Between Sekhmet and Hathor I burn

How do you begin to write about seeing that artist? The one that you have dreamed of seeing for 19 years. The one that heals your bruised and broken places. The one that steels your resolve when it’s time to change. The one with whom music is a sacred/religious/spiritual experience (well as close to sacred/religious/spiritual as you can get with your clothes on!)

i work in the industry so i knew she was coming before most people. Considering i am so moved by the music she births into the world, it was no surprise that when the shock wore off the tears kicked in (what can i say? I am a very emotional woman).

On Friday night my tension was turned all the way into overdrive. It was a miracle that i didn’t have a loudstupid fight with Michael (we talked about my need to piss on every good thing that happens for me, and i felt at the same time defiant and deflated). Saturday morning came, and in a nightmare i was denied access to the show. My heart broke. i could not pick up the shards when i woke. i lay broken of heart, and sick from the sadness staring at the ceiling and listening to my dog snore. By the time i had to communicate with another human, my brain had become pulped by all the painful memories of a lifetime of stored-perceived-self inflicted disappointment. i snapped at Michael. He comforted me, and got me to stop growling, at least on the outside. By the time it was time to leave for the show i was in a state of frenzy that bordered on psychotic. She played the first song and the river of years of pain began to move in me. It writhed like a snake waking from a century of hibernation. Slow, thick, black, and sticky deep in my guts. i cried through every song. Not what i was expecting! i  managed to dry my face just as the house lights went up. i leaned heavily on Michael’s arm. i don’t think he noticed. The music had touched him in another way. Made a curiosity  in him wake. He chattered away about being transported. Enthralled.

Deep down my pain snake slithered out “you sssssee, sssssshort end of the ssssssstick…assssss ussssual…ssssssssucking the hind tit – hissssssipurrrrrr – sssssssstupid sssssslag”All night long the snake tempted me. Seduced me. Gave me delusions. i got no sleep.

Sunday morning i blurted venom into the void of social media, aimed the poisoned arrow at my husband. He got hit, and it bled. We tore at each other. Dressed and left for the show. From the first chorus, the tears began. By the middle of the show i’m sure everyone in that row could feel the violence of the sobs that racked my ribcage. Completely emptied. Bruised. A mulberry stain to the soul. I felt hollow. A vacant stare. Not there.

Monday morning, the tension that was building between two of my dogs came to boiling point. i had to give up a little shy, insecure dog to prevent a cruel end for both of them. Right action is not always easy, or painless. i cried all the way to work. i have never felt so drained. i felt on the verge of passing out all day. In the late afternoon, had an hour long phone call with my dad that felt like banging my head into the wall. Broken. i laid down. No sleep came. Then time was ripe, and my very excited 14 year old was ready to go. We drove out – me flinching with every kilometer, painfully aware that i had finished the tissues in my handbag. F_U_C_K !

As the lights went down, calling her out for the last time in Johannesburg. My heart lodged in my throat, not beating. The songs came, and the pain was gone. i finally know what it feels like to cry a river. More importantly, and thanks to her, i know what it feels like to be washed clean by a river of your own tears. What a gift! From within the warm glow of my profound gratitude! Thank you Tori Amos. The performance was wonderful! Flawless! Darcy and i left bouncing, and giggling. Underneath the euphoria i could hear my dream landscape calling me. At last Mari came to claim me.

Two days have passed since, my the creative juices are pooling, and percolating…stay tuned…

Don’t be afraid to cry, you cannot always see who stands you by. Sekhmet  or Hathor

Welcome the fires of change. May rising from the ashes of your own burning speed wind to the wings of your Phoenix. You have my love always x



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s