There are those moments.
Few and far between.
Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it
Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face
And said I just don’t care?
And you have to…. Listen.
Listen to that inner voice that tells you… this is the right thing to do. And you know have to … just do it.
It wasn’t that long ago that I came in here, in Docudharma, and posted a, erm, spontaneous quick essay…. mostly music, with just the glimpses of information that I had from a phone call that my ex husband Mik had died. March 7 2010 it was. The warmth and embraces in words and songs I was greeted with here were most comforting as I waited to hear more details. It was hard.
Several of his/my closest friends, of 30 years, tried to process the various facts and rumors that unfolded over the following weeks. I talked, I asked questions, I was finally able to suss it out… I think. And come to terms, on at least a functional level, with the fact that, yeah, it was suicide. I guess. We’ll never really know. He left no note. which is … ??? … uncharacteristic.
What brought him to that ultimate surrender? How could he … what deep dark hole had he fallen into that he could do that… to his mother, to his son? And… he knew better. He knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a phone call like that…. when we got word that George offed himself, December of 1983. George, age 24 at the time, a fellow artist and friend of Mik’s and co-worker with us at the Runaway Shelter where we all worked … George lived with his granny. He taped a letter to the outside of his bedroom door, we heard, many days later, that said: “Don’t come in. Ive locked the door securely. Call the police. I’ve shot myself.” We never did hear what else was in that letter. But Mik and Joe and Pat and me shared swigs off a flask of whiskey that one of us brought to that terribly formal stuffy tea and crumpets funeral.
Oh the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease to be breathin’.
Like the stillness in the wind
‘Fore the hurricane begins,
The hour when the ship comes in.
He knew worse than most people ever could imagine knowing, the horror and finality of one decisive very bad bad moment… when he was living in L.A. and working movie crew set building or something with “Ants”… Anthony… this happened a few years after he & I had dissolved but remained friends. He and Ants and Ants’ GF were all in the front seat of the car about to drive off heading home from a friend’s apartment in Hollywood I think. Some guy, some nobody no one never mind person approached the driver’s side window and motioned Anthony to roll down the window. “Give me all your money.” Anthony, naturally, replied “Go fuck yourself!”. Then the gun blasted right though the car window, shooting him in the head, and Mik grabbed GF and made a dive for the floor. The perp took off. Mik and GF spent several hours in isolation, they were witnesses, while the cops who showed up argued over which district had jurisdiction. Guess they were right on some borderline. Mik & GF were eventually let go and sent home. It was, to say the least, a profound and harrowing experience.
Hmmm, just found this, comment in a blog…
Linda says:
March 11, 2010 at 3:26 pmI have a very special relationship with Mik. He was with me in LA when my fiance and his very good friend Anthony McC was killed by a drive by shooting. Anthony had hired him for welding for a huge project for Paul Mcartney’s stage back in 1989. I don’t think Mik was ever the same after both of us lost Anthony in such a violent way. I gratefully own one of Mik’s delicate [sculture] roses that I will always cherish forever. Mik was such a sweet and funny guy, loved by so many. I would like to think of him with Anthony being happy and a little mischievous as they were on this earth. I would like to know if there are any memorials for Mik, because I would love to attend.
God Bless you Mik. One of these days I will join yall and we can have a huge party!
Linda
Linda, yes, that was her name.
Oh the seas will split
And the ship will hit
And the sands on the shoreline will be shaking.
Then the tide will sound
And the wind will pound
And the morning will be breaking.
Wow Im up way past my bedtime. I dont know if Ill have the zizz to finish thi sup int eh morning. we’ll see.
Oh the fishes will laugh
As they swim out of the path
And the seagulls they’ll be smiling.
And the rocks on the sands
Will proudly stand,
The hour that the ship comes in.
And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they’re spoken.
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean.
A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat drifts on to the shoreline.
And the sun will respect
Every face on the deck,
The hour that the ship comes in.
Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a-touchin’
And the ship’s wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin’.
Oh the foes will rise
With the sleep still in their eyes
And they’ll jerk from their beds and think they’re dreamin’.
But they’ll pinch themselves and squeal
And know that it’s for real,
The hour when the ship comes in.
Then they’ll raise their hands,
Sayin’ we’ll meet all your demands,
But we’ll shout from the bow your days are numbered.
And like Pharaoh’s tribe,
They’ll be drownded in the tide,
And like Goliath, they’ll be conquered.
Cuz I was going somewhere with it.
If you want to become whole,
let yourself be partial.
If you want to become straight,
let yourself be crooked.
If you want to become full,
…let yourself be empty.
If you want to be reborn,
let yourself die.
If you want to be given everything,
give everything up.– Tao Te Ching