I am no longer sure whom I would rather write a letter… to you or Cat Power? To you whom I haven’t known for a long time? How could I write to her at all? To her former her which I could hardly relate to her today’s her. But that’s the way it should be, my current myself hardly remembers my former me.
How would that look at all?
Like the poems I wrote long ago and I don’t remember how. Like a cup of necessary coffee that we have drunk and we don’t remember we have… You made me love Cat Power, I discovered her to you, Chan Marschall connects us against her will. Chan has become a chain. As if she had not had enough of herself, her dead past and everything that is not her song, that is not the Silvertone guitar which she had bought when she was sixteen and which lied for two years in the corner of her room before she took it in her hands and taught herself to play.
You, Chan and I have not been able to explain anything for a long time. We have travelled with Cave’s album ‘No More Shall We Part’. It has to mean something, these are the signs of unchangeable past. The two of you lived New York, I dreamt it. New York, New York – sometimes I feel as if I am never going to fall asleep again. And then everything loses having meaning, and it becomes covered with the thin membrane of peace. New York, New York – I will try to write her a letter anyway.
the art is inside
