Eulogy For Greg Hale Jones Yes Greg I know too well the order of this song and got the tempo down by heart. First the shock and then with sleepless nights, the first wave of breathless grief and the anger and depthless fatigue. Followed by dissonant outbursts of grotesque hilarity and fragments of memories followed then by the utter silence. This chorus repeats, Adagio, and the dance section begins, a vast and massive spiral with the arms of the Milky Way infinite in scale and surrounded by true darkness. The pain is so acute and specific that it almost goes unnoticed when the whole song cycle starts to contract towards the center spinning and repeating again in smaller pulses of shock, grief and anger and then in prayer as it closes in on itself. And it becomes so close so personal, so particular, so individual that it is profoundly finite in nearness. That because it is so infinite in mass and so individual in scale the very light of a galaxy is reduced to a travel spot that finds us all, each of us, at the center of our own stage. Each of us in loss. Each of us embracing life, and singing and dancing to this now greatly diminished orchestra and this more vacant stage. With that Greg has left the stage. He did not wait for the second act he did not wait for the curtain and he took no encore. For my part I would gather up the roses he cherished and give them back to those who loved him one at a time. Stuart Cudlitz NYC September 2004 Songs And Poems Index

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