turbulent indigo

There was a moment in the 90s when Joni Mitchell was celebrated in Saskatoon and before it was done the officials asked what should they do, in the education system to make more artists like her. Her response upset people. Basically, things are fucked up in a perfect way for positioning certain people to become artists. So don’t worry about it. You’re already doing the best thing for developing artists due to the frustration and disappointments inherent in this eduction system, as it is. Later she wrote a song about it.
You want to make Van Goghs? Raise ’em up like sheep
Make ’em out of Eskimos and women if you please
Make ’em nice and normal make ’em nice and neat
You see him with his shotgun there, bloodied in the wheat.
Oh what do you know about living in Turbulent Indigo.
Brash fields crude crows in a scary sky
In a golden frame roped off tourists guided by
Tourists talking about the madhouse, talking about the ear
The madman hangs in fancy homes, they wouldn’t let him near
He’d piss in their fireplace, he’d drag them through Turbulent Indigo
I’m a burning hearth he said people see the smoke
but no one comes to warm themselves sloughing off a coat
And all my little landscapes all my yellow afternoons
Stack up around this vacancy like dirty cups and spoons
No mercy, sweet Jesus no mercy from Turbulent Indigo

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