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Tuesday, August 25, 2015

The Maw Gets Another One: Julie Lindemann

Oh, fuck you, cancer, to quote Kerry Reid. I knew this was coming, but still, fuck you, cancer.

Someone I admired died today.



Julie Lindemann first saw me when I was puking off the porch of the punk rock house I lived in when I was 21 (I wasn't aware of her presence till a few bleary moments later). That is the age of hangovers, which explains the puking. She was a grown-up punk rock girl, still cool as hell; she was actually IMPRESSED that I was vomiting off the porch, and she was roughly as old as I am now. She had a timeless punkness that she never lost, even when she had admitted she was going to lose to the rebel cells.

I met her thus, in the filthy confines of my own home, because she and her mate Johnnie Shimon were coming to visit my roommates, Nigel and Brett. Nigel and Brett (Brett is now deceased as well) were two punk rock reprobates from Manitowoc, where Julie and Johnnie had been living and working their photographic magic for, I dunno, decades.

Their life's work was taking portraits of the lovely whack-jobs of my home state of Wisconsin:

See? Click for beautiful. 



The portraits as well as most of the subjects were legendary in their off-the-beaten-path eccentricity and hard-core dignity. I went to their last photo exhibit during Julie's lifetime this spring, at the Museum of Wisconsin Art. Thank god I didn't miss it (thanks to Vee Sonnets, who drove); the couple were unable to attend because Julie was in too much pain, but I saw an artwork there for whose conception I suppose I had been present:

The last time I saw them, they had come to visit me in Carbondale, where we went to see the ruins of Buckminster Fuller's own...

Original geodesic dome...

... I had no idea at the time it would be the last I would see of her. So appreciate every moment with people. You never know. I never went to see them enough. I was busy, I was lazy, I was an ass.

Anyway, at the Museum of Wisconsin art I saw one of Julie and Johnnie's photos of a leafy canopy, repeating as panels of a geodesic dome hoisted near the ceiling...



That's how I said goodbye.

Goodbye.

2 comments:

  1. We could've been anything
    That we wanted to be
    And it's not too late to change
    I'd be delighted to give it some thought
    May-be you'll agree that we really ought
    Two, three, four

    We could've been anything
    That we wanted to be

    Yes, that decision was ours
    It's been decided we're weaker divided

    Let friendship double up our powers

    We could've been anything
    That we wanted to be
    And I'm not saying that we should
    But if we try it, we'd learn to abide it
    We could be the best at bein' good guys

    Flowers of the earth
    Who can even guess how much
    A real friend is worth?
    Good guys, shake an open hand

    Maybe we'll be trusted
    If we try to understand
    No doubt about it
    It must be worthwhile
    Good friends do tend to make you smile

    We could've been anything
    That we wanted to be
    Yes, that decision is ours
    It's been decided we're weaker divided
    Let friendship double our powers

    You give a little love
    And it all comes back to you
    (La la la la la la la)
    You know you gonna be remembered
    For the things you say and do
    (La la la la la la la)

    You give a little love
    Andit all comes back to you
    (La la la la la la la)
    You know you gonna be remembered
    For the things you say and do
    (La la la la la la la)
    (Repeat and fade)

    ReplyDelete
  2. It seems that I become more disconnected from reality the more I visit this blog. My brain, or what's left of it, now has taken to juxtapose j & j's picture of Tom with the geodesic dome that has the jewish captions (you know, both are in the link). The result is that I keep seeing flashes of Ann's unpredictable derriere staring at me. An

    Ominously, there doesn't seem to be anything anal-retentive about it. You'd think that a dignified b & w photo of her clothed behind should've accompanied her scroll, but no, it didn't. Like no one cares. But I do. The difference between Ann w and w/o her tukas is about the same difference as between a smoke signal and a phone call. Hello? Hello??

    ReplyDelete

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