I didn’t quite comprehend everything Van was singing about, but I comprehended the feeling it left me. Astral Weeks, as much as I loved it, was reminding me of things I missed. When I finally heard Veedon Fleece and was struck immediately by that beguiling yearning sound coming out of “Fair Play” I knew I had to follow my heart and pack up my things, as soon as I could, and go back to El Paso to regroup. None of the R&B, world, jazz, or rock music I was discovering could reconcile this feeling I was having. As much as the music I was discovering then reminds me of the many natural, beautiful things I saw when I cranked up my cheap-ass computer speakers and stared out into Alpine’s beautiful horizon…I didn’t feel at home. As much as I loved the serene beauty of the Big Bend area. Music became, at times, the only gateway to experience another time, in another place…so far away. Far from my family, I’d struggle to make friends and felt further out of place from my peers. Then as a young adult leaving home, to find some version of myself, away from my comfort zone…I was lost in the abstraction of this whole new world.
Although, I never saw the rolling hills of Van’s Northern Ireland, I could feel the pastoral abstraction of his music explaining some of those feelings to me.
I’d listen to that opening bass shuffle from “ Astral Weeks“, open up my window, and stare out at those not-so distant Franklin Mountains from my bedroom, and contemplate about those grown man things infiltrating a young teen’s headspace. As a senior in highschool, when I finally received a copy of Astral Weeks, from my local library, for a brief two weeks I dissected that CD into my very being. It was Van Morrison, I then found out, and I was not ready, monetarily and emotionally, enough to receive him. It was folk music, but I didn’t know enough to put that idea in words, let alone comprehend its notion. Back then, when I remained silent at the end, feeling the weight of the song, and feared moving the dial since I might miss hearing who sang that song, I realized the power of a sound I hadn’t encountered before. Sorry for venting.I remember vividly the first time I heard “ Sweet Thing” on the radio. They killed her and didn't even lie anymore.
What the Heparin did was to destroy her vascular system and caused her body to throw embolisms throughout her entire body shutting down her respiratory system and blowing out her heart and lungs. What they did was give her a disease called HIT for short. Then they lied about it and we found out. She didn't stop because the hospital in Tupelo MS gave her Heparin when she was severely allergic to it and then turned around and did it again. For two years they cut her legs off bit by bit because she wouldn't heal. It was the most awful death imaginable and I pray to God that she did not fully realize the terrible things that were happening to her poor body. They let her die of gangrene because they said there was no hope for her. She died yesterday in a hospital in Memphis. She was my sister's baby and looked just like her. I miss you so much, when I'm singing my song I'll just have to guess, where my soul will get comfort 'Till I'm able to see where, I tripped when I went wrong Seems like my spirit, is pushing me onwards You'll find me knocking, on your front door I'll just have to guess, where my soul will find comfortĪnd I miss you so much, when I'm singing my songĪnd sometimes it seems, I'm going to hell I'm able to see, where I tripped and went wrong Seems like the spirit, is pushing me onwards Sometimes I'm knocking, on your front doorīut I don't have nothing, to sell no more Sometimes it feels like, I'm going to hell When will the pain, recede to the darknessįrom whence it has come, and I'm feeling so blue While the rain keeps pouring down, my window too
REMIND ME OF YOU VAN MORRISON FULL
I miss you so much, in this house full of shadows
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