I don't do "sick" well. Lord knows I have had enough practice in my lifetime, but somehow I've never really mastered the art of recovering from illness in an artful manner. I always wanted to be the sort who could lie about and gracefully sip from fragile teacups while those who love me look on with concern. Yeah, never happened anywhere but in a novel from the likes of Austen or Alcott and my life has never looked like anything from one of their books.
Instead, I tend to curl up wherever I feel least uncomfortable and pray a stereo or computer is nearby so I can listen to music. Some artists, certain songs...they're as healing as gallon of cough syrup with codeine and Tylenol back.
One of my recent hazy loops featured J.J. Grey & Mofro, who I'd caught last year at the Safeway Waterfront Blues Festival in Portland, OR. I'd fall asleep and visions of the band would flit about, mixed in with childhood memories when it came to one of my favorite tunes, "Fireflies."
So strange to have the adult me world mixing with the child me world, even if only in my dreams. And still, I don't mind too much when I awake feeling a bit better than I did when I fell asleep (although sometimes the confusion is occasionally overwhelming). "Lochloosa" takes me somewhere both versions of me can just...be. I like it. (And for those of you paying attention at home, that blonde in the brown shirt on the photo ramp around 2:21 would be me).
At the end of the day, I'm just glad I have a space in this world where I can sink into the music and let my worries fly away. Sick or well, music is my escape and it's good to know it's always there for me.