Raquel Pinderhughes
Samora: Three reactions while listening to Process
Listening to this song makes me think about the connection Samora has with his grandfather because Samora lived with him and wrote this song soon after he passed to the other side. I can see them/feel them in the apartment, together but apart. My father is at the dining room table hoping Samora will come out to keep him company but Samora stays in his room with the demons and the pain. I know that my father understood Samora better than anyone else in our family did because he didn’t worry about him the way the rest of us did. He understood that it’s a process while the rest of us had no clue -- until Samora wrote this song; showing us that art is not only a balm for our soul, it’s a window into our mind.
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The woodpecker taps on my head incessantly.
The parrot repeats “I’m an imposter”.
The moon reveals my ugly face.
The snake wraps itself around my intestines.
Under the covers, out of the covers, under the covers, out of the covers.
Reading the book, not reading the book, reading the book, not reading the book.
Eating the food, not tasting the food, eating the food, not eating the food.
Answer the phone, don’t answer the phone; turn off the phone, turn on the phone.
Stop calling, stop bothering, stop intruding, stop asking, stop asking, stop asking!!!
Swat the fly, swat the fly.
I’m too exhausted to swat the fly; I have to swat the fly.
Swat the fly; I’m too exhausted to swat the damn fly.
2am phone calls, actually it’s 5am here and I‘m working, just finishing up an important project; it’s going goooood, soooo gooood. I’m good; I’m good.
Talk to you soon.
The woodpecker is tapping on my head.
The parrot is repeating itself.
The moon is revealing my face.
The snake is wrapping itself around my intestines; unwrapping itself around my intestines, wrapping itself around my intestines; unwrapping itself around my intestines, wrapping itself; unwrapping itself, wrapping itself, unwrapping myself, wrapping itself, unwrapping myself.
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Listening to this song makes me think about how even when we think we know someone intimately we are often unaware of the struggles they are going through because they reveal, and we see, what’s on the surface but not what’s underneath. We humans are so skilled at hiding our pain. It’s not just shame and fear that drives us; so often we don’t reveal our pain to protect others or because we know the reaction we will get when we expose ourselves will throw us over the edge.
Mami
Listening to this song makes me think about the connection Samora has with his grandfather because Samora lived with him and wrote this song soon after he passed to the other side. I can see them/feel them in the apartment, together but apart. My father is at the dining room table hoping Samora will come out to keep him company but Samora stays in his room with the demons and the pain. I know that my father understood Samora better than anyone else in our family did because he didn’t worry about him the way the rest of us did. He understood that it’s a process while the rest of us had no clue -- until Samora wrote this song; showing us that art is not only a balm for our soul, it’s a window into our mind.
-------------
The woodpecker taps on my head incessantly.
The parrot repeats “I’m an imposter”.
The moon reveals my ugly face.
The snake wraps itself around my intestines.
Under the covers, out of the covers, under the covers, out of the covers.
Reading the book, not reading the book, reading the book, not reading the book.
Eating the food, not tasting the food, eating the food, not eating the food.
Answer the phone, don’t answer the phone; turn off the phone, turn on the phone.
Stop calling, stop bothering, stop intruding, stop asking, stop asking, stop asking!!!
Swat the fly, swat the fly.
I’m too exhausted to swat the fly; I have to swat the fly.
Swat the fly; I’m too exhausted to swat the damn fly.
2am phone calls, actually it’s 5am here and I‘m working, just finishing up an important project; it’s going goooood, soooo gooood. I’m good; I’m good.
Talk to you soon.
The woodpecker is tapping on my head.
The parrot is repeating itself.
The moon is revealing my face.
The snake is wrapping itself around my intestines; unwrapping itself around my intestines, wrapping itself around my intestines; unwrapping itself around my intestines, wrapping itself; unwrapping itself, wrapping itself, unwrapping myself, wrapping itself, unwrapping myself.
------------
Listening to this song makes me think about how even when we think we know someone intimately we are often unaware of the struggles they are going through because they reveal, and we see, what’s on the surface but not what’s underneath. We humans are so skilled at hiding our pain. It’s not just shame and fear that drives us; so often we don’t reveal our pain to protect others or because we know the reaction we will get when we expose ourselves will throw us over the edge.
Mami