quality.
delight.
tender.

what words do you have trouble looking in the eye?

contentment is a new song that you don't want to stop playing, even though your fingers are very clearly about to bleed.

i was so scared that i wouldn't be able to write about this, about anything, be able to write ever again. four weeks of being virtually unable to lift my guitar without falling to pieces, i felt like a piece of me was dying, like my last hope was lost. four weeks of having stones in my heart and lead in my tongue, four weeks of terror that i had lost what was more important to me than anything in the world. four weeks of having lost myself. four weeks of having lost my voice.

but it came back. my voice came back. and she's quiet, and she's tired, and she hurts all over and she still cries a lot. but she's come home.

though i will never forgive myself for letting him walk out the door with my confessional heart, even though it didn't stay away long, i will always find my solace in the knowledge that it loved me enough to come home. even if he didn't.

one of these days i'll forget that i love you

holy mother of god, i've almost finished a new song. a NEW SONG. at long, long, long last. to be crass, i feel the way you feel when you vomit after getting really drunk. it smells funny, it's kind of painful, you don't really want to be doing it...but your head is so much clearer once you do. that's how i feel. cleaner.

and i just compared my songwriting to vomiting. probably not the best metaphor i could have chosen.

p.s. it occurs to me that i should probably unpack the vomit metaphor a little more...it's not so much that i feel that gross post-vomit aftermath feeing, it's that i feel better, like i've dislodged something from my throat and can now breathe again...and yes, that metaphor is much better, isn't it? it's like i'm breathing again, finally.

be careful when conducting social experiments: sometimes they can open wounds.

check this schedule, yo
last week:
tuesday: recording and visitage with the divine miss n.
wednesday: buttermilk with tribe and the arrival of lady k.
thursday: open mic
friday: halloween (and let me tell you, it takes energy to swan about in that much vinyl), traipsing about with kate and jason
saturday: lunch at junior's, afternoon in prospect park, girly night
sunday: recording, grey dog, veg night and impromptu concert, late straggler to veg night appearing at half past midnight.

this week:
monday: drinks and possible alias viewing
tuesday: possible drinks and more recording
wednesday: matrix
thursday: show at the orange bear
friday-saturday-sunday: row dyland.

i may not be sleeping, but who needs sleep with extracurriculars like these? although, if i remain awake for any of rhode island, i'll be terribly impressed with myself.

so goddamn hot.

brace yourselves, sweetlings: when the pictures from halloween arrive, you will probably want to have a fire extinguisher on hand. because we were JUST THAT HOT.

watch this space.

so last night, the troika (that would be the ladies K and myself) trotted our boots on down to carroll gardens' boudoir bar for its stellar open mic night. unsurprisingly, i came in with a quiver in my hand and a desert in my throat; generally speaking i HATE open mic nights, it's like everyone is just sitting there willing you to fuck up so that they can look better. cutthroat. and i'd never been to this one before. fortunately, my trepidation was all for nought, as the crowd was lovely and friendly, the bartenders as well, and there were a whole bunch of great musicians. my favorites were the flamenco guitarists, though their performance put a lump in my throat with the memory of a dark night in prospect park. there was the expected cavalcade of lecherous men, all of whom seemed to have set their sights on the kate. honestly. can't take her (or her boots) anywhere!



but best of all? it looks like i might have won myself a booking--immediately after leaving the stage i was accosted for one of the bartenders, who'd been tasked with keeping an eye out for people who "really really kicked a lot of ass up there;" apparently, i qualify. so we'll see how that pans out.


p.s. quote of the evening: 'too bad britney spears isn't as cool as you are.' spoken by a total stranger. i kid you not.

by the lovely bluering.