So I just have to emerge from my larval state to say something. However caractérielle she may be in public performances, that Chan Marshall aka Cat Power is something of a genius. I’ve been playing this little, well actually really very, very long song of hers almost in a loop since I landed an ipod around Christmas and ended up putting “Willie Deadwilder” on it for company here in this luxury hotel. (You can hear the first several bars of it here, before it goes on in all its brilliantly minimal variations for the rest of the song). It was shortly after the late afternoon breakfast I ordered from room service that I had this revelation. I wasn’t hoping for too much from this long song: it’s being sold as a “bonus” to a DVD of Chan “Singing the Trees” that so far hasn’t done much besides put me to sleep while I was suffering from jet lag. But then as I was chewing on a scone, I heard the lyric that caught my ear and allowed me to ease into the whole thing. “This,” sings Chan somewhere around 13 minutes and 30 seconds, “is a four hour song/ And it will go on and on/ A moment in time and traveling on/ Even if it is too long/ I don’t care/ I love to share/ I love to sing along/ I know you do, too/ Feelin’ the same way/ So come along/ And sing your song/ It’s all that you have to do.” So Chan wants us to fade in and out with her, and hopes that we’ll sing our own songs, and she thinks that this is all we have to do. It’s all that’s there for us to do, and it’s the only thing we have to do – I love that little slide around what “you have to do.” And it occurred to me that nestled in this “four hour song” is a thought that touches on the truth about blogging: I mean, our blogs, and I know you think that my more or less unread long-winded pages are a particularly apt instance of this, “go on and on.” And I think any of us who write them do often feel like we’re just babbling into the void. Audience response is a little hit-and-miss, we’re digging for significance in our train-train quotidien even though most days it just seems like there’s nothing much there, not the real event that we write for, just more words in relation to other words, more about me, and then I did this, and then I would have loved for you to have been there, but you weren’t, and then I did this other thing… but then there is something as we ramble out our projects that does every once in a while happen, and it’s then that we bloggers, like Chan, can conclude by singing that “We have got so much.” That line touched the Principessa, since I delivered my own thoughts about the moments when too much is just what you want. There I was, listening, no longer chewing my scone to hear Chan, with the shift of one little word – from “too” to “so” before much – hit what I was trying to get at on the nose. You keep singing, girl, and any of you other ladies and gentlemen out there feelin’ sad and blue, and you might end up able to sing that – which is, like that great and kooky singing lady said so, so much.