Fire Woman: Headphones, MTV, and a Little Rock and Roll Rebellion
Part of the Music & Memories Collection by DeElla Hoberg
There was a time when discovering a new band could change your entire world.
For me, one of those bands was The Cult.
It started during the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of high school. Our next-door neighbor had a nephew visiting from the Los Angeles area. He was a year older than me, cute, and instantly cooler than anyone I knew.
Naturally, we were impressed.
He introduced us to The Cult by playing their album Electric, and suddenly my friends and I had a new musical obsession.
My friend Sara and I made a trip to Tower Records and bought whatever we could afford. Then we copied the music onto cassette tapes so we could share it with each other and our neighbor.
For those of you who grew up with streaming music, this was how we did things. Discovering a band required a little more effort, and sharing music was practically a social event.
But my strongest memories of that time aren't really about Tower Records or even the cute boy from California.
They're about sitting alone in the dark.
A World Beyond the Sliding Glass Door
Our house had an enclosed patio just off the kitchen. It was a place I liked to escape to when things inside the house weren't particularly pleasant.
The kitchen had one of those wall-mounted telephones with a ridiculously long cord. It was just long enough that I could take the phone onto the patio, close the sliding glass door, and talk to my friends in relative privacy.
And when I wasn't talking on the phone, I was often sitting out there with my headphones on.
I can still remember the feeling of being surrounded by darkness, listening to music that seemed to come from an entirely different universe.
It was exciting. It was sexy. It was rock and roll.
It was everything my ordinary world wasn't.
This was also the age of MTV, back when music videos were an event. When my parents weren't home, I could turn on the television and watch.
And there was Ian Astbury, the lead singer of The Cult.
He seemed exotic and mysterious, unlike anyone I had ever met. The hair, the clothes, the attitude, the sheer presence of him. He looked like he belonged to a world that operated by an entirely different set of rules.
I was fascinated.
Looking back, I think what captivated me wasn't just the music or the musicians. It was the possibility of another kind of life.
Music gave me a way to imagine places I'd never been, people I'd never met, and experiences that seemed impossibly far away.
For a little while, sitting in the dark with my headphones on, I could be somewhere else.
Turning a Memory into a Painting
Years later, when I began creating my Music & Memories collection, those feelings were still there.
I didn't want to paint a portrait of Ian Astbury or illustrate a particular song. I wanted to capture what that music felt like.
That's where Fire Woman came from.
The painting features a figure wearing headphones, with fiery oranges and reds burning through the composition. The flames represent the energy, excitement, and intensity of the music.
I wanted the painting to feel almost electric, as though the sound itself were radiating outward.
There are layers of color, texture, and expressive marks. Some are deliberate; others came from allowing the materials to do their own thing.
It's a little wild, a little rebellious, and definitely not interested in behaving itself.
Which seems appropriate.
The Music That Helped Me Escape
When I look at Fire Woman, I don't just think about The Cult.
I remember the girl sitting alone on that patio, headphones on, listening to music in the dark.
Home wasn't always a safe or happy place for me. My father could be frightening, and I spent a lot of my childhood trying to avoid his anger. But when I put on those headphones, I could disappear into a world that felt exciting and full of possibilities.
Music and books were my escape long before I was old enough to actually leave.
And maybe that's why music still means so much to me.
I wasn't just listening to songs. I was discovering that there were other worlds beyond the one I knew. Worlds filled with interesting people, beautiful things, adventure, and freedom.
I couldn't go there yet, but I could imagine them.
Eventually, I got to leave that house and build a life of my own.
And all these years later, I find myself making art about the music that helped me get there.
Funny how things come full circle.
About the Artwork
Fire Woman is an original 20 × 20-inch mixed-media painting on watercolor paper mounted to canvas. Part of my Music & Memories collection, it explores the powerful connection between music, memory, and the experiences that shape us.
I'd love to know: Was there a band or musician who opened up an entirely new world for you when you were young? I'd love to hear your story in the comments.
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