Kris Kristofferson did it all! He wrote songs that made the best songwriters mutter “why do I bother”, smoldering with admiration and love.

 

Flush with details only a seer should know - not someone who’s only been on our planet a mere several decades - his words ritualistically lured you in anti-pop

 

Honesty, humanity, sensuality bolstered by

Everyday ordinary extravagant feelings so deep you could feel their molecular structure simmering beneath taut skin

 

He was the prototype - in the movies - for every bad boy motorcycle-riding rocker many a young girl fell for (including me) and my first love was essentially him with a Russian accent: poet, musician, lover, protector, biker, humble genius

 

I’ve watched innumerable videos of him performing his songs from a young age into his eighties and never not felt something deep while also being able to easily sing along

 

Isn’t that the point of existence? To remind each other that we are all mirrors of the most merciful aspects of ourselves curmudgeons can be lovable the violent can be redeemed with enough

 

Love and optimistic self-belief everyone had a different relationship to your handsomeness to some (Sinead) you must have seemed like a benevolent music-father to others Jim Morrison-esque; spiritual elegance Highwayman

 

Just out of reach the songs the songs the songs

The work ethic, ethical and strong arms holding so many peers and disciples up and up, inside and out you were the voice in some ways,

 

Of Americana if music was the sun -

R I S E