Not one to really post about cute stuff, this little guy makes me think of ….well… me at that age. Words did not matter as much as the vibe and the rhythm. I hope he gets to to some TV stuff from this one.
Ok. I feel bad for getting on the “Hunt the tiger” band wagon, and I tried ( I really did) try to stay out of it because I understood his message about privacy etc.. My only point in posting this is that the songwriter here …well… pretty much nailed it with this one and I had to laugh. I apologize.
Thank God it seems to be time to write more again. The nipping of the outer world; the sound and the vibration seem to be all it takes to derail this process for me. The sullen look, the undone chore, the fire on the wrong mountain; camped without cover and begging for rain.
Wanting to write is warm. It is like walking down a slow hill into a town that you know and love. It is the feeling of the blanket just before you feel it go around your shoulders; not there in contact with you until it is. I burrow into the feeling and am home. This is the path to the land where joy is not the enemy and people have not had their most precious toys taken from them moments ago.
I would write about them and the injustice of it all but when I look to their faces, they put up such a good show of not showing the loss. It’s strange to talk to them. I know they have the grief and yet they do not speak of it. This is where I do my best writing. It is not magic, it is simply being willing to speak about it openly so it can get better for even a little while.
The world is now full of knowledge and facts. It is now to the design part. This is where we put our actual needs on the table and use our knowledge to make it better. Perhaps by writing, I place a little bit of my desire at ease. Perhaps I will accidentally put some of your desire at ease.
For the last ten months, I have been between Santa Fe and Paris making a record. The upshot is that it is exactly what I had dreamed was possible and now that I am here doing it, I find that I have been lucky by NOT getting what I wanted when I was nineteen. If I were young and I had all of these options (and, ultimately, responsibilities) thrown at me, I would not bet big on my making choices that would ultimately help me.
I can thank many people who have put up with my slow process of maturation (and let’s face it, I may never get to the promised land of “Mature Human Being”) and I want to thank you personally, but in the chaos of the young person I seem to have lost the memory of the faces and names. I only retain some of the more painful and uncomfortable memories of some of my more spectacular egregious errors in judgement.
That being said, I am sure there are many driving factors to making music your thing. Mine was simply that I had some kind of blind will that I was in fleeting contact with. I think that If it were mine to do again, I would become a writer. I would also try to make sense of the inner workings of my heart and find a way to communicate that to people everywhere. I would scale the heights of joy in my hubris and I would fancy myself a friend to joy and her oft maligned half-sister, sorrow; so canny in her arrival; her timing; her whisperings.
I have an anchor that calls to me past the daydream of the movie. Her name is Celine. She is the reason for the album and the reconsideration of planet living. I would only touch down given a compelling reason. Thank you Celine.
I want to hear from you. I want to confirm the obvious; our connection; our inability to escape for long.
The album goes to mastering this week and I will send you snippets if you care to partake. I will leave them at www.youtube.com/thatguyweheard
Blessings and don’t let the mice make lickie marks anywhere at any time without permission.
