Arum lily. Photo: Su Leslie, 2014
Lilies have all sorts of layers of meaning for me. My name derives from the Hebrew word for lily; the first “grown up” painting I ever bought was of arum lilies against an azure sky, and the Big T brings me arum lilies from his parents’ garden whenever he finds them. And of course, lilies are associated with death.
I took this photo a few months ago while out walking and although I can’t quite put my finger on why; it’s an image I truly love. If I were to create a mix album of songs to be played at my funeral, I’d have this image as the album cover — or at least the opening shot of the inevitable PowerPoint slide show.
The album would be called Belated Apologies and Things I Wanted to Say But Was Worried About Sounding Like a Dick.
The track list in order:
Ryuichi Sakamoto, Energy Flow. I could probably have chosen any piece by Sakamoto; his music has enriched the soundtrack to much of my adult life.
Buddy Holly, Everyday. Such an optimistic song, and incredibly sad to think that Holly died aged only 22.
Janis Ian, Fly too High. A song that I hope will say ‘I loved you’ to someone I hurt.
Billy Bragg, The Man in the Iron Mask. Ditto; same sentiment, different person.
Slade, Everyday. I was never into glam-rock, but I do love a good ballad.
Dexy’s Midnight Runners, Come on Eileen. If people have sat through a eulogy, it’s time to get up and dance. If Come on Eileen can’t get them pogo-ing in the aisles, then I’d have to say the mourners must be more dead than me.
Bic Runga, Honest Goodbyes. Because one dance is never enough, and this lovely song in 3/4 time is perfect for my mourners to reach out to and hold someone.
Henry Purcell, Dido’s Lament (sung by Jessye Norman). I really relate to this; and somehow it makes me think of many of my female ancestors.
Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, Falling Slowly. A beautiful love song from a beautiful film. A song for the Big T.
W Schwandt/F Andree/Gus Khan, Dream a Little Dream. Recorded by Terry Hall and Salad for Help, the War Child album of 1995. This is for my son; it was the lullaby of his early babyhood and he still sings along with me when we hear it on the radio.
This post was written for the Daily Post Photo Challenge.