Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Thoughts on love written in a fog of sleep-deprived delirium and while sweating

I made a mix CD today and remembered something. I was front row centre at a Patti Smith show, her first after her husband Fred’s death. She started to play a song for him, just her on acoustic guitar, but she fumbled and stopped. Looking somewhere past the audience, she quoted Fred to herself: “Clarity, Patricia.” Then she started the song again.

This is, I think, an inkling of love at its best: a close observation of an endearing flaw, noticed with encouragement and deep affection, and premised on an absolute faith in the promise of the one who is loved. You have to know the tiniest bones of a person to have this, and, at the same time, to admire them as something different and apart from yourself.

I wonder if I could love someone I didn’t admire in this way? And why I always wonder about such things when I’m terribly tired?

2 comments:

Caron said...

"This is, I think, an inkling of love at its best: a close observation of an endearing flaw, noticed with encouragement and deep affection, and premised on an absolute faith in the promise of the one who is loved. You have to know the tiniest bones of a person to have this, and, at the same time, to admire them as something different and apart from yourself."

Fucking brilliant, Vila. I realize that what I just ended with the B.F. of only a few months didn't anywhere near approach this. Thanks for the clarity...

Anonymous said...

Hmmmmmm, you also cried at the show, we all did, I looked around and there were all my friends, in tears...

I'd read interviews where people talk about "the show that changed their life" and I'd think huh? It's just a fucking rock show... I finally understood when I saw this performance. This would be the show I'd mention, and I still don't even own any of her records. I gave horses away, but this show was above and beyond.