I found Abbey Lincoln's 'A Turtle's Dream' years ago during a periodic library foraging, in a wooden shelf filled with the compact discs of artists who would soon expand my horizons far beyond the 'mainstream programming' I'd grown accustomed to.
Her disc was a musical masterpiece, transporting me to a world of aquatic ethera, heavy with mood, and pregnant with lyrics both buoyant with whimsy and steady in wisdom. The disc *stayed* on repeat. I was deeply won.
Later I would acquire more of her sonic gems, which were always gates into worlds of depth, and meaning. I would marvel at her mastery of storytelling. She was a unique mythspheric force, and one who will be remembered fondly not only for her magiking of the ether, but also for her burning of the glamour gown in favor of spiriting the civil rights movement alongside Max Roach.
Hearing of her death upon waking today, took my breath for a moment. Her passing is a loss. I have to remind myself that she will live on in cherished works.
She will be deeply missed.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
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