Both Sides Now

It’s been far too long since I’ve put my thoughts down first thing of the day. I believe in the horrible work of showing up, as if you are going to set fence posts for an entire day and it be your sole accomplished task. It’s more difficult for me to let loose on this machine as compared to my grandad’s ox. I have quicker edits at my fingertips, style options, and the entire universe one tab away.

I’m currently haunted, as I’m sure many are, by Joni Mitchel’s recent Grammy performance of “Both Sides Now.” There is not much more one can add thought-wise to such a tender and wise work. What strikes me most, as I think about her recent performance at age 80 contrasted with the young Joni that wrote the song at age 21, is how rare it is to witness, in art, pieces that not only remain true to the artist, but, ones that deepen in meaning. It is hard enough to find creators that would look back on their 21 year old creations and say “yeah, I still like that one,” “this is still fun for me to sing,” “I’m glad I took that photo,” and so forth. I feel it takes a tremendous amount of heft to carry the younglings and allow them to be a part of the whole context of a creator. It is unnatural. I also think as artists grow they learn, develop higher techniques, display more trust in choices made, discover thinner shades and nuances of their voice, and most inescapably of all: change. Therefore, the sum of all this is a trail network of rabbit holes, side quests, switchbacks, and pit stops leading up to the foot of the boot and the artist determining which way is next. Is it a next work? is it their greatest work? the opus? or is it a hiatus which pauses the forging forward of the trail entirely? Thankfully, that is left for the artist to figure out and not us.

Imagine if on a six mile hike you encounter your campground at .2 miles, but the permit for camping there is at mile 6. The permission to stay there is miles ahead of you, yet, you have arrived. I think pieces that artists hold proudly when looking back saying “I needed that switchback there” or “this isn’t where I am now but I still cherish that left in the road” are the gems—very special and worthy of celebration. But, the works that mature and develop or, dare I say, become wholly completed alongside the artist, in front of the artist; those are the miracles.

How can a painting increase in artistry? Especially if the paint is already dry? Perhaps a reframe would allow different emphases, or even more startling, the painting was a prediction of the future. I personally think barren is the list of factors that could allow the said strengthening of artistic value. Which is why, if you haven’t yet, witness the miracle of Joni Mitchell from both sides…

80 years old:

21 years old:

*Disclaimer: I believe Joni was a older than 21 when this take was recorded for her LP “Clouds.” That being said, the song was penned at age 21.