“Like a melody sung by a jester, some are stolen, some are your own…“
These lyrics resonate with me, but that’s a fact I don’t share for fear that it would pull the strings and unveil all the details within my fabric – something which you kind Sir, form a part of…
…And of all the possible ways I could’ve woven you in there, it is your literary work that I grew a serendipitous affinity with; and by that of course, I’m referring to your 2014 letter: “DEAR DAMIEN RICE’S SEMINAL 2002 ALBUM O”
Beyond a fan of your craft, your art or your work, I grew a literary affection and a pure affinity with the string of words right before me; sentences on a page so eloquently speaking a language I understood. Words put together which paralleled my own stream of thoughts, those I could never present so orderly or so daringly.
So I did the worst thing that anyone could, and that is, I co-opted the intangible; I took your words and wrapped them around my own.
Wherever relevant, I dabbed my pen in your ink (in fact, for better analogy, I took your pen from your drawer and then commenced with the ink dabbing, but let’s not get too metaphorical)
Where my words fell short, I subbed you in. Whenever I wanted to express my love for a particular art form, your letter was my reference. And just like that, I became the jester, singing a melody made up of words stolen, and some of my own.
I’ve never quite cracked why I chose to write my melody this way. I don’t think I’m a bad writer and I certainly don’t lack the creativity, it goes far beyond that though.
And I think I came one step closer to figuring it out just recently…
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I recently went to an intimate concert, during which I was wholly hypnotized once more, and whilst listening to the songs, I fell in love all over again – in all its glory and heartbreak – with music. (I don’t mean that lightly, I do genuinely fall in love with it.) It’s a deep love affair I sometimes wish I never learnt to get into, but I get in deep nonetheless.
During this one particular song that was floating around me, I closed my eyes and had a thought… “If I had to be a song, I’d choose you…” Continue reading “Dear Josh: Reflections from a Letter”