My beloved Pomeranian companion of the past ten years died suddenly a little over two months ago and I have yet to make heads or tails of the whole thing. Truthfully, I’ve been carrying his cremated body around in a tiny tin box ever since, sleeping with him next to me at night, and am so far having a really hard time letting him go.
During the first few weeks after his death I was in a state of sheer panic around his absence. For over a decade, silence in the house meant little dude was up to some sort of mischief or that he was in trouble, so to be suddenly surrounded by this new, impenetrable quiet has been unsettling. I found myself calling for him in the night, looking for him all over the house in the morning, and waiting to hear the pitter-patter of his paws on the hardwood floor as I opened the front door or walked to the kitchen, but he is gone.
As it turns out, I had a great deal of purpose wrapped up in taking care of this tiny creature, and I’m finding that in many ways I was dependent on the love I received from him in return. He was the only consistent thing in my life for the past decade, and without him around everything just feels harder. I have yet to make it through a full day without some sort of tearful breakdown and was unable to control said emotional outbursts at all until very recently. It sounds crazy that an animal could make me lose my mind like this, but he was so much more than a dog to me. For many years he was my child, my family, the only reason I got out of bed in the morning, and the only reason I came home at night…so to call him my “pet” minimizes the depth of our relationship.
A few weeks back while I was talking to a close friend about my inability to let Dutch go, he challenged me that maybe it was feeling too hard to do because I wasn’t actually supposed to be doing it. He suggested that, instead of working so hard to let him go, I should learn to hold onto Dutch in new ways. His body is gone, that much is certain. All that’s left is this box of ashes…which isn’t all that comforting when I stop and think about it.
So, I took his advice. I began to look for Dutch again, minus the feeling of panic those initial searches held after he passed. I started to focus on all the ways he is still here with me instead of mourning all the ways he is not, and suddenly he was Read the rest of this entry »
My new video, “Turn Me Out“, made its exclusive world premier over at Portland Monthly Magazine today! Watch it HERE first. They interviewed me for the piece as well, which you can read while you are there (or via the transcript below). We chatted about the new record (“Tramp Stamps and Birthmarks”, due out Tuesday, December 4th), my relationship adventure, and the “Turn Me Out” video itself.
World Premiere: Logan Lynn’s New Music Video, “Turn Me Out” – The electro-pop darling “just want[s] your love”
Local electro-pop (emotronic?) musician Logan Lynn has been on a two-year do-gooder music hiatus while he manned public relations and innovations for the Q Center (among other things, using his connections to bring in national musicians for concert series). But that’s not to say he hasn’t been busy behind studio doors. He released the catchy, dirty, dancefloor single “Turn Me Out” in June, and Culturephile’s delighted to post the world premiere of the video (that’s right: we got it before MTV or Logo)—a rather atmospheric ode to the joyous imprisonment that is love.
The single is from his upcoming album called Tramp Stamps and Birthmarks, slated for a 12/4 release. It’s a love letter of sorts to his fellow. We had a short chat with Logan about the song, the relationship, the record, and writing about happy material, below the video.
We should mention for our more delicate listeners that the lyrics are a little more than just obliquely sexual.
PoMo: Where did the inspiration for the song and video come from? It seems a paradoxical celebration of the imprisonment of love.
My grandfather is turning 100 years old next month, which completely blows my mind. I’m flying to South Dakota with my partner to do strange Americana activities at Mt. Rushmore and then celebrate his century of life with everyone on my mother’s side of the family. It’s going to be a very special time, and I am really looking forward to it. I wish my aunt could be there with us, but this year has brought with it big heartaches, as well, and she is no longer here. It’s devastating to think about my grandpa having to endure losing his daughter so late in his life, but he is a very wise old man, and he has handled her passing better than any of the rest of us.
I suppose that sort of deep understanding about death is to be expected of a person who has lived 100 years. He has already said goodbye to his grandparents, his parents, his cousins, his siblings, all his friends, and his wife. He is at peace with having loved and lost, and he seems to be fine with his own mortality. Clearly, this man knows something about life that I have yet to learn. Read the rest of this entry »