Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Starry Starry night.

I haven't blogged in a while - too busy I suppose. Too many things undone these days. And the list grows. There are things I should make time for and this is one of them. The BOTC trial is over - went off without a hitch. I am so grateful for the people who stepped up to help, it made my job so much easier and I haven't yet taken the time to get thank you notes out (sigh).

Lee is back from Michigan, it was a last minute decision for him to come home this year. I entered the Thanksgiving cluster so I'll be leaving town shortly after dinner. I feel badly leaving town on his only annual visit.

Life with Murphy has been up and down. He blew - and I mean sucked rhino butt - both of his open runs at BOTC. The first day the awards in the other ring was too much for him. The second day he was just naughty.

On a positive note Murphy passed his therapy dog test and has already completed his first visit to a local nursing home. He seemed to really enjoy it so we'll keep going and find our niche.

On another note, I went outside tonight to put spam in the freezer (Murphy's favorite trial treat) and noticed the stars. It's a completely clear night - cold as heck - but clear. There are so many stars the sky almost looks artifical, like a trip to a planetarium. Makes me think of the Don McLean tune...One of my very favorite soul-seeking songs.


Vincent
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...