By the time I was 19 I had a beautiful baby girl, buried both of my parents, I was raising my little brother and had been married and divorced. I had fallen in with a wonderful women named Gina who had offered to do my portrait in chalk.
She asked me to pose "straight," something I was loath to do for more than a few hours. She said that loaded people gimaced oddly making it hard to capture their true appearance. Gina turned on her record player ( an odd contraption that played large vinyl discs at varying speeds) and I listened to Joni for hours. Time actually stood still and "For the Roses" took me to places in my heart and soul that I hadn't visited in many years. I was surprised and stunned, totally breathless and wanting more. "Ladies of the Canyon" and then "Blue" but always "For the Roses" over and over for weeks. I felt like I had found the perfect score to my deep grief. I have often felt that if I met Joni today I would weep first for her tenderness at underscoring my pain then dance for joy at her wisdom for healing my sorrow. I am reluctant to join into the jargon et al for I cannot, conscientiously, abbreviate what has touched my body, mind and soul. I've seen Joni in concert, once. Anaheim convention center, Court and Spark era. She wore red chiffon. I will never forget how life was then, especially that night. Joni Mitchell is the number one song writer, recording artist and performer of my heart and soul. My children (all women, 15, 17 and 32) ask me to tell them who my contemporary favorites are. I always recite Joni Mitchell as number one. They are exploring new music techniques with the aid of computers and various download processes. They have a wide variety of choices to view and review new artists. When I was young you either got in the car and drove to the concert or hitch hiked. You either stood in line and bought a ticket in advance or sneaked in any way you could. My children have every affordable way to make and listen to music, and they do it all. I'd like to thank Joni Mitchell for allowing me to let my children explore their souls the way she allowed me, through beauty, tenderness and spirit-filled love. Her artistry is a tribute to life. I haven't posted since September. I am building a cabin in the woods below Yosemite and creating my own artist's haven. In the last year I have seen my children bury their father, watched my soulmate painfully accept his family's decision to disown him, and I am now moving our family home. I hope to keep posting when I have the opportunity. Keep it real. Love and Peace, Barbara Murray-Hirahara
