Amy Winehouse on the precipice wings unable to spread!

I was uncomfortable reaching for the bottle of wine with Richard Starkey (Ringo Starr) sitting next to me at dinner in Los Angles. Richard sensing my discomfort nodded his approval. “Richard, what kind of drugs did you guys do?” I asked, “we did fucking everything”, Richard also confessed that he was grateful to have been given a new lease on life and is amazed that he was still alive and what a blessing to see his children grow up. Similarly when dining with David Bowie at what is now AGO in Los Angles, David commented to one of my questions and said “Those years Tim are just a blur!”. Many people battle demons, and that oh so negative of a term addiction. Some like Ringo, Bowie, Manzarek whom I have known win the battle and live to experience a tear from the eye, a flutter of the heart, create and are reborn. Some I have known equally talented can’t win, and loose it all.
Amy Winehouse her voice captivated me, I had written lyric for her in mind to record if she could only recover, I marvel at the beauty of the human voice that can touch a heart, and Amy Winehouse had a voice that could do just that. In life Amy Winehouse lived in silence. Everyone could see a talent wasting before one’s eyes, but what was Amy going through. Did Amy Winehouse see the silence as infinite, fathomless,terrifying, death-defying, mind blowing, a swoosh of blood through the body, like the visual effect of a Rothko painting? No! Amy Winehouse was a girl who could not find the lead in her pencil even with a Swiss Army knife. The silence to her was blur to the sense of time, where the dark swallows the light. She stood on the precipice unable to spread her wings. In death as the Italians say, “lasciare che il vento che parla é il paradiso”. May you find your paradise.

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailFacebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather