Dear Patti, It's February 13th, I heard you yesterday on the radio, on the NPR show Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me!, I was driving to the dump, Saturday morning dump run, isn't it amazing how we find one another. I've loved you, your work (one in the same) forever, we all have our reasons why we love you--mine includes cats, my children, a horse--and now I'm a subscriber because you had the enormous goodwill to be on a silly but precious radio show and so I was able to find out you were someplace called SubStack. I've so far enjoyed a couple of your video blogs, along with Cairo, now I'm catching up on The Melting, and all else. May blessings find you, dear friend, under the waxing moon this lovely cold east coast night.
Thank you Patti for your spirit, your light, your words guiding me through the haze of this moment in time. Its February 7th, 2022 and I am only now reading each and every one of your posts. I sit here at home with IT. I'm quarantined with IT for 5 days and now I have YOU. IT and YOU together causing me to be home and also at home with you Patti. And some day at home with my father, and my mother and my sister who await quietly for me.
Powerful imagery! Using something as primeval as the bison, with "an ancient sorrow written on the plane of their faces" gives a deep sense of all our global sorrows.
We are in the same struggle because the pandemic. Somedays good, somedays bad, depression, weakness... But we get there! Together! With your help, here, make me feel so powerfull and happy. Keep writing, please! Love you💖
Beautiful writing, How lovely to think of Mapplethorpe this way. I am sorry you have encountered so much loss in life wish we could discuss things over coffee somewhere lovely and free of fear and covid..
how lovely. sharing these words means you're not alone and we're not alone, so thank you. It's 5am in this little town in France, still dark outside, in the distance a cock is crowing, and closer by, the small birds are waking up and singing. It's 20th April, and still cold in the mornings, but then the sun comes up and makes all the buildings on one side of the square all golden. Later it will be warm and there will be a few people out and about doing small things, wearing masks, keeping apart, feeling in so many ways the impact of the pandemic. Even after a year, it still feels strange to be so isolated. I am grateful to have my creative work. It alone remains constant. Even when, like you, it's hard to put the pen to the page, even then, our creative work is our companion. Thank you for your inspiring words Patti Smith. i hope you don't mind me sharing these few of mine.
The pandemic gave me a freedom that I had not enjoyed in decades.
Dear Patti, It's February 13th, I heard you yesterday on the radio, on the NPR show Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me!, I was driving to the dump, Saturday morning dump run, isn't it amazing how we find one another. I've loved you, your work (one in the same) forever, we all have our reasons why we love you--mine includes cats, my children, a horse--and now I'm a subscriber because you had the enormous goodwill to be on a silly but precious radio show and so I was able to find out you were someplace called SubStack. I've so far enjoyed a couple of your video blogs, along with Cairo, now I'm catching up on The Melting, and all else. May blessings find you, dear friend, under the waxing moon this lovely cold east coast night.
Thank you Patti for your spirit, your light, your words guiding me through the haze of this moment in time. Its February 7th, 2022 and I am only now reading each and every one of your posts. I sit here at home with IT. I'm quarantined with IT for 5 days and now I have YOU. IT and YOU together causing me to be home and also at home with you Patti. And some day at home with my father, and my mother and my sister who await quietly for me.
I'm breathless... honesty and truth... pure beauty
I am reading The Melting for the first time and it is actually Great writing ! Merci !
Beautiful
Powerful imagery! Using something as primeval as the bison, with "an ancient sorrow written on the plane of their faces" gives a deep sense of all our global sorrows.
We are in the same struggle because the pandemic. Somedays good, somedays bad, depression, weakness... But we get there! Together! With your help, here, make me feel so powerfull and happy. Keep writing, please! Love you💖
Wow. This first installment has pierced my heart...wow. Thank you, Patti. xx
I've just read Chapter 1, having saved The Melting for just the right time. Wonderful imagery created by skillfully placed words.
You’ve captured feelings of sorrow, isolation, and hunger for community that speak to me...thank you!
your words touch my soul deeply...remind me of our commune ground...so vulnerable open ...thank you!❤️
your words touch my soul deeply...remind me of our commune ground...so vulnerable open ...thank you!❤️
You Beautiful Angel 🤍🤍🤍🤍
Beautiful writing, How lovely to think of Mapplethorpe this way. I am sorry you have encountered so much loss in life wish we could discuss things over coffee somewhere lovely and free of fear and covid..
how lovely. sharing these words means you're not alone and we're not alone, so thank you. It's 5am in this little town in France, still dark outside, in the distance a cock is crowing, and closer by, the small birds are waking up and singing. It's 20th April, and still cold in the mornings, but then the sun comes up and makes all the buildings on one side of the square all golden. Later it will be warm and there will be a few people out and about doing small things, wearing masks, keeping apart, feeling in so many ways the impact of the pandemic. Even after a year, it still feels strange to be so isolated. I am grateful to have my creative work. It alone remains constant. Even when, like you, it's hard to put the pen to the page, even then, our creative work is our companion. Thank you for your inspiring words Patti Smith. i hope you don't mind me sharing these few of mine.