Severe Long Covid, the uninvited guest which has been staying with me now for almost four years, infiltrates every nook and cranny of life, turning the most mundane tasks into Herculean feats. It demands not only physical strength but a deep well of emotional fortitude to face the isolation that often accompanies the invisible nature of the illness.
The struggle is compounded when one, like myself, experiences hypersensitivity to sounds. It’s not merely a dislike for loud noises; it’s a heightened sensitivity that transforms the auditory landscape into an unpredictable minefield, making even the simplest pleasures, like enjoying listening to music, a challenge.
For me, who finds solace and expression in making music, this hypersensitivity takes a toll on a fundamental aspect of my adult life; I had to put my band Katie Kruel on hold.
After over a year of grappling with the illness, I found myself on a plateau where inviting someone over for short visits on better days became a possibility. My best friend and bandmate, Hans Dirksen-Smits, became a regular visitor, offering a source of support and camaraderie.
The hypersensitivity to sound, rooted in the intricacies of how the brain processes auditory stimuli, presented challenges but also opportunities. Singing, a form of creative expression that I could control, became a therapeutic outlet. However, the act of listening to external sounds, so not listening while I sing myself, remained a struggle.
During one of Hans’s visits, he brought along a new edition of “Crow: From the Life and Songs of the Crow” by Ted Hughes. Despite my difficulty focusing on reading, he suggested that the collection of poems might require less concentration. Initially hesitant, I questioned why I would want to delve into the works of a man whose marriage to Sylvia Plath ended in tragedy. Yet, recognizing the need to separate the artist from the art, I decided to explore Hughes’ “Crow.”
Surprisingly, “Crow” became a profound source of inspiration. It offered a different channel for creative expression, a departure from the challenges posed by my own songwriting. The idea emerged to turn these poems into songs, a collaborative effort with Hans. The mythical and symbolic nature of Crow’s character provided a canvas for musical interpretation.
Besides the obvious potential of these poems with the embodiment of darkness, chaos, and transformation, they deeply resonate with me as a person suffering from the lingering effects of this illness, feeling consumed by a sense uncertainty and more often than I would like to admit, despair. Both Crow’s relentless resilience and their ability to adapt to various situations have been as a source of inspiration me, battling long covid, offering hope for eventual recovery and renewal.
Obviously Crow is a mythical and symbolic character, representing both destructive and creative forces in the universe and I am a real-life individual grappling with the prolonged and debilitating effects of the virus. Unlike the enigmatic and metaphorical nature of Crow, my struggles are grounded in the tangible challenges of physical and mental health.
Nevertheless, both narratives – if I can see my current life as a narrative – although distinct in nature, touch upon aspects of resilience, endurance, and the human capacity to face adversity, whether it be through the mythical lens of Crow or the lived experiences as a Long Covid patient.
The process of turning these poems into songs became a joyful journey, a way to compose new material and make music together again. The collaboration resulted in the equivalent of an album, and we have no plans to halt this creative momentum.
As a token of gratitude to those who have supported me through this challenging time, and as a testament to my enduring existence, we’ve selected two pieces, “Two Legends” and “Examination at the Womb-Door,” to be shared first. Some sketches I made while taking obligatory rests on my couch, are used as cover art for the digital files.
“Two Legends”, is a poem that contrasts the mythical stories of the Minotaur and the Griffin, representing contrasting aspects of existence, the duality, physical struggle, isolation, navigating a metaphorical maze, and the transformative nature of these experiences
“Examination at the Womb-Door” is a powerful and vivid poem that explores the moment of birth. If I may be so bold to compare it to the experience of Long Covid, I find threshold experiences, physical intensity, uncertainty, metaphorical rebirth, and the importance of support in navigating challenging circumstances.
These pieces offer a glimpse into the musical odyssey born from the union of Hughes’ words and our music. In 2024, around the time that I got infected with Covid19 and developed Long Covid for four years, we will release the complete album on a modest scale.
My beloved, multi-talented partner, Ed Romijn, has stood patiently by my side since the onset of my illness. He skillfully managed to record everything right here in my living room, considering that even short distances of travel are immensely exhausting for me. The final mastering of the recordings was expertly handled by our dear friend and favorite sound engineer, Chris van Velde at LGM Studio.
If you’re wondering how I could oversee the recording process, when I’ve mentioned my struggle with listening to music, the sad truth is, I can’t listen to it myself.
I just hope you will instead.
Nathalie,
KATIE KRUEL
© Art work: Katie Kruel and Ed Romijn