I CONTAIN MULTITUDES by DYLAN. Story by Vin M
I catch Dylan's phrasings and intonations in-between cutting the carrots and the parsnips.
ANGELINA by BOB DYLAN Story by Vin M
There are many ways to meet a song for the first time. I didn’t meet Angelina until I read a novel called The Best Of Adam Sharp, by Graeme Simsion.
GOTTA SERVE SOMEBODY by BOB DYLAN Story by Vin M
One singer is 77 years old. Greying curly hair. One singer is in his early 20s. Flowing ginger locks. Both are sitting at a keyboard, backed by a four piece band.
LIKE A ROLLING STONE by BOB DYLAN Story by Vin Maskell
“Is that all the man sings? ‘How does it feel?’” Hannah, five years old, is making a play-dough birthday cake. Jesse, nearly three, is drawing a map of the world. I’m podding peas.
DON’T THINK TWICE IT’S ALRIGHT performed by THE INDIGO GIRLS Story by Molly Galea
Over fifteen years, brick by determined brick, we built a life out of thin air and intentions. When I first met you, my mother could not tell her friends her eldest daughter was a lesbian. Talking to her friends, she would shorten my girlfriends’ names to androgynous mysteries. Jo. Nic. Lou.
FRIEND OF THE DEVIL by BOB DYLAN Story by Damian Balassone
Sometimes it’s only when you see a girl for the second or third time that you realise how beautiful she is. A song is a bit like that.
WHEN THE SHIP COMES IN by BOB DYLAN Story by Vin M
All I could think of , as she stood just a metre or two away, unflustered by betting deadlines, was her voice, her laugh, her brown eyes, her cascading hair, her full figure. And the inexperience of my heart (plus anoher vital organ).
JOKERMAN by BOB DYLAN Story by Scott Howey
I had better things to do than to listen to another song identified by my music-obsessed brother as worthy of listening to. Yet, I was polite, I was always polite. You see, I’d been through this process before.
Visions Of Johanna by Bob Dylan. Story by Vin M
Vin Maskell Melbourne, Midnight, November 29, 1982 On a piece of foolscap paper, at my desk in my single-bed bedroom or maybe at the small table in the little kitchen at the end of the long hallway, I wrote a little poem. Nothing special.
Just Like A Woman by Bob Dylan. Story by Vin M
What is a 14 year old boy to make of Just Like A Woman? What does he know of fog, amphetamines and pearls? What does he know of standing inside the rain, of dying there of thirst, of a long-time curse?