Sunday, November 7

Grace Woodroofe

I remember reading an article about her in January 2008. Grace Woodroofe. She went to school with Heath Ledger's half sister Ashleigh who sent Heath Grace's music.... and then he flew her out to LA, introduced her to Ben Harper... and so on. It's a fairy tale. And then of course Heath Ledger died...
Now her album is finally being released. You really should read this article from theaustralian.com.au/
One of the songs titled H... I think you know why, is heartbreakingly beautiful. One of those songs you listen to with your eyes closed, and builds and unregrettable saddness in you. I was almost too effected by Heath Ledger's death. I have a way of attaching myself to people I don't even know (Jeff Buckley...) I remember I went to New York City for the first time in November 2007, and you should have seen me. Walking through Chinatown, walking through Brooklyn, on the subways, just trying to find Heath Ledger. Then a week after I got home there were articles online of him riding the subways with Matilda looking like a homeless man thanksgiving week! Haha, why couldn't I have seen him! The week before he died I had started a portrait of him and his daughter, and I haven't been able to finish it. It's safe to say I'm a dramatic person... I went to London for my senior trip the summer after  he died and I had a list of places I knew he had been filming The Imaginirium of Doctor Parnassus. And then when I was lucky enough to go back to NYC in 2009, I stopped by the Soho apartment he had died in, and the Boerum Hill home he lived in with Michelle and Matilda... okay now I have sufficiently convinced anyone who reads this that I'm thoroughly obsessed with the man, but I guess only to show how I relate to this song. Aren't songs better when you know either what created them, or what makes them real to you? It's not like I wrote it with the dilusional fabrication of knowing him. But by a girl, my age, with a beautiful talent, who knew and lost an unreplaceble friend.


My dad wrote 4 words on a tiny piece of paper,
these are the stages you'll go through. He said
shock, anger, deep denying sadness,
in time acceptance will come too.
Oh, I wish I could fast-forward time, for that matter rewind.
I know you said time was blind,
now you are in a place that only exists in my mind.

I have this image of you leaning out the window,
your lungs encapsulating smoke,
but I would give everything to smell your cigarette's burning,
you were always so impassive when you spoke.

I feel you with me all the time,
your guiding hands lead mine,
but I miss the stories that you'd share,
and the little garments that you always used to wear.

I am wearing nothing but your love,
and I can honestly say
that I think about you everyday.

I have this image of you leaning out the window,
your lungs encapsulating smoke,
but I would give everything to smell your cigarette's burning,
you were always so impassive when you spoke.

Your house is empty, shelves are bare,
your presence felt, but you're not there.
That's where you sit, I mean where you sat,
I am still adjusting to getting used to that.
You won't show up at my door.
Wherever you are I hope you find
what you were searching for.

2 comments:

Come At Me Bro said...

This is great!

JessM said...

I get reeeeally attached to famous people I haven't met too.
I still want to go to Joshua Tree Inn and spend the night in room 8, just because I'm that obsessed with Gram Parsons.
I've also been to Duane Allmans grave like 6 times and every ime I see pictures of Kurt Cobain I get as sad about him being dead as I do about people I actually knew being dead.
I think it's good to be like this though. It's worse to not care at all.

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