This is going to sound like crazy talk to some of you, but in keeping with my Celtic heritage, I believe I have a touch of extrasensory perception. I’m no Madame Leota (hell, I’m not even Miss Cleo) but both my mother and I have these moments when, for lack of a better term, we get brief admittance to the theme park that is the other side (or sides) of this mostly unknown universe.
But never with anything approaching regularity or precision, and I couldn’t direct it if I tried. That would be too useful! Instead it’ll be something totally innocuous, like when I recently thought about a beloved old book for the first time in decades, only to be inundated with references to it, and a current reworking, practically non-stop for the remainder of the week.
Sometimes it’s not so innocuous, like the morning in high school when my grandfather passed away. I woke up that day bolt upright in bed, screaming my head off, torn out of a dream in which my boyfriend had died. I found out later that my grandfather had passed right about the time my mom was rushing into my room while I thrashed around and clawed at my blankets. This is clearly something passed down from my mother herself, who has, on more than a few occasions, dreamed of the death of a friend or relative, only to find out later on that that person or someone close to them is actually quite ill or experiencing some other downturn of fortune. It’s a highly imprecise sense. No one would ever confuse it with prophecy – it’s many levels removed from that, but it does live in the same neighbourhood.
Two weeks ago I dug this older polish, Deborah Lippmann’s Let’s Go Crazy, out of my collection. I hadn’t worn it in about two years, and with my nails in prime swatching shape, I thought I’d take a run at its pretty purple glitteriness. Then I got caught up with other things, and put goin’ Crazy on the back burner for a bit.
I woke up this morning with the urge to watch a Prince video, specifically the blistering guitar solo he delivers in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame group performance of While My Guitar Gently Weeps. Since his passing two weeks ago, I haven’t sought out any of his material or really made note of his death other than to mourn the loss of an amazing performer and creative phenom. His Princeliness was just never quite my bag, Batman soundtrack notwithstanding (that album was my JAM when I was 12, even though it’s so weird and ALL ABOUT SEX.) But I wanted to lay eyes (and ears) on that performance myself, and I thought I’d finally take a run at Let’s Go Crazy while I did precisely that.
Mid-mani, something about both “Let’s Go Crazy” and the lush purple of this glittery jelly twigged in the back of my brain. Heading off to Google, I learned that Let’s Go Crazy is indeed a polish inspired by the 1984 Prince song of the same name. I had had no clue as to the connection; couldn’t actually remember the name of this polish at all. I then looked back through my polish planner (just my general day planner, but I jot down lots of stuff about my nail art activities as well) and noted that I initially pulled out Let’s Go Crazy on April 21st – the day of Prince’s death.
So there’s that weird, not-the-least-bit-useful, twice removed, extrasensory thing once again coming into play, this time with a polished twist. And who knew this simple mani was going to turn into such a serious discussion about quasi-prescient death? Not me! And probably not you either! So my apologies for getting all heavy on you there. 🙂