Saturday, December 03, 2005

Windy Mountain Breakdown

No man is an island, but every good woman deserves her own mountain.

At least, I think I do. But until I find a way to get one, I'll have to suffer a while longer in Ohio.

The music I love sometimes helps to make that easier. In fact, it has really been my salvation. Nothing replaces a good cry, but when it's time to move on and get back to living, music leads the way for me. Before I finally forced myself to pick up an instrument and sing again, I left myself few options. Slam doors. Cry whenever the kids weren't looking. Leave angry messages. Scream hurtful truths. It was ugly, unproductive, unwell. Singing and playing, even in a shaky voice, has transformed everything, and all I can do is give my life over to it.

One of the best gifts I ever gave myself was a recording called "Windy Mountain" by Pete and Joan (affectionately known as Nondi) Wernick (Pete and Joan are in the center in the accompanying photo). It is a beautiful collection of just really good traditional songs, just the two of them singing, or Joan singing alone. It's all the more beautiful to me because it comes from two people I admire deeply as much for their love and respect for each other as their work. When I bought it last year, Joan kind of warned me that I might not like it because of her singing. Yet hers is the kind of voice I most admire -- powerful, deep, honest, real. There isn't a song on that recording that I don't love. I so appreciated the chance in October to tell them both how much it has meant to me.

And tonight, this one suits me. In fact, it suits me most days. When it all comes down around me, I remind myself that, one way or another, I'll get to that mountain, even if it's alone and with only with minutes to spare. The view will have been worth it, I am certain.

Windy Mountain (trad.)

(Refrain)I'd like to be upon a windy mountain
Where the treetops drape the sky
Then I would forget all my worries and my trouble
I'll just let the wind blow them by

Let me hear the leaves on the trees when they are singin'
Just a moment of relief is all care
For I've got no sorrow, no heartaches, or sadness
As long as I can see the trees this way

* Refrain

Tell my old lover in care you should see him
Just how much I love he'll never know
I've gone to rest away upon the mountain
Where the howling wind will always blow

* Refrain

Oh, friends bury me way upon the mountain
Where that old wind will always blow
For I want to rest alone on the mountain
Where the howling wind will always blow

* Refrain


At December 04, 2005 12:42 PM, Blogger Danielle said...

Hey thank you for commenting on my blog re: the homelessness and sh*t that goes on....I am checken yu out, I Have to catch up on your posts!! Hope you had a nice weekend!


At December 04, 2005 5:17 PM, Blogger Mando Mama said...

Hey, D!
Thanks for stopping by! Yeah, we have some of our own problems in Cleveland but you probably know that already. The music keeps me goin'.

Hope you're not still illin'!


At December 06, 2005 3:44 PM, Blogger Just Some Gal said...

Those words are beautiful MM!

Sometimes I feel as if the mountains are higher than my eyes can see but words like these make me focus on whats in front of me... not just what is out of my sight.



At December 07, 2005 9:59 AM, Blogger honkeie2 said...

I wish I knew how to play an instrument lol. I tried the violin, piano and even the guitar. But I couldnt keep a beat, my rythm was REALLY bad lol

At December 07, 2005 3:46 PM, Blogger Miladysa said...

Beautiful words!

I love the introduction to your blog :)

At December 07, 2005 7:12 PM, Blogger Mando Mama said...

Hello everyone! Thanks for stopping by!

R, I like the way you put focusing on the immediate--but I know you can still "see the forest for the trees". Otherwise you wouldn't be working as hard as I know you are to change your situation, you amazing thing.

Honk, I'm sure you just haven't found the right instrument for your latent musician.

Miladysa, nice to see you! Thanks for the compliments. Everyone knows that most of the old time mountain music songs are distilled ballads frmo the UK "across the pond" -- the only other place I would feel at home!


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