I can only write about I and me in this because this is only my perception of what I witnessed.
So forgive me if this comes from a selfish place but I only know the self. I can empathise and relate but only due to my own experiences
Nick Cave is an old friend. He's been with me since I was 15 or 16 years old. He is dear friend. A best friend. We have never met. Never had a conversation.
Well. That's a slight lie. On the 27th August 1999 in Edinburgh in the gardens on Princess Street as me and a handful of other strays sat and watched the sound check for his outdoor show that evening, he addressed us and asked if we would prefer to sit or stand for the show as maybe we would like to dance. It was shortly after the release of Boatmans Call. It was a solo show. I stuttered and stumbled and had no words. Its still one of the few moments where I couldn't find any to say. Eventually I said sit. I wanted to feel all of the music. It was my 18th birthday. I had travelled alone to Edinburgh from Manchester to see this man play one of my favourite albums. I didn't know anyone there and I hadn't even arranged a place to stay. It didn't matter. And it was one of the most wonderful and magical nights of my life.
Not just because Nick Cave asked me if the audience should sit or stand.
But that night when he played the tears fell as the music wrapped me up and took me to places I cannot describe.
And when i was pregnant with Vincent a couple of years later I would play Into My Arms to the infant that I carried.
Our friendship continued as each lead our lives and things evolved and changed for us both, Cave seemingly finding a calm he had not had before. His music grew up and he moved from anger to a more melancholic content and dry humour at the ridiculousness of life and love. And I was happy to see that. This man of absolute creativity that had inspired my work and my life and everything in it deserved to feel the good things. It was good. It was different and I appreciated it though the earlier music he made still was the go to that I most often sought.
And then last year I read the news that Arthur Cave had died.
The greatest horror to lose your child made real. And there were no words. What do you say to your best friend when the only thing you share is music when you would not have the right words to say to your best friend made flesh that you see and laugh with and hug and cry with.
And so I did not say anything. I expressed my sadness on facebook. But they are words and they don't mean much. I can't do anything and so I continue on my own path and occasionally the event crosses my mind and I feel sadness and pity that someone I care about has had this awful transcendant loss that words cannot express.
So it goes and life goes on and I focus on my own life and my own child who is just a year younger than Arthur but has his own battles to face and I focus on keeping him safe and well, all to aware that should the worst happen that I too would be left with no way to explain or deal with this.
And then I hear that my friend had been able to create and I am pleased because I know that it is important to work and to make and to move because if not the world and it's awfulness would consume you and this year had already seen great loss of other friends that people had not met but loved.
I look forward to seeing what will emerge and I get the opportunity to see him speak and sing and I am hopeful because I want there to be hope and glimmers of joy and healing. Because this is my friend and I do not wish pain of this enormity to hurt anymore.
The crowd hushes and the light and the dark on the screen play and there is dry humour and the movements of a family trying to function as normal even if normality is so far away it could be another universe
I see my friend. I see his wife and his child and his friends and the pain is immeasurable. I watch them do this because they need to do something and they don't know what that something is and is it right? Is there a right? What do you do?
So many questions and no answers and still no words that can explain the void that is there. There is something, there is someone missing. It cannot be found. It is lost. There is permanence and you so desperately want to comfort these humans that are empty and trying to fill the emptiness with something. But they know it is impossible and they speak with frankness and desolate acceptance and your heart breaks and you cannot stop the tears from falling and part of you wants to get up and run home and hold your son close and part of you knows you must stay in solidarity because this is an attempt to ease the uneaseable.
And it ends and you hurt. You hurt so much to see such awfulness. You empathise but you understand its not the same. There are no words. There are no platitudes. There is just what there is. And you know that your friend has changed. Is a different person now.
And you know that no one can fix this. And that is why you weep for your old friend that you have never met. Because all those times he helped to ease your pain and you cannot do the same in return.
I went straight home and I hugged my son. My son laughed at me and let me hug him until he decided no more. And he knows that I love him and I know that he loves me and I cannot comprehend the enormity of him not being there.
What life is there without the one you love the most.
And I still feel heavy in my heart this morning .
And my friend feels heavier still
