I read Rosanne Cash’s wonderful memoir, Composed, given to me by a friend. Rosanne’s life is at once lonely and sad and joyful and creative… I relate to so much of it. Well, except for having the mega-star father, fortune, and fame, of course. Rosanne’s writing delighted me ~ she skips around in time, which some may object to, but I found charming.
I have abandoned my reliance on the external facts to support an individual truth, and everyone is entitled to his or her own. [pg. 3]
That was her unapologetic intro, and it was awesome. Don’t we all do this really? Our fundamental truths are subjective.
A lonely road is a bodyguard. [pg. 60]
Rosanne wrote that at age 12 (so amazing!) and kept returning to this theme in her writing and her life. She expresses her thoughts about creativity, music, family, love, parenting (both sides), brain surgery, and ultimately death in such an accessible style. I felt so close to her through her words that I ordered her book of short stories, along with a CD.
Loss is the great unifier, the terrible club to which we all eventually belong. [pg. 206]