This weekend was a murderous one. I barely survived. Overnight shifts at old coffee shops, Canada concerts inside of Blind Pigs (afloat in a sea of drunkeness, bachelorettes and ashtray noses). Late nights. But good nights. But also nights that put me further behind schedule with my semester project. The problem = design an urban studio for Tulane University in New Orleans. The solution = panic, wasted time, a full and violent loathing for my instructors which directly leads to a complete lack of desire to attend studio. If I can somehow manage to pull it off by 2pm on Wednesday I will be treated to a lovely concert in Ann Arbor with the incredible Chris Bathgate and Annie Palmer as well as Canada's friends The Dardenelles. Booze will exist inside of me. I will exist in a system of strings and wires that moves my elbows and knees as an audience member admiring the terribly wonderful tremors of live and lovely music. Mouthfulls.
In a few weeks I hit the road with Page France. Every time I think about it I shake and shiver. The record will be out by then. In hands, in ears. I'll be in a tree. I am most nervous and excited about playing at The Mercury Lounge in New York City. I'm currently downloading a Joanna Newsom concert from June of 2004 which took place at The Mercury Lounge. I became even more anxious and excited knowing that I'll be performing my songs upon the very stage where less than two years ago Joanna did the same. I want to drink lemonade with her and hug her in between gulps. I want to watch her fingers flip between stretched strings. Though our bones break and our souls seperate, though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil, with her songs in my head I shall never have a long face.
Today I received the final/mastered copy of This Cursed House. I've heard this record so many times now I don't even know what to think anymore. I need to not listen to it for a while. I need to think about new songs. I need to finish the next 48 hours as quickly and as skillfully as possible so that I can sit in the yard and balance new thoughts between my open ears.
That's all I want right now. To lay the entire day in the grass with a book and a headphones. To not have to worry about sketching and explaining, cutting and pasting, drafting and diagramming, typing and sighing.
To simply feel the sun shave my face with it's millions of tiny blades. To watch the grass wave. To watch geese gather wind under wings. To watch ants climbing the mountains of sidewalks.
And once that is all taken care of, I want to play as many rock shows as is allowed. These things I wish in the name of all that breathes and stretches it's knees, that shakes it's sleeves at the gathering breeze.
Send me your pillow and your favorite blanket so that I may rest easy.
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