Thursday, July 11, 2013

sitting. watching. listening.






Blow My Blues Away by George Mitchell came in the mail yesterday. The title references a blues song which is written on the last pages of the book.

Sun go'n shine in my backdoor someday,
And the wind go'n blow my blues away.

Beautiful. Exquisite song of prayer.

And I just gave away the ending.








It is one of those books which make you want to call a friend so I show it to Josh.

He takes the book. Opens it. There's a bookmark.

Don't let it fall out. I'm in the car. He's in the window.

Cool. He says.

The foreword is exquisite, I say, if you read that you'll know. I'll let you borrow it when I get finished.

Let's just say he can tell I am excited.

Okay. He says. I'm going up to Mom's for pie.

I'm on my way for tomato sandwiches.

See ya' there.








When I finally got to the blues it was 1998. Mitchell wrote the book in the form of a thesis in 1967. It has his black and white photographs but not like the huge shiny coffee table book we grew
a
custom.

This one is beautiful in it's copyright is 1971 by Louisiana State Press. The pages are not glossy, they have a particular feel. The photographs, you take off your glasses and study. I am in love with a material, a thing, but at some point don't we all pick our vices.


The official moment of me coming to the blues was when I walked in a juke joint on highway four between Holly Springs and Senatobia. My husband was a drummer and playing that night. He explained to me the importance before I walked into the room. This was the most incredible music and crowd I'd ever see.

And let me tell you.

Wow. It was. I fell in love.


Today I am grateful for books and music and books about music.



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