by Joan Baez
July 22, 2024
I used to think the alternative to black and white
must be gray. To avoid living a dull life,
I dressed in black and white,
I thought in black and white—
not just good or bad, mind you,
but perfect or damned
gifted or worthless
ethereal or demonic
emblazoned or cast out.
I scoffed at anything average
and avoided middle ground—
you know, The Gray Area.
As a result, I let slip most of my life.
I was chronically anxious, insomniac,
promiscuous, multiphobic, depressed,
hypervigilant, and, luckily, immensely talented.
I had antennae that could turn corners ahead of me,
protect me from the mortal danger of, say,
eating dinner in a restaurant
or making a new friend—
you know, The Gray Area.
When I was half a century old, I tore off the antennae
and turned my life over
to a power greater than myself—
which by that point could have been
a toothpick.
I pitched myself into a sea of memories
and headed blindly like a hoodwinked shark
for the marrow of the inner core me;
I pictured pustules of venom but
my therapist suggested it might be diamonds.
For months, I thrashed about,
recording dreams, grasping for clues,
fighting for my life and the life of my son.
When I came up for air from my flailing,
I began to see shards of color.
Slowly, I began to see my life was
sanctified, matchless,
and I would trade it for no other.
I should not have been shocked to find that
a diamond was in fact the core of me.
I continued to scrape off tenacious parasites.
I discovered that sorrow is an ocean,
fury is blue, pain is my companion,
but love had not been smashed to bits
so badly as to not be mendable,
like a gypsy violin
crushed beneath a Nazi boot.
I needed patience and an artisan.
My therapists became my artisans.
People around me
unearthed the gems I had been promised
and held my heart
in their cradling hands
as I split up into a hundred pieces,
a hundred bright souls
sorting out their places in a dazzling necklace
taking in and reflecting sunlight,
working to mend me,
to help me survive my deliverance
and transcend my survival.
Joan Baez is a dynamic force of nature whose commitment to music and social activism has earned global recognition, ranging from induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame to the Ambassador of Conscience Award, Amnesty International’s highest honor. Retired from active performing since 2019, Baez appeared in the 2023 documentary Joan Baez: I Am a Noise, which premiered at the 73rd Berlin International Film Festival, and that same year published the acclaimed book of drawings Am I Pretty When I Fly?
Photo by Ramona Rosales
From When You See My Mother, Ask Her to Dance. Published by Godine