Dear Pandora

by angeliska on February 20, 2005

I don’t know how to do this.
I don’t know how to encapsulate,
to express in a few words, a thousand words
everything there is to say
about this girl:
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
Pandora Aurora Rose
(Katherine Jeanine Hastings)
July 22nd, 1975 – January 25th, 2005
She was, among many other things,
(as best described by our friend Mer)
a talented musician, an artist, a poet, a killer DJ,
a fire-breather, a stilt-walker, a rookie entymologist,
a fine picnic hostess, a fantastic director,
a creative and energetic storyteller, a costumer,
a lover of animals and children, a burlesque star,
and an instigator of phenomenal
events and occurrences.
She was whip-smart, wickedly funny,
well-read, well-traveled, loyal,
generous with her time, quick to love,
quick to forgive, bad-ass, sexy, silly,
thoughtful, and endearingly childlike/childish.
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
She was a faery, a whiskey-pixie.
goldfairy - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
She was a firecracker.
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
She was a siren.
bluesiren - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
She was Calamity Jane.
pirate-girl - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
She was my friend and I miss her.
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
If I could compose a paean,
a eulogy, an elegy for her
I would- but the words I have
are to her, a letter that I can
never send. I’ve never had
to write anything more difficult-
Bear with me, while I try.
This was you:

Minutes after being born,
the littlest pumpkin..
Before your eyes darkened
to foxfire amber, full of sparks
and mischief’s glint.
Your tiny starfish hands curled
and itching to be full of the world,
to know what was out there..
Before life happened to you..
Before..

You so bright and small.
Mouse bones..
It’s hard to believe it’s been almost
a month since you died..
It’s taken me this long to come to the
place where I could even attempt to
say what needs to be said:
now, I want to try and say it to you-
even though I don’t know where you are,
I feel you with me all the time.
I hear your gravelly kitten voice
pulling at my ear, I see your eyes
when I close mine.
The night I found out, I had just
been thinking of you- a few weeks before
I was standing on the street discussing
your invincibility with our tall friend –
how you were made of rubber,
made to bounce back…
Oh, how we believed that.
Unthinkable, then that he should call me
later and ask me to verify a rumor,
a horrible rumor that you were dead-
and not in some fiery calamity,
not some bizarre accident-
but alone in the bath,
a needle in your hand.
I refused it utterly-
I wouldn’t accept it as truth until
I spoke to someone that had seen you.
A dozen phonecalls later, my egg of denial
started to crack. I fell on the floor howling,
knowing you were lost.
In the morning, I called the police.
The detective verified all our worst fears-
he had seen you. He told me it was true,
and even then, it didn’t seem real.
Impossible, that you could be gone-
but far too late for a joke, an errant bit of
nasty gossip- the hope that I could ever
hear your voice wisecracking,
“Remember when everyone thought I was dead?”
Yeah, we all totally freaked out.
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
The next week was lost in a blur of tears.
I got sick, and blew out a blood vessel
in my eye from weeping. It didn’t matter-
I couldn’t stop, because with your death
came every other- each loss magnified,
brought back just as fresh, just as raw..
It seems every year we lose another
friend this way
– ignominious and
horribly wasteful, how beauty and genius
are continually destroyed by a love,
a need for poppy juice and opium escape.
It makes no sense.
A few nights before the funeral, the three of us
sisters altar building II - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
sisters altar building I - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
came together to make a shrine for you –
carved wood and hinges, images of
everything that brought you to mind:
Beetles, orchids, geishas, jewels.
Laughing fountains and paper dolls.
Rabbits, forests, foxes, graces.
Carousel animals, chariots, cocoons.
Monarch migrations, moons.
memorial shrine I - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
memorial shrine II - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
We came to Dallas bearing candles,
flowers, rose-flavoured cupcakes,
dollies, candy, and treasures to
place on your altar- along with a
shot of Jameson’s and a shot
of Pepto Bismol, for your
notoriously troubled tummy.
The service was held outside,
on a gorgeous clear day.
Everyone was shaky and scared.
Your friends from Austin all came,
and your entire family was there-
and both groups did their best to
comfort each other. In the sunlight,
under bare oaks and overlooking
a winter-worn field we sat as the
minister incanted ashes to ashes.
A herd of little black cows came up
to the fence to pay their respects,
and we all bust up- knowing you
would be loving it and laughing
in some heavenly saloon
about your unruly bovine mourners..
memorial cows - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
There were pictures of you everywhere,
and red rose petals, and a big feast –
but I couldn’t eat anything, only drink
whiskey, and more whiskey.
Everyone did- in your honour
and in order to get through it.
I’ve been lighting candles for you,
having imaginary conversations
with you, poring over pictures of
you, writing letters to your friends
and family, crying over you in
drugstores and bathrooms and bars..
None of it brings you back.
Nothing I do now will ever kill
the hideous sense of regret that
I didn’t show you enough, tell
you enough that you were loved.
Everyone that loved you feels now
a terrible guilt, because we all
believe that there was more we
could have done to help you,
to save you. If only, and
if we had- would you still
be here with us?
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
Living your life
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
making music
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
being a fairy of peril

having easter egg hunts and tea parties
Easter in Fairyland circa 1998 (?) with Dame Darcy, Pandora Pumpkin, Black Jack Shellac, Brett Caraway, Kyle, Dougie & Misket. Still the best Easter egg hunt ever! Immortalized in Meatcake #11 or #13 (can't remember!)
Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
and laughing (with midgets)

and eating watermelon?
watermelon - Pandora Aurora Rose  (Katherine Jeanine Hastings) July 22nd, 1975 - January 25th, 2005
I don’t know, honey.
It kills me that you never
realized how amazing
you were. I wish we could
have shown you that before
it was too late. I wish I had
seen you, talked to you more
in the last five years.
Visited you when I had the chance.
Had slumber parties and
gone out dancing with you.
People all across the country,
scattered all over the world
are mourning the loss of you.
You touched so many lives.
I know you were in pain,
I know you were sad
most of the time.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there.
I’m sorry I couldn’t
make it better.

I love you.
I miss you.
“If your hands were in mine
I’d be sure we’d not sever..
My apple tree, my brightness
It’s time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather..”

I don’t know how to say goodbye.

5 comments

[…] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Angeliska Polacheck, Seze Devres. Seze Devres said: I still dream about her. RT: @Angeliska: Today is the day our dear friend + sisterling Pandora Aurora Rose died. http://twurl.nl/afdbnk […]

by Tweets that mention Angeliska Gazette › Dear Pandora -- Topsy.com on January 25, 2011 at 11:41 pm. Reply #

[…] ♥ 2011 : A Year in Pictures. From Miss Pandora (who reminds me so much of another Pandora – our dear departed Pandora Aurora Rose, aka. Kathie Hastings) […]

by Angeliska Gazette › An Epically Epic and Fairly Tardy Year in Review – or, HOLY SHIT: 2011! on January 23, 2012 at 4:14 am. Reply #

I had a dream about Katherine this morning. I met her in Austin in the early/mid 90’s, but lost contact with her. Thank you for the poem and pictures about her.

by Chris on March 29, 2014 at 5:44 am. Reply #

She lived with me for almost 6 months, here in Irving. She was a great friend. A year or so later, after moving to Austin for the first time, she introduced me to one of the most wonderful women I would ever meet, Angie Bailey. A bunch of us took a road trip to visit her in San Francisco. We slept on her floor for a week, walking distance to Haight Ashbury. She visited Texas again with a new scar and video tape of her catching fire and falling on Mike Watt during a Porno for Pyro performance. I loved her like a sister. I miss her to this day.

by Jeremy Michell on February 6, 2015 at 6:22 am. Reply #

One night in the winter of 2005, I went to see the band The Cold War at a cozy little venue called the Hemlock Tavern in SF. When I arrived, they were just getting started, but I noticed their usual equipment wasn’t on stage. Tamera the singer, who always commanded the crowd ferociously was sitting demurely in profile, clacking away on an old manual typewriter on a desk; Tony was sawing at an upright bass, in place of his usual electric; with no drums in sight, Allison was intent on her trumpet, playing quite languorously. Mesmerized by their somber arrangement, I was also impressed by their evident versatility, and couldn’t help but think of the band Tuxedomoon, another art rock trio — highly lauded and accomplished multi-instrumentalists — who had also started in SF a quarter century earlier. The members of Tuxedomoon were old friends of mine, scattered around the globe at the time (New York, Mexico, Greece, Belgium…), and I was in the process of booking and preparing to promote their first US show in over a decade. An idea was dawning on me while The Cold War played, and I barely noticed Tamera announce at the end that their set was “dedicated to our good friend Pandora,” also a dear friend of mine; in fact, I was expecting Pandora to arrive in SF and stay with me for a while in a day or two, as she was planning to move back after an especially rough year or so in Austin, Texas. I looked around, hopeful to see my old friend in the audience, but she wasn’t there. Could they be referring to another Pandora? That seemed doubtful.
After they had received their applause, I went up to congratulate them, and asked if they were into the band Tuxedomoon. All three of them looked at me somewhat startled and said, more or less at once, “Yes, Tuxedomoon is our favorite band!“ I said, “I kinda figured that. Your performance reminded me a bit of them.” They all seemed pleased with the comparison, and then I casually asked, “How would you guys like to open for Tuxedomoon?” They all laughed and gestured a collective “yeah sure,“ but eventually realized I wasn’t pulling their legs; the idea, though still an abstraction, put a smile on their faces.
When I asked why the performance was dedicated to our friend Pandora, a very serious look came over Tamera, and she informed me Pandora had overdosed the night before in Texas, and was dead. Seeing how distraught I was, she hugged me and we cried together.
Pandora Hastings was a really special person, a zero-bullshit, kooky, winsome melancholic in velvet dresses and striped stockings, who could breathe fire and make flaming tassels spin in opposite directions from her tiny pasties. I’d booked her band Riverbottom Nightmare (named after a Muppet band) a few times, and we had a decade long flirtation that never went past occasional bursts of affection on the dance floor. One night backstage, after a show by a notoriously debauched international rockstar we were both friendly with, some cocaine was going around. The rockstar joked, “Where are all the supermodels so we can snort this off their asses?” Pandora said, “I’m no supermodel but I’m told it’s one of my best features!” and proceeded to lay face down on the table, lift her skirt, and pull down her panties to make room for the illicit buffet. I don’t usually indulge, but that night I made an exception.
Pandora had moved back to Austin a couple years earlier, and I knew she was struggling with addiction; we hadn’t been in close touch for a while until that month, when she’d decided it was time to get away from all the temptation. She said she’d thought of me and reached out because I’d always been an encouraging presence in her life, and felt I would be a stabilizing influence. Hearing the news of her passing was incredibly painful. But I also know you can’t blame yourself for these things. Not only is it self-centered, but it can inhibit the deceased person’s ability to move on.
A couple months later, The Cold War opened up for Tuxedomoon at a large venue called the Rickshaw Stop, and knocked everyone out. It was a historic show, and I knew I’d made a dream come true for this extraordinary young band; in my heart, the whole event was dedicated to the memories we shared of beautiful Pandora Pumpkin.
I don’t believe a spirit like hers disappears even when the physical life does, and I am greatly looking forward to learning what she does next!

by Neil M on July 13, 2022 at 9:33 pm. Reply #

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