“The truth about love comes at 4am. You’re all f**ked up and you grab a pen…” This line from Pink’s new album ‘The Truth About Love’ is indicative of pink’s new attitude towards love, and how relationships work. Pink is a woman who has had an epiphany and her recent tour is all about spreading her findings.The beauty of an artist like Pink is that she has a huge arsenal of material, which she can delve into and emerge with some interesting points. Love, sex and relationships are common themes in her work and added to the material on her new album we realise not only her epiphany but also a back-catalogue of rollercoaster emotions that bring her to her eventual conclusion. It is as if all her work this far has been building to this crescendo.
Pink is gentle with us. She holds our hand through this minefield of emotions. She builds a convincing case while the same time dazzling us with her daring acrobatics and spectacular showmanship.
It is clear from Pink’s work that she has used music and song writing to get to grips with her tempestuous emotions. Hidden beneath catchy tunes and glamorous outfits was always a sense of searching, of trying to understand.
Now that her question has been answered and she has found peace in stabilising her marriage and becoming a mother what is left for Pink to explore, and is this the end of our angst-riddled music and the start of a new genre?
Her emotional openness captivates her audience. He willingness to show vulnerability gives her a reliability and anyone who as been involved in a difficult relationship will feel she has shared their experience when she sings, nothing else can break your heart like true love.
If there is one thing the Parisians know how to do it is to enjoy life. Every moment is packed with sensuality. Each sense at its optimum stimulus, balanced to perfection. Sitting here in the gardens framing the Eiffel Tower there is an overwhelming sense of joy. Soft Jazz floats through the air, the sound of laughter and fun.
I watch a plastic bag float languidly on the breathless air. Twisting this way and that it resembles a jelly fish but it is in no hurry. It is being taken, wherever it is needed.
Finally, the event we are all waiting for, the Tower sparkles. There is a loud cheer. I look back to see crowds and crowds of people, all gathered at this spot, all sat cross-legged in circles of varying degrees. They are friends, facing once another, chatting and interacting. My gaze returns to the Tower. A young Chinese girl is standing in front of us – she is smiling and someone takes her picture. The flash pops and the sparkling of the Tower is magnified and becomes three dimensional.
There are several others doing the same thing. They are all different ages, and nationalities, some in couples, some in groups, but they too want their picture taken with the wondrous Eiffel Tower.
It occurs to me, if there were to be some natural disaster, a volcanic eruption on the scale of Pompeii, and we were all preserved in that very spot for all eternity: what would future historians make of this? All these people gathered in rows upon rows, surrounding this looming construct. Would they deduct it was some form of worship and that the tower was an idol? Perhaps they would discover the countless replicas which are sold as key chains and souvenirs and view them as some kind of talisman of a larger idol: a god perhaps. They could even speculate that the journey to the Tower was a kind of pilgrimage made by all followers at some time in their life.
If the Eiffel Tower is a symbol of the Parisians ability to enjoy life, to fully appreciate being in the moment, to find balance and harmony in each of these perfect moments which bring joy to life, then consider me a follower. A worshiper of the ability to celebrate life.