Once Upon A Time…

Some eccentric little oddball las decided to write a blog every day for a year.

The idea was born of a sojourn she made one night from Darlinghurst to Surry Hills, the day of Michael Jacksons death.

As she walked she heard big, bold anthems spewing out of bars and restaurants and terrace houses all along the way side…

Michael Jackson was everywhere.

Plus he was dead.

Which got her thinking about music and fame and love and life and how we only ever seem to really celebrate the things we’ve lost.

She didn’t much care to be some sad sap who found herself locked in her flat in the not too distant future, celebrating Leonard Cohen’s body of work, as a result of his death.

So she set about learning all of it while he was still alive.

Out of respect.

And out of intrigue.

She wrote everyday.

Despite her high-stress job, despite her abusive lover and the court case that followed, despite her unreliable internet connection, and despite her abject desire to sometimes throw it all in…

She wrote and wrote and wrote.

Then one day, some four months in to her daily project she met a man online.

A man who’d been reading her blog.

A man who knew a few of her close friends.

A man on the other side of the world.

They got to chatting, this girl and this guy.

Hours and hours and hours of the stuff.

Followed by expensive phone calls and emails and the exchanging of songs and books and so much fucking honesty.

Remarkable, really.

They fell in love in the space of an evening.

That was 20 days ago.

And the rest, as they say… is history.

Thanks Leonard.

x.

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Comments
3 Responses to “Once Upon A Time…”
  1. Papa says:

    Need to collaborate on a recording of that…good song.
    Papa

  2. Cool. Sure. Anytime. Don’t have a recorded version of the whistling verse yet either… Keen to get back in to the studio actually. Most keen in deed.

  3. Dad, I think it’s kinda odd that you call yourself
    ‘Papa’ on my blog. Ne?

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