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Mad Rain

In your light I learn to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you.
But sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.

Soundless Saturday No. 4 Saturday, May 29, 2010 |

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Soundless Saturday No. 3 Saturday, May 22, 2010 |

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Ryan.... Monday, May 17, 2010 |

May 16, 1905 Actor Henry Fonda was born in Grand Island, Nebraska.

May 16, 1920 Joan of Arc was canonized as a saint.

May 16, 1929 The first Academy Awards were presented during a banquet at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.

May 16, 1946 The musical "Annie Get Your Gun" opened on Broadway.

May 16, 1965 The Campbell Soup Company introduced SpaghettiOs under its Franco-American brand.

May 16, 1966 The album "Pet Sounds" by the Beach Boys was released.

May 16, 1975 Japanese climber Junko Tabei became the first woman to reach the summit of Mount Everest.

May 16, 2010 A soul ascends. A dear friend, departed from this world far too soon. Ryan, you came into my life, a bright light, possessing qualities found in conjunction with only the rarest of souls: truth, beauty, love, happiness, faith, hope. From you, I learned much. Our time together was precious and not nearly enough...you are so missed. Thank you for making a positive impact on my heart. You are so loved.

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Soundless Saturday No. 2 Saturday, May 15, 2010 |

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Soundless Saturday No. 1 Saturday, May 08, 2010 |

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A word from Morrissey on death.... Sunday, May 02, 2010 |

morrissey released an AMAZINGLY eloquent statement over
the sudden & unexpected death of his longtime fan, melinda hsu,
who passed away on april 12th.
even if you are not a fan of morrissey (you heathens)...
this is a pretty incredible tribute to her, and to the folks like her,
who spend so much of themselves on the artists they love.
take a second to read it.

-Mad Rain

Statement from Morrissey
30 April 2010

My trusted ally Janice Long has passed news on to me of the sudden death of Melinda Hsu. I did not know Melinda personally, but I felt as if I did because she had been a front row fixture for many years. In fact, from her many letters and gifts I understood her name to be Mel Torment, or even, when she felt at her most pernickety, Smel - which I'm certain was not her given name. Mel was a smiling face who lent strength to every single concert, even when events were going somewhat pear-shaped. I felt as if I knew Mel because she was always there - regardless of wherever 'there' happened to be; no snowbound landscape too far, no off-the-beaten track too untrekkable. I often handed her the microphone mid-concert and she would always make an effort to say something different each time. What is more, she always seemed so happy to be there on the front row, even though she had heard these live renditions enough times to emaciate the brain of the most inherently decent devotee. However, she was booed by the audience once - in Killarney, when she asked (via microphone) with a tone of disbelief "why Killarney?" but I don't think she meant the contorted snootiness assessed by the rest of the audience because she was not that type.
Those who travel from concert to concert as Mel did possibly don't realize the contribution they make. They are as much a part of the night as I am, but I sometimes feel embarrassed because I think they are asking for more than there is, and, mustily, I can't give it. The goat-like vocals and the tipsy monologues are all that I am.
Mel had passed a note to me at Pomona saying that it would be her final concert of the tour. Yet, hours later, in another venue, there she was again. Even after all she had done, even after all the money she had spent and the millions of miles she had hiked she still could not keep away from the squeeze and bend of yet another version of "First of the gang to die" - never imagining, I'm sure, that it is she who would be the first. As ever delighted and content at Ventura (where we gave our final bow), I cannot imagine whatever it was that Mel believed she saw or felt as she fixed upon the stage night after night, year after year.
Her contribution was a declaration of love for which she seemed to save all of her strength, and for which I could only ever repay with half-witted mumbles of thanks.

The only way to deal with Mel's death is to accept it. There is no other way. We all have a certain unbreakable appointment and we are all helpless targets in that regard. Life's only promise is its final deadline. When Mel, and others who are dear to us, depart, we should at least realize as we shuffle along living our small and persecuted lives, how absolutely ridiculous it is to be afraid of anything or anyone on this unhappy planet. Most people are standardized and unoriginal, which is useful, because it makes the Mels of the world stand out even more. Rich in ideas, her self-made calendars and t-shirts were always very funny. You will catch up with her in the afterlife, where I'm sure she will be as creative and busy and as Mel Torment as ever.

Thank you to Julia at True-to-you for printing this.

MORRISSEY
France, april 2010

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