I've been on a bit of a Fleetwood Mac kick the past few days. I've always loved their lyrics and the raw passion behind their music. Lovers won and relationships lost. Friendships broken and betrayals. It's all the allure of daytime TV soap operas without the unexplained resurrections and family feuds.
I don't know what it is about their music that balances me. Maybe it's because it reminds me of my Sophomore year of college when I roomed with a girl who sang in a Fleetwood Mac Tribute band. I spent the majority of that year locked in my room, writing, and falling in love for the first time.
Maybe it's because of how much Gene idolized Stevie Nicks. With her big black boots and curves she was a woman for me to look up to when I was younger. Strong. Proud. Independent. Self-aware. Talented. She is still someone to marvel at. I remember listening to her sultry voice on car rides when Gene would roll down the windows and stare out at the country side. I'd lean into the wind, letting it rip my hair violently as I imagined what it would be like to feel love and feel loss like that. Eagerly anticipating the battle wounds that would mark my adulthood.
In a lot of ways the title of this blog was inspired by Fleetwood Mac. Gypsy.
Strange how the strangest things can give you strength when you least expect it... but when you need it the most.
"Women, they will come and they will go. When the rain washes you clean you'll know."
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