The old guy with the velvety voice

Today I bought tickets to a concert with a man, whose music I have loved dearly since I was a mere teenager.

Back then I stumbled onto the song Suzanne. I remember the velvety voice, and the wavelike rise and fall of the song, and the strange and beautiful lyrics.
Actually, it was my guitar teacher that got me hooked, just like she made me a lifelong fan of Joni Mitchell.

And since then, the man with the heavy, sad face and the jewish canadian background has been a part of my musical tapestry.

Strange words like:

I lit a thin green candle
to make you jalous of me
But the room just filled up with mosquitoes
they heard that my body was free
and then I took the dust of a long sleepless night
and I put it in your little shoe
and then I confess that I tortured the dress
that you wore for the world to look through..

entered my head and made marks there. They made the world a more beautiful and a more oddly twisted place to me. I believe they made me grow, and helped me grow up.

Leonard Cohens songs broke my heart and put it back together again.

Later in life, the man I love quoted "There aint no cure for love" to me. And still, I turn to Cohens songs for the strange consolation that hurt and loneliness can be beautiful.

And this august, in the late summer of my life, I am going to my first Cohen concert.

I might cry as I go under the spell of the awesome beauty of this old singers voice.

But it is okay.