for the soul....thank you.
God, every word you write is so Poetic and Honest. You are Marvelous Mrs Smith. Thank You for so much Beauty 🌺🤍🌼💐
Thank you Patti. I recall these days too. The restlessness was unbearable. In my very small apartment, I wrote ideas and thoughts on sticky notes. Thoughts that I wanted to think about instead of the ones pressing on me, intrusive and relentless. I walked in circles, like stations of the cross, and gazed at these better thoughts, holding my spot until I could imagine what it might feel like to be in that different state of mind, before moving on to the next. Weeks went by doing this until finally some of the sticky notes stuck.
oh this makes me feel your loss, feel your longing, these times are so very difficult for nomadic souls. we have to keep travelling in our creative work, it's just sometimes the travelling can be more internal. Rilke said the truest journeys are internal. I don't entirely agree but i can see what he's getting at. You're travelling on here Patti, and taking us with you this time. That's nice. Thank you.
Thank you dear Patti , as you have mentioned Robert Mapplethorpe and your 21s birthday ! and brought me to the memory of your beautifull book dedicated to him and such an amazing history that has inspired many people to choose and go for their dreams, as you both did. Feel gratefull for your moments and please, have beautifull and positive thoughts that this will change and we will be back in our freedom, it is very hard for all of us. Sending strengh , creativity and love to all to keep on doing small acts that makes our lives good.
At this point, my dreams themselves have altered. So many dreams about masks...thank you for sharing your inner world as we all forge ahead.