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Patti Smith

I want to wrap my arms around this post and fall asleep curled around the words. Thank you to pleasekillme.com for posting it, and for celebrating one of the most influential female artists of our century.

patti smith
Patti Smith — if only I could ingest you, smear your wisdom onto my skin and watch it penetrate.

When I lived in Connecticut, I met a long-haired boy named David who lived in New York City. I can’t remember his last name, but he was tall and had a nice smile. He lived in the most incredible one-bedroom apartment on Broadway, but it he wasn’t the real owner, He was subletting from an artist, a girl who was living abroad in Italy.

The apartment had a large bedroom, a small kitchenette, and a tiny office with a library. One night when I was visiting him, I explored the books on the shelves and found a novel titled Babel by Patti Smith. It was a signed edition, in perfect condition. I was twenty-two years old, and I had never heard of Patti Smith before. It was 1991, and I had the whole world in front of me.

David let me take the book home, even though it didn’t belong to him. I still have it, 22 years later.

“Beneath the Southern Cross” is one of my favorite songs from her many, many to choose from. Smith wrote “Beneath the Southern Cross” with Jeff Buckley and released it as a part of her 1996 masterpiece “Gone Again”. There are many versions of this song on utube; I prefer this one because of the simplicity and because Lenny is in it.

All hail the Godmother of Punk.

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