I'm sitting here trying to pick a font that would easily depict my feelings towards this entry on my blog. But then I realize how inconvenient it really is. None of this would matter when people would really read these words and paint out the picture of the person I am trying to describe.


"For the sun to rot. For the tree to drop."



You may not remember the words to this song very well, or you may not know the words at all, but how they play out of your speakers from your record player or your computer or your stereo, makes you want to remember them. The words that come out of her mouth make you wish that you knew what they meant and that in any time or place, you can easily feel the vibrations that she played against the notes while she sang it.

My dreams have so subtly painted pictures of her, but they can never fully comprehend the soulful look she has when she sings. She is this magnificent being that only the lucky have seen with their own two eyes. Her notes so carefully planned and played out that the musicians fall out of place when listening to her sing and play at the same time. It never gets old. It never gets tiring. She puts a play on. She tells a story of the hurt, the loved, the happy, the sad.


As a child I would hear her voice over my grandmother's record player and I would lay on the carpeted floor wishing I knew who it was. She would constantly drive me to listen to more and more and to beg my grandmother for her record player so that I can listen to it on my own time. How could such a young child live for the raspy flowing voice of a woman who was long gone from a tragedy only known to that time? I was lost and have since then been lost in the field of dreams that she creates when her music plays. People have claimed to have felt this feeling but no one truly understands, very few do.


Her image painted by the media as a horrific drug addict and a sad story to tell. But who takes the time to recognize the fact that she had such talent, no one does. I am writing this as if I had a million readers over my shoulders waiting for me to tell a story of interest but as of this moment I have no story, I only have dreams and my imagination to base my opinion entry on.


"without your love i am like a song without words"

I can only invite you to communicate the feelings you obtain when listening to this woman. She was more than a woman, she was a lady.