January 13 - The Last Day Of Jimi Hendix's Life

A gentle song to start with, this begins in what the cruel might call banality but which I think of as melancholy comfort. The small moments in a majestic life before it knows it's over.

Like (let's face it) most people listening to Hendrix, I came to him after the fact, and at that point you feel like you know the whole story. You don't. Nobody does. He definitely didn't. But the thing about the whole story is that most of it is details, and the thing about details is that they're holographic.

The small things Jimi Hendrix may or may not have done on his last day are neither pathetic nor bathetic, they don't resonate the tragedy of his overdone but nor do they give contrast to it by shining with unexpected joy. They are normal and quiet, reassuring nothings that come every day including the days where other things are way more important.

Sometimes remembrance needs to be gentle.