i can feel the dust on my blog stirring to a mighty cloud as i type this, like the beaver chewed sticks raise silt from the river edge when i rake 'em in. rotem's blog, not one of his best, still has prodded me enough today.
i've been pretty sick this winter, so blogging has been a casualty. i'm back in squilax, now beginning the positive process of organizing all my possessions in the caboose i'll call home for many months now. friday i untangled the knot of cables that has been sitting in my gear box for years, testing every one and throwing out the crackles.
no shows for a while, trying to make sense of the whole and focus on the desperately needed new album. it's hard to get back to this equally dusty habit of writing and rewriting. today, as dull on a monday as any wage slave i watch the cat scar the window, looking for reentry, and consider the naked photo i got in the mail. a good start for a monday. music still pays my bills. c'mon, tea, kick in.
guitars, f/x boxes, grants, an august tour, which of these can i bring to life. first, this. and to love the taste of free'd dust.
love;
t