The only newsletter brave enough to tackle impressionism and the prince of darkness in one swing.

Probably.

[Losing Blue]

Was it Claude Monet?
or someone like him?
They said he lost the color blue.

called it “cataracts” in terms of science
but that version ignores the silence.
how the yellows moved in,
undetected
quiet.

so I scream it, like warnings
“his eyes!” “his eyes!”
like burning rooms, filled with smoke.
until Claude Monet, or someone like him
lived and breathed through filtered tones.

and everyday,
slowly
Monet lost his blue without ever knowing.

he painted still, as painters do
water lilies and rivers
in sunken hues
in reds, in browns, in muted rust.
he painted until his skies turned to mud.

everyday,
slowly
Monet lost his blue without ever knowing.

my friends are becoming painters now
so I scream it, like a warning
because we might fucking lose our blue without ever knowing.

A Lesson From Ozzy

There’s been a lot of talk surrounding the passing of Ozzy Osborne. Not only of his legacy and his impact on music, but the timeliness of this death.

The Black Sabbath Farewell Concert kicked off only a little over 2 weeks ago and served many fans as a “pre-funeral” tribute concert - Something we don’t often have the luxury of seeing, well… before.

A Priori

Let’s be honest. Recognizing and articulating one’s grief before death just isn’t feasible. Yet, so many of us are in awe of Ozzy’s final weeks. He pulled it off. He properly said his goodbyes, he celebrated his life, and he was a part of the funeral ritual, his funeral ritual… well, before.

A priori, of sorts.

We don’t have to lose someone to know what it would feel like to experience that loss. We don’t need the tangible absolutes of grief to know the space it would take to hold.

“So, what’s stopping us from telling people now?” No. It’s not revolutionary. “Tell them how you feel before it’s too late.” But…

Maybe that’s not at all what I’m saying.

What if Ozzy’s farewell isn’t as much about the tribute-funeral-ritual of it all, as much as the act of being witnessed and witnessing?

It’s very “Mad Max”, I know. But what if that is the whole point? To spend time spending time - doing the things we care about for and with the people we care about.

What if the whole point isn’t to just tell people how you feel, it’s finding ways to feel it with them. To be witnessed and to witness.

And we can’t witness from the grave.

until next time. -cd