I think I've been hiding it fairly well, except once when I nearly lost it during BJJ last night when Coyote Girl perceptively asked about a fleeting expression on my face... but I've been slipping down again. The siren calls of my escapist Irish fantasies are increasing in seduction and irresistibility, and I'm straining once again at imagined chains. My Icarian wings are dripping a beeswax concoction of sorrow and elation, but it's too late: I've already had a tantalizing taste of my own burnt flesh. I have flown high enough to become addicted to the heavens, but don't quite know how to sustain altitude. Supe will indeed have my head as I've not yet followed up on any of the vows I made when she and Saint Cat emotionally nursed me while I was away in DC. Perhaps that's why I've been afraid to call her lately. Then again, it could also be because I'm on the fecking rag again, with lovely migraines to boot.
Nevertheless, as a rope-ladder to the depths from which I've been fighting hard to surface for the past few days, I'm posting ~ yet again ~ music by the wonderful Lisa Hannigan, about whom I'd worshipfully written months ago. What makes me especially happy is knowing there are two tickets waiting for my Sweet Boy and I at the Triple Door to see her perform on the 15th, in support of the Stateside release of her independently-crafted new album, Sea Sew. After falling so deeply in love with her husky, bewitching voice over five years ago, here she'll finally be.
So huzzah for Lisa, Coyote Girl, fiercely loving friends, a gorgeous and supportive man, beautiful BJJ bruises and the rolling that made them... for flipping sad moods out of low funks.
Lisa Hannigan ~ "Lille"
Lisa Hannigan ~ "Pistachio" live at St. John's Church, London
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