Joni Mitchell, LIVE 2022, Newport Folk Festival

It has been a long time since I posted on this blog. Ironically, a blog about Ireland and about my journey of buying a house on Loop Head in County Clare, pretty much ended once I moved here! (It’s been so long in fact, that I don’t know the new WordPress format well enough to even figure out how to insert a photo!) But there is a logic in my absence. Partly, I’ve not felt as free to write about my experiences here because I now know many of the local people and to write about my day to day experiences and observations seems almost like an invasion of their privacy. Also, I would be afraid that my circular musings, which might seem interesting or funny to me, would insult someone I know. Another aspect of my lack of blogging is that writing blogs takes a certain amount of creativity and focus. Since I moved to Clare my lifeline to the people back home — my family and my friends and acquaintances there, has been Facebook. I post a lot of my photos there, often accompanied by pithy comments, in order to share a bit of my life and stay connected. This has been great for maintaining bonds, but it has also worked as a valve that allows just enough creative energy to escape to take the edge off and keep me from doing more. However, it is appropriate that I get back here and write a post, very likely the last one, inspired by Joni Mitchell’s return to the Newport Folk Festival after 53 years, because Joni Mitchell has been a inspiration and a kindred spirit companion to me for much of my life.

Like so many of Joni’s long-time fans, I cried through the videos of her performing the songs that have meant so much to me through the years. At first I thought the tears were about seeing Joni back on stage after the huge setback of a debilitating brain aneurysm in 2015. There was a sense of relief that she was ‘still on her feet’ combined with the poignancy of seeing someone you care about dealing with the effects of aging and illness. However, I’ve come to realize it was more than that.

Joni Mitchell has been a part of my life since my teenage years. She carried me through a lot of angst, joy, insecurities, fear and love. Her songs put words and melodies to what I was going through. They lifted me up when I was in the mood or in need of being lifted, and commiserated with me when I needed another soul on my side. The first year I was away at college I played “Blue” “Clouds” and “Court and Spark” everyday. Those albums gave me comfort and even boosted the creativity of an overwhelmed art major looking for inspiration. ‘Blue’ got me through — I just hope it didn’t ruin Joni for my roommate! 

Throughout my life Joni Mitchell has been a constant. There have been many other artists and genres grabbing my attention along the way, but whenever I had the need to reconnect with myself, I reached for Joni. And randomly, Joni would also reach out to me, through the car radio or a sound system in a store or restaurant, and pull me back to myself, giving me that burst of energy you get when you reconnect with your heart.

So this is why, when I saw a video of her singing “Both Sides Now” onstage at the Newport Folk Festival this past week, it felt like I was listening through my heart. And that’s where the tears came from. Joni Mitchell has accompanied us on our lives’ journeys with that song: from the wistful melody of a young girl who already felt she’d seen a lot of life, to the middle aged woman of substance and experience with a lower, slower singing voice backed up by an orchestra in 2000. And now, here is the elderly Joni, in her beret — who still doesn’t really know life at all, but is still on her feet and showing us the way to keep going, keep glowing, keep creating and keep rolling with the punches. And she did so with a powerful voice that transcended her physical challenges, and touched our hearts. It felt to me like Joni was telling us, yet again, ‘you don’t have to know life at all, just keep living it.’