This is magnificent, perfect marriage of three concepts and the beauty in decay is perfectly captured. I’ll add a music suggestion, In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, by Neutral Milk Hotel, it can’t be background music, has to be fully listened to, but todays work is up there with that, in the rarified dimensions of great art - cheers!
I was the last child of parents who were the last children. First of all it meant i grew up surrounded by older people. It also meant I grew up hearing the music as well as the sounds of the “high lonesome”. As I grew up in Kentucky, not in the area of Appalachia, but the music and stories of the older generation. At the time I did not know I was hearing sounds and music that would be history, of my family.
I of course knew about Mr. Monroe. I heard that type of music all of my young life. Because I was so young, I did not appreciate how special it was at the time. I can certainly understand now just how important it was.
To say I can definitely relate so much to your piece here is an understatement. My family was old southern “high lonesome” people. Now that I am growing into that generation myself, i can appreciate the music & the stories.
My hubby is 💯 Japanese. While he was born and raised in HAWAII, he was raised in a very Japanese household. When we were first dating we each had stories to tell each other. The ways of the elders, the stories of our childhood. This piece definitely brought back memories of another time, which feels like yesterday. But it was long ago. I feel that my memories put together with his, show just how much these yesterdays were so alike. It is amazing to me just how human beings may look different and sound different, but in the end we are the same. (You didn’t hear it but I just did that high lonesome “wail”). Wabi Sabi
Thank you for this piece. It touched me so deeply.
Another to add to your high lonesome sound is "My Buddy" by Jerry Jeff Walker and also "One Too Many Mornings" by him. Dylan wrote it but nobody can sing it like Jerry Jeff.
My favorite by far, Jason. I will also be writing about wabi-sabi from a photographic perspective. I think you and I were buddies in a past life as this philosophy of life is what I believe in as well.
“I have found that by allowing myself to sit in sadness, I am better able to accept and hold joy. This is the paradox of the high lonesome.”
This was an amazing post, Jason, and these lines especially so! I think accepting and allowing for the multiplicity of emotions and life experiences is somehow the key to feeling both deeply. That’s not to be prescriptive or say it’s easy but there is some magic in making space.
Thank you, Jason for linking wabi-sabi and high lonesome. The closest I can think of in the Filipino psyche is the “kundiman” which is 19th /20th c music (which some folks still appreciate these days.) it was borne with the stirrings of the formation of national consciousness ushered in by 3 centuries of spanish colonization, and yet, is rooted in the colonizer’s old subculture of the troubadours. It’s a contraction of the phrase “kung hindi man” -- “if it never comes to pass” an expression of hope-no-hope duality of unrequited love. As a person, high lonesome or kundiman can also be felt even when one has a close family and partner to share life with. I find high lonesome, wabi sabi, kundiman, as a basic condition of being human. Who was it who said, “alone we are born, and alone we shall die.” Or something like that?
Wow. Jason this is good! The longing, the beautiful sadness in these songs... I feel like autumn sings to us in a high lonesome way about how to love life and also accept the mystery of death. Today, I'm thinking about one of my favorite wild plants-- Jack-in-the-Pulpit-- and the way it produces heavy bright red berries in its old age, reseeding itself for next spring.
High Lonesome Haiku
These poems speak to my soul in this phase of life!
This is magnificent, perfect marriage of three concepts and the beauty in decay is perfectly captured. I’ll add a music suggestion, In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, by Neutral Milk Hotel, it can’t be background music, has to be fully listened to, but todays work is up there with that, in the rarified dimensions of great art - cheers!
Damn, dude! This is rad.
Last child of the old
When they thought there were no more
Sounds of high lonesome
I was the last child of parents who were the last children. First of all it meant i grew up surrounded by older people. It also meant I grew up hearing the music as well as the sounds of the “high lonesome”. As I grew up in Kentucky, not in the area of Appalachia, but the music and stories of the older generation. At the time I did not know I was hearing sounds and music that would be history, of my family.
I of course knew about Mr. Monroe. I heard that type of music all of my young life. Because I was so young, I did not appreciate how special it was at the time. I can certainly understand now just how important it was.
To say I can definitely relate so much to your piece here is an understatement. My family was old southern “high lonesome” people. Now that I am growing into that generation myself, i can appreciate the music & the stories.
My hubby is 💯 Japanese. While he was born and raised in HAWAII, he was raised in a very Japanese household. When we were first dating we each had stories to tell each other. The ways of the elders, the stories of our childhood. This piece definitely brought back memories of another time, which feels like yesterday. But it was long ago. I feel that my memories put together with his, show just how much these yesterdays were so alike. It is amazing to me just how human beings may look different and sound different, but in the end we are the same. (You didn’t hear it but I just did that high lonesome “wail”). Wabi Sabi
Thank you for this piece. It touched me so deeply.
I really like the poems, but I find the Weirdo Poetry logo anachronistic.
Another to add to your high lonesome sound is "My Buddy" by Jerry Jeff Walker and also "One Too Many Mornings" by him. Dylan wrote it but nobody can sing it like Jerry Jeff.
Summer to Fall, the
Oscillating Universe
Leads by example
My favorite by far, Jason. I will also be writing about wabi-sabi from a photographic perspective. I think you and I were buddies in a past life as this philosophy of life is what I believe in as well.
“I have found that by allowing myself to sit in sadness, I am better able to accept and hold joy. This is the paradox of the high lonesome.”
This was an amazing post, Jason, and these lines especially so! I think accepting and allowing for the multiplicity of emotions and life experiences is somehow the key to feeling both deeply. That’s not to be prescriptive or say it’s easy but there is some magic in making space.
Thank you, Jason for linking wabi-sabi and high lonesome. The closest I can think of in the Filipino psyche is the “kundiman” which is 19th /20th c music (which some folks still appreciate these days.) it was borne with the stirrings of the formation of national consciousness ushered in by 3 centuries of spanish colonization, and yet, is rooted in the colonizer’s old subculture of the troubadours. It’s a contraction of the phrase “kung hindi man” -- “if it never comes to pass” an expression of hope-no-hope duality of unrequited love. As a person, high lonesome or kundiman can also be felt even when one has a close family and partner to share life with. I find high lonesome, wabi sabi, kundiman, as a basic condition of being human. Who was it who said, “alone we are born, and alone we shall die.” Or something like that?
His timing was awful
entering at the climax of the film
Oh how I miss him now.
Recall a poet
Whose name was writ in water
As the clouds drift by
Wow. Jason this is good! The longing, the beautiful sadness in these songs... I feel like autumn sings to us in a high lonesome way about how to love life and also accept the mystery of death. Today, I'm thinking about one of my favorite wild plants-- Jack-in-the-Pulpit-- and the way it produces heavy bright red berries in its old age, reseeding itself for next spring.
Once tall but bent now.
Can't hold this fruit forever.
Life comes 'round again.