William Fitzsimmons – I Don’t Feel It Anymore (George Raquet Remix)

Just a quick report on Chemo Monday – Cycle 3 of 6.

Best yet. I followed up that suggestion from 3 weeks ago to ask for dilution – basically two bags in at the same time so it still lasts 2 hours. Still means I’m there from 09:30 until 17:30 but at least no later. So there was far less pain during the infusion (maybe 15 mins, which is down from the 1 hour on day 1). It can be borne for that time, but an hour is a long time wanting to tear a needle from your arm to stop the needle-y pain up your veins. Other tests (blood, weight, etc) still undramatic – all in the normal range.

Check out the MP3 for my new best favourite singer-songwriter. I have a weakness for art borne out of tragedy and pain, and this song is a remix of one from William’s album “The Sparrow and the Crow” that I started listening to back in August/September.

William’s album was written in the aftermath of his divorce. He spent time looking in the various fairy-tale myths involving birds and decided his wife was the sparrow, he was the crow.

He says:

“The main idea for the record title came on a drive I was taking out in the country here in Illinois. I noticed a couple birds flying together against a strong wind and suddenly, one of the two turned and flew away, leaving the other one alone. For some reason it just seemed rather poignant and explanatory to everything I had gone through in the last couple years.”

Two details about William: (1) he has the most remarkable beard in folk music today – Fleet Foxes eat your hearts out; (2) both his parents are/were blind and musicians.

I spent this last weekend before Chemo clearing out the summer/autumn garden for the winter/spring. Mostly that meant chopping down the beautiful veined foliage of the Canna lilies before the frost gets to the rhizomes. I replaced them with three sets of tulips – 20 each of Tulipa ‘Couleur Cardinal’, Tulipa ‘Havran’ and Tulipa ‘Red Shine’ . These range from warm red to deep plum to dark blackcurrant in colour, and I planted them individually in separate containers to get a colour scale. It was the last time for two weeks that I could plunge my hands into cold soil, and mid December would be too late to plant tulips. Now, at least, I have the anticipation of beauty when they flower in April/May.

As Anne Michaels puts it in her book “Fugitive Pieces”:

“Find a way to make beauty necessary; find a way to make necessity beautiful.”