Wednesday, May 6, 2015

fan mail

Dear Julie Doiron,
Every time I see you, I want to write you a letter about all the times I remember you. Once I even did, when you made some comment at a concert that fans don't write real letters anymore. But I couldn't track down an address for you and by the time your agent sent it to me, the letter I had written had been recycled.

I remember you when I lived in Montreal and I saw you for the first time at the Salla Rosa. Anna Sprague brought me- do you remember her from Sackville? Anyway it was winter and you were very pregnant with Rose, playing that giant guitar on top of your belly and wearing knee socks. I think I bought two albums that night. After that sometimes I would see you at co-op la Masion Vert. I used to go there often.

I remember you in Paris while I was there with this marionette troupe. I remember how happy I felt to pick up a colour flyer at some cafe and see your name on it. You played the day of my birthday, but that day I had been in the south, just outside of Toulouse at this artist commune called Terre Blanque.

I remember you in Moncton. I was a Katimavick project leader living with 11 teenagers on Railway ave just off Church street. In my memory it was winter that whole year. I saw you every time you came to town which felt like often. Those were also the touring days of an early Jill Barber and my high school friends in Wintersleep. My favorite memories of that year were walking down Church to the Paramount Lounge on Main. I was there that night you played with Rick. You asked me to take a picture of you and your parents just outside of the washroom. After I took the picture I asked you to play Wintermitts and you did and told stories of Villa Maria and NDG, both of which I was missing terribly.

I remember you in New York. When I came back you played Ottawa at the Rainbow room on my birthday. You had cut your hair short and I brought you some leftover birthday cake but it had some ingredient and you couldn't eat it. I had just come back from New York for the second time. The first had been a few weeks prior where I met this woman at a dyke bar in the West village, and finally realized that I was gay. I returned to visit her, but it didn't work out, so I ended up taking the first bus out of central station in the morning. Tonight is no night always reminds me of that sad and strange very early morning bus ride. I always request it but I call it this bus but you always know what I'm talking about.

I remember you in London. I dated HB long distance for over a year. and neighbours didn't understand. and the hours would never match. and when it all ended and I flew home on New Years day and I was alone in the cold house, oh these walls. I would close my eyes to each night, sending my hopes on that flight.

I remember you in Toronto last spring when I picked up the new LP somewhere on Queen street. I made a video as I was lying in bed with maybesomeday at the Gladstone hotel, looking at the shadows of the cars going by on the ceiling. I used one of those happy songs about being glad to be alive. In those days I was hoping for the best when the breaks got wet. I was a tailor, and a woodstove, and a fire keeping it warm all night.
and I didn't mind, taking my time.

but I probably should have.
Minded. The taking of my time.

I remember you in Kingston the night of my first solo exhibition. I was thinking about my huge family that seems to span the universe and you know, yer kids love you more, than you know. and they love you just the same.

I remember you in Ottawa last night and you sang Blue when I asked for it. You said it was hard on a personal level - but played it anyway. I asked because I'm taking a heart vacation. Focusing on me and heal from what feels like a life long haul of heartache. That song makes me feel strong. It makes me feel in control of my heart. Reminds me that I can decide and I am better off on my own. Reminds me that the lonely of choosing to be alone is way better then the lonely of heartache. For such a sad song, it actually makes me really happy.


and I'm not some pre-teen groupie. I feel old and I work and I get by. In the last few years I write it all out in this blog under an alias and some people say I make heartache beautiful.
and I say I learned from the best.

Sincerely,

The fan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Julie Doiron driving fast on loose gravel mix

3 comments:

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Angel charls said...

Fan mail is mail sent to a public figure, especially a celebrity, by their admirers or "fans". In return for a fan's support and admiration, public figures may send an autographed poster, photo, reply letter or note thanking their fans for their encouragement, gifts, and support. Fan mail sent to public figures can be through postal mail, email, social media, and other platforms that allow fans and users to communicate with their favorite public figures.
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