Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize in Literature today. I squealed like a schoolgirl at a Beatles concert. Or I should say, a Bob Dylan concert. I love Bob Dylan. I first saw him at 18 with my dad & he hit lit something on fire in me—with that nasal voice, those brilliant lyrics, that effortless scathing genius. I took him into my subconscious & into the wilderness. I wrote college papers comparing his writing to Walt Whitman’s. I memorized the battle-rap-like lyrics of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” on a long daily commute from the cow-dung hell of Caldwell to the corporate hell of DirecTV. I soundtracked my last break-up with Blood on the Tracks & Blonde on Blonde. Thanks & cheers to you, Bob Dylan, the true love of mine.
Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
By Choice royal blue polyester w/ subtle snakeskin tread jacket – $1 (sale), ReStyle thrift store | Diane Von Furstenberg multi-color abstract flower print silk cami – $1 (sale), ReStyle thrift store | Anne Klein II tan silk skirt – $4, ReStyle thrift store | Kate Spade nude wedges – $70 (MSRP $300, ROSS Dress for Less in Portland)
Album of the day: “Hard Rain” by Bob Dylan
Cheep like a bird like Bob Dylan would.
With a rebel yell, they cry, no more because you’ll spoil your appetite.
How frail the human heart must be—a mirrored pool of thought – says the Nietzsche-like cat on the side of my fridge, a screen-print given to me by this sweet girl at a Mostly Muff Valentine’s show at the Visual Arts Collective.
I’ll bet Lois Lane was also secretly a superhero, and both she and Clark Kent/superman were just using each other as norm-core beards. Shazam!
Outfit names just come to me like saintly voices to Joan of Arc. I have no choice. I do my duty—and take the designations as they come.
Now this paints a pretty picture.
I rarely feel overdressed, but last night at the Neurolux, it occurred to me that maybe this silk wonder is a bit much. And then, I draped myself over their pool table. I’ll do anything for fashion. Especially risk being too luxe.
Saucy. ($2 dollar special.)
