Overflowing Brady Tarot
Spirit Sleep
In the cradle of time - where echoes softly chime -
A liquid tale unfolds - of sacred waters, untold
Ripple whispers - ancient wise -
Flowing through realms where mystic dreams arise.
Beneath the moon's soft - silver gaze -
Spirited water weave in cosmic ballet -
Glisten stream - veins of earth
Liquid hymns celebrate life -
~Linden
The Bone Lines
Photograph I took at a music venue two weeks before the show - It was a sign
“Well I’m the enemy of treason
Enemy of strife
I’m the enemy of the unlived, meaningless life
I ain’t no false prophet
I just know what I know
I go where only the lonely can go ”
Bob Dylan Ways. Poetic Ways. Music Ways. Rough & Rowdy Ways Tour. I have used the term Ways for as long as I can remember. It is a part of my writing and thinking. I was thrilled when my husband surprised me with tickets to the Rough & Rowdy Ways Tour a few weeks back to go and hear/see Bob Dylan in all of his ways. It was a wonderful concert. In all the Ways! Let me share a bit of actually even getting to this show. It was a bit rough and definitely rowdy.
Firstly, everyone I mentioned the show to had an opinion. Often from people who have never even heard or seen Bob Dylan and his poetic ways. To me - Dylan is a wonder. An absolute wonder. The true mark of a poetic genius is that they never stay the same. Reinvention is the name of the game. Hidden mystery that we are not privy to is just that - none of our business. We have no right to “ownership” over an artist or their creativity. We are just along for the ride. We are the backdrop. Our experience is the matter with which we are creative ourselves. In expectation you freeze something in time. Imagination has no soil to grow in - a sterile soil. Offerings from any artist is a gift. Take the gift - see where it can ride inside of you. If it isn’t smooth for you - what is rubbing against your Ways of Unknowing.
Rough & Rowdy Ways. So, the first attempt of getting to the show. We went to the hotel that we were going to stay at for the night so we didn’t have a long late night ride. This is always what we tend to do - go to the show and drive back late - tired. We were all settled into our room. Looking out over the city I decided to check the venue site. I thought it was a mistake. Is this some kind of fake notice? The venue said the show was cancelled due to venue mechanical difficulties. I kept reading it over and over. Yes indeed the show was cancelled and postposed for another week and half. We checked out quickly and headed home. Sort of in disbelief at the whole ordeal. This was Rough.
I avoided most events and goings on - especially people filled places to avoid getting sick of any kind and not making it to the show for the next time. We made it up to the venue again. I kept wondering if it would be cancelled again - a bit like you know - once it happens - it hangs there in the back of your mind. The hotel manager was cheering for us. All signs looked good. We walked down to the venue past a number of huge tour buses! It was Dylan himself inside the big front bus closest to the backstage entrance. I was waving on the outside as we walked past. I know he saw me. He smiled back and lifted his hand. It was Bob Dylan alright. Now - if only those doors opened and he had invited me inside. We would have a lot to sit in silence about. The excitement was building.
We waited on the venue steps until they began letting us inside. It all flowed pretty smoothly. We left our phones behind as there were no phones or devices allowed in. If you haven’t heard of Yondr you might be as happy as I was. No Phones Allowed! This alone made the show so extra wonderful. For once - not having to watch people’s stupid cell phones while they recorded the show in front of you was absent. It was like the old days of show going. This idea now of recording every moment makes it awful for everyone around you. Your need to photograph and record every single thing around your life - allows you to be absent from the moment while also ruining the person near you and their own experience. I cannot overstate this enough. It is also ultimately the best for the performer. Dylan didn’t have to watch all those screens staring at him while he tried to focus on his own playing experience. He has said - “we can play, or we can pose”. Just because we can’t record a moment - doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. It was beyond fantastic!
So, we were sitting in our seats enjoying talking and taking in the scenery. The Springfield Symphony Hall is a Greek revival architecture building built in 1913. It is known for having “perfect acoustics”. This was indeed our experience. We sat very close to the front. This was a huge gift to me from my husband. Suddenly - the fire alarms went off. We could not believe it. We all had to file out of the building and stand outside on the steps to the front of the massive building. We had already checked in with paper tickets - checked for cell phones - metal detectors. We were treated with humor and kindness which made it fun getting through it all. The folks working that end of the show were fabulous toward us! We waited outside as sirens and multiple firetrucks swarmed in. It was maybe half an hour wait again. We were let back inside again. That went all pretty quickly and we finally settled back into our seats. Those were some Rowdy Ways! It’s true.
I am not really sure how to review a show. I think reviews are something we each take on individually in the moment we are experiencing in our own lives. What is living inside of us. What pain and what joy are we feeling - and the in between. It cannot review this show in any way except to tell you what I was feeling. I cried a bit. I laughed some. My body was warm with the music of Poemsongs. I know Joy Harjo wrote about Poemsongs in the newly to be released book - Bob Dylan:Mixing Up The Medicine. I have always used the word Poemsongs - so I feel in such good company! The music flowed. The band was exceptionally talented and incredibly tight. A music community held together by poems.
The music. I was in the presence of artistic poetics unmatched in this world. I love Bob Dylan and his Ways. The art we love only speaks about who we might be. I was transported in waves over time. His life and words mixed with my own life and memories and words that swirled in the air and in my own heart and mind. It was a stream of melody - words - stanzas - air. Poemsongs floating toward me. I was breathing in Dylan’s very own breath. I think his air just swirled in with imagery of his words and black and white notes on the piano - rhythmically beated out in transported images. I could feel muscle memory remembering all the places I have listened to Dylan’s music and words. His cadence - the scratch - the smooth way he delivers what lives inside of him is just perfect for me. I could listen all day. It is the heartbeat of his words in his voice that holds me. Always. I don’t care what he plays - I am there for it. I want to hear his new stuff. I always want to hear where he is living in the current times. I love all of his music. I don’t need him to play to me what his old ways were. All of his sing/talking - songpoems - sung from that wise heart feels grounding and satisfying - to me. To be carried along by the music was perfect. I liked that he did not stop to converse or introduce songs during the performance except for the end - to introduce his band members. I wasn’t taken out of the experience by songs being introduced or little anecdotes told. Being in a performance without being taken out of just the pure musical performance was a gift we rarely if ever receive in this life. It was like a pure moment being laid down - just that one moment - do with it what we will. The time is still unfolding for me. I just wanted to capture these moments for myself and for you in this brief writing about the time. thank you for all of the Songpoems Bob Dylan. My heart is now filled with his enlivened Ways.
I feel lucky to have Bob Dylan as part of the poetics of my life. Legendary singer-songwriter Bob Dylan performed at a packed Symphony Hall on Sunday evening. Springfield was one of the stops on Dylan’s “Rough and Rowdy Ways” North American tour. Generally regarded as one of the best song-writers ever.
I Contain Multitudes
Today and tomorrow, and yesterday, too
The flowers are dyin' like all things do
Follow me close, I'm going to Balian Bali
I'll lose my mind if you don't come with me
I fuss with my hair, and I fight blood feuds
I contain multitudes
Got a tell-tale heart, like Mr. Poe
Got skeletons in the walls of people you know
I'll drink to the truth and the things we said
I'll drink to the man that shares your bed
I paint landscapes, and I paint nudes
I contain multitudes
Red Cadillac and a black mustache
Rings on my fingers that sparkle and flash
Tell me, what's next? What shall we do?
Half my soul, baby, belongs to you
I relic and I frolic with all the young dudes
I contain multitudes
I'm just like Anne Frank, like Indiana Jones
And them British bad boys, The Rolling Stones
I go right to the edge, I go right to the end
I go right where all things lost are made good again
I sing the songs of experience like William Blake
I have no apologies to make
Everything's flowing all at the same time
I live on the boulevard of crime
I drive fast cars, and I eat fast foods
I contain multitudes
Pink petal-pushers, red blue jeans
All the pretty maids, and all the old queens
All the old queens from all my past lives
I carry four pistols and two large knives
I'm a man of contradictions, I'm a man of many moods
I contain multitudes
You greedy old wolf, I'll show you my heart
But not all of it, only the hateful part
I'll sell you down the river, I'll put a price on your head
What more can I tell you? I sleep with life and death in the same bed
Get lost, madame, get up off my knee
Keep your mouth away from me
I'll keep the path open, the path in my mind
I'll see to it that there's no love left behind
I'll play Beethoven's sonatas, and Chopin's preludes
I contain multitudes
Bob Dylan
