This song, let me tell you of it.
Back in the days of my drug-addled youth I was at a party one Saturday night, sitting on the floor, taking my turn when the joint came around (Hey, anybody else remember “Don’t bogart that joint!”?), when this song came on the stereo.
And I began to hallucinate.
Something I had never done on mere weed.
I closed my eyes and saw a painting of a dinghy tossed on stormy seas. The painting was very dark, mainly dark green. I don’t remember the name of the painting nor the artist, nor whether I saw it in my high school AP English class or in one of my college art history classes. Probably in h.s., because I do remember the instructor telling us how the artist had slapped globs of paint onto the canvas because he was “…not a very good artist”; why would a college-level art history course include what is deemed a mediocre painting? I might contest that judgmental statement now. If the measure of a painting, or any work of art — really — is the effect it has on the viewer/listener/reader, I would argue that the mere fact that I hallucinated this painting years later must mean that it had within it some greatness.
To this day I find this song magical, although (of course!) I no longer hallucinate when hearing it.