Monday, October 12, 2009

Strawberry and Blueberry Fields Forever


Twice while walking through New York City's Central Park last week I stumbled upon the Strawberry Fields memorial to John Lennon. It sits just inside the park, within strumming distance of the Dakota, the building outside of which John Lennon was shot. John and Yoko shared an apartment inside the Dakota until Mark David Chapman put an end to all talk of a Beatles reunion.
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A lot of interesting people have lived in the Dakota over the years. Imagine being neighbours with Sting, Bono and football legend John Madden. How cool would that be? Not everyone who wants to live in the Dakota gets to. Both Gene Simmons and Billy Joel were rejected. I can understand why Gene was given the kiss off, but how could they turn down Billy Joel? He doesn't seem like a trouble maker. Perhaps it was the fact that Billy Joel's song My Life became the theme song for the television show Bosom Buddies that did him in. I would have voted him out of the Dakota for that too.
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It's hard to believe that it's been almost twenty-nine years since John Lennon died. The Strawberry Fields memorial sees hundreds of people flocking there every day, in hope that Lennon , in resurrection, might appear for one last concert. He does.
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Strawberry Fields is a memorial park within a park. It's leafy and lush, amply shouldered with shady trees and shrubs. In the middle of this verdant oasis is a simple tribute to Lennon. A large circle, no doubt symbolic of the global whole, gives refuge to inlaid tiles in the shape of a stylized starburst. It reminds me of a compass...something that would help one to find his or her way through life. In the centre of the starburst is a smaller circle, inside of which is a single word...Imagine.
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Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today
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Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace
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You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
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Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
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You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
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When you walk through Strawberry Fields, the words to Lennon's best known song, Imagine, are everywhere. They reverberate quietly. Even in a competitive city like New York where everything screams 'look at me, listen to me', Lennon's lyrics blanket the droning with a firm softness. Everyone should be encouraged to walk past this memorial before they're allowed to buy a gun, build a fence, or live for anytime other than today.
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There was a lone rose sitting atop the word 'imagine' on my first visit to Strawberry Fields. Two days later, when I passed by, the rose was gone. In its place was a loose flowery garland made up of gerbera and gladioli . They danced around 'imagine'. I'm not sure what people think when they visit Strawberry Fields. I think about the tragedy of Lennon's shortened life, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. More than anything I'm reminded about the power of music and words, to bring strangers together. To heal.
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Though I photographed New York City's Strawberry Fields, I've chosen an image today from the blueberry fields of Stewarton, New Brunswick. If you've never visited Strawberry Fields, then you'll just have to imagine what it looks like. You'll have to imagine how it would make you feel. Take my word, it's not there to deify John. It's there to let you dream.

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