"Stay" is a charming word in a friend's vocabulary.
- Louisa May Alcott 1832 - 1888 American writer
“Always there remain portions of our heart into which no one is able to enter, invite them as we may.”
- Mary Dixon Thayer 1896 American writer
I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing.
- Katherine Mansfield 1888 - 1923 New Zealand born English writer
Children require guidance and sympathy far more than instruction.
- Anne Sullivan 1866 - 1936 American educator
( And encouragement, hugs and praise - lots of praise. gg)
You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don't try.
- Beverly Sills 1929 American opera singer and manager
Light tomorrow with today!
-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1806 -- 1861 English poet
Seattle, Washington, USA
One of the things about equality is not just that you be treated equally to a man, but that you treat yourself equally to the way you treat a man.
-- Marlo Thomas 1943 American actress
Writing with Joni Mitchell
The Columbia River Gorge in Oregon and Washington.
Lately I’ve been recovering memories. I have an odd memory of writing Circle Game with Joni Mitchell. I’ve always known I wrote a poem with almost identical words but couldn’t figure out how she got it. Just this summer, my amnesia left. Now I can remember. Joni co-wrote Circle Game, Both Sides Now, and Woodstock with me as I sat on the floor and used a coffee table to write on while she paced the floor. I also gave her a few lines from Killing Me Softly, but admittedly, she wrote most of that.
As always, my slave-owners whisked me away before we had a chance to get everything tied up, and they left no trace of me.
My induced amnesia is leaving and I have memories of writing poetry that was turned into songs. Two extraordinary writing sessions, when I was in my mid-teens, were with Joni Mitchell and Paul Simon.
Joni wanted to quit writing after Circle Game because she said she can only write one song in a day because it took a lot out of her, but it didn’t take us long because the words stayed pretty much the same, so I talked her into writing another song, it was fun. We worked on Both Sides Now. That poem took a bit of tweaking to turn it into a song. Then, after we finished Both Sides Now, which she wanted to call Clouds, she said that was it. She said she was emotionally drained. She would much rather make money from her artwork which she found exhilarating. She said let's talk about something else and I remember being flabbergasted that she wanted to have a discussion with me.
Joni said, "Let's talk about Woodstock. What do you think about that? How do you think so many people got together with no violence - just fun? How many people were there? Several hundred thousand?"
"Half a million I think."
"Half a million -- that sounds a lot better. I mean the sound of it, the way the word sounds, is nicer."
Since then I've always paid attention to the way the words sound. She asked again how I thought that was possible, so I said, "Well, we're all Stardust, really."
Joni said, "What?"
I thought she didn't understand what I meant so I said, "We are all billion-year-old carbon."
Joni stopped her pacing and turned toward me, "Who are you? How do you come up with all these ideas? There's something about you," she told me.
I said, "I think of myself as a child of God." I did, too, because my home life was so horrific, and I knew ‘the Lady’ always watched over me and felt that she was my real mother, more so than my actual mother.
Joni threw up her hands, "That's it! We're writing another song."
And so together we wrote Woodstock. That was absolutely exhilarating. It's so unfortunate to me that those memories were stolen. I would have had some wonderful memories to carry me through life. Now, I'm at the end of my life and I'm just now remembering. Sucks, don't it?
It's so frustrating to have these memories and not be able to get through to the people I'm remembering. It is absolutely crazy making. Please read my book, Babble On, for information on how that’s possible.
Joni looked through my notebook as my jailers came to take me away. She saw the beginning of a poem called Killing Me Softly and asked if she could take and work on it.
I was drugged and tortured to forget and brought home and put in my bed. I always went to sleep in my bed and woke up in my bed and so I didn't suspect anything. Please read my ebook, Babble On, to see how all this is possible. These memories are like puzzle pieces, some parts are so clear, and some parts are completely missing.
I remember when Circle Game and Both Sides Now came out I was upset because those pages were missing in my notebook so I couldn’t prove I’d written them and I wondered how Joni Mitchell got my poems.
I got the idea for the poem, Circle Game, while riding a carousel. I realized each time I went around I was in a different place because time was going forward as I went around. When I watched a fixed point on the carousel (behind me) that changed, too, because of time. It feels very real and I can’t get Joni to confirm or deny my question so I’m going to assume I’m right and I hope that by publishing this Poetry ebook, I’ll finally get some answers.
If you know Joni, please tell her I’ve been trying to reach her.
Circle Game
The words to this poem remained largely unchanged.
(It was a firefly in the jar originally; I still think it should be firefly. And the boy came out to wander.)
The Inside of Salvation Mountain in Niland, California
Circle Game
words by Grace Gardener
music by Joni Mitchell
Yesterday, a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
Then, the child moved ten times 'round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, "When you're older", must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
And the seasons they go 'round and 'round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him, "Take your time. It won't be long now.
'Til you drag your feet to slow the circles down"
So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through.
Clouds
Clouds in the mountains on the Georgia Straits in British Columbia, Canada. That’s the ferry boat on route 101.
Both Sides Now
By Joni Mitchell and Grace Gardener
Music by Joni Mitchell
Rows and Flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way
But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way
I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's clouds illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all
Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
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I've looked at love that way
But now it's just another show
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away
I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all
Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way
Oh but now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost but something's gained
In living every day
I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life
at all
Woodstock
By Joni Mitchell and Grace Gardener
Music by Joni Mitchell
I came upon a child of God
He was walking along the road
And I asked him, "Where are you going?"
And this he told me...
He said I'm going on down to Yasgur's Farm,
I'm gonna join in a rock and roll band.
I'm gonna camp out on the land.
and get my soul free.
We are stardust.
We are golden.
We are billion year old carbon
And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden.
Then can I walk beside you?
I have come here to lose the smog,
And I feel to be a cog in something turning.
Well maybe it is just the time of year,
Or maybe it's the time of man.
I don't know who I am,
But you know life is for learning.
By the time we got to Woodstock,
We were half a million strong
And Everywhere there was song and celebration.
And I dreamed I saw bomber jet planes
Riding shotgun in the sky,
turning into butterflies
Above the nation.
We are stardust.
Billion year old carbon.
Caught in the devil's bargain
And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden.
Bridge Over Troubled Water
I've had an electroshock and drug induced amnesia for most of my life. I’ve escaped my wardens five years ago. I wrote an eBook, Babble On about my experience. It’s a very good book that looks at everything from many different perspectives. Good and Evil - Both Sides Now. It will change the world as you see it, and you’ll see things much clearer. As soon as Babble On was published in May of 2012 my memories of other things I did in my life have been coming back in such a steady stream I'm being hit by a wave.
The introduction of Babble On explains things about me that reveal why I would feel the way I do in the poem Bridge over Troubled Water.
These memories are like puzzle pieces, some parts are so clear, and some parts are completely missing.
I'm finding it very difficult to backtrack through my life and find the celebrities I have affected. I would surely have stayed in touch, had I been permitted.
Writing with Paul Simon
I remember being in a room with Paul Simon. I handed him a poem I had written. He commented on the paper. He said everyone gives him lovely paper and typewritten poems, and this is handwritten, with misspellings, the paper is a torn piece of notepad. He looked down at it and got suddenly choked up. “This is the most beautiful poem I've ever read." He looked at me, I was very young. He asked, “You wrote this?" We talked a little bit about its meaning. Its meaning is obvious to me.
He started to pace, and then he asked, "You want me to write music for this?"
"Well," I stammered, "I thought maybe it would make a nice song. I thought maybe we could work on it and turn it into a song."
"Oh no, no, no - I wouldn't change the words, maybe rearrange a couple here and there but I wouldn't want to change the words."
Paul began pacing again and saying out loud to himself, ‘no, that's too high, I have to bring it down some for me to...’and then he turned to me and said, “Did you hear a melody when you wrote this? Everything I’m coming up with is really high. Don’t you hear the melody as high?”
“Whatever you think,” I answered.
"This is for Artie -- Artie's got to sing this.” He thought a while more and asked, "Would you mind if I didn't sing this? What I have in mind is too high, I can’t hit those notes comfortably and I don't want to change the melody it's beautiful." I told him I didn't mind - it was his song.
After we were done writing, we talked a bit about living in the city. I said, “Yeah, well, the words of the profits are written on the subway walls.”
Paul said, “And tenement halls.”
I said it was a line from another of my poems. I had been told he only wanted me to bring one poem and Bridge Over Troubled Water was my best, so I brought that. Paul asked how the rest of the poem went and I told him as much as I could remember. The name was Sounds of Silence and Paul wrote it down saying he could read his own handwriting better than mine. We laughed.
He said he had to go and write down the music while it was fresh in his mind and that he'd get back to me. He hoped I'd like it as much as he liked my words.
That’s when the people controlling my life took me away. Sounds crazy, but how do you explain a crazy scenario with a rational explanation? You can’t. There’s been nothing logical about my life.
I can remember being together with Paul Simon three times. On another occasion, I remember helping him write, "Call Me Al," and filming the video with Chevy Chase. That was a blast. Chevy has a really good voice and I had him sing for the video. Deeta told me I was Cecelia; and the girl in the garden of delight. Paul may be surprised to find out all those mystery girls are the same girl. (old lady now)
To Art Garfunkel -- thank you, thank you, thank you! Paul was right, the song is beautiful. Better than anything I could have dreamed!
Deeta said it became too difficult to let me write songs because they had to torture me every week, because every time I heard one of my songs on the radio, I'd start to remember. Lloyd, my future husband who I hadn’t met yet, became concerned I’d be brain damaged.
Paul Simon had to add to Bridge Over Troubled Water because it was too short: he added -
“Sail on Silver Girl,
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way”
I had no idea what that meant when the song came out. I think that finally, and at long last, that may be true. I hope I find him soon because he said he’s sailing right behind.
Given my mission in publishing my eBook Babble On, these words were prophetic. I could use some people sailing right behind!
I’ve tried to get through to Paul Simon with no luck.
If you know Paul tell him I’ve been trying to reach him. The people in my ex-husbands group are busy making sure I can’t get through to anyone who can help me.
I truly believe both Paul and Joni will be as happy to see me again as I will be to see them.
Bridge Over Troubled Water
By Paul Simon and Grace Gardener
music by Paul Simon
When you're weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all
I'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
When you're down and out
When you're on the street
W
hen evening falls so hard
I will comfort you
I'll take your part
When darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
(Paul’s lyrics)
Sail on Silver Girl,
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Joshua Tree Park, California, USA
The boulders are amazing and it’s the quietest place at night. I wrote a poem about it.
Not this one, though.
This one’s about being lonely in a crowd; and the truth hides in the night. gg
Sound of Silence
By Paul Simon and Grace Gardener
music by Paul Simon
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
"Fools", said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
Garden of the Light Page 2