Looking through notes, finding memories...

 

 4/19/12
Why am I sitting in the ferry terminal? Because I missed the ferry 

and now I have to / now I get to 

write a song about missing the ferry.

Where would I rather be?
I’d like to rent a little room in an old seaside inn for myself and the three girls working behind the counter at Dunkin Donuts this morning. We could while away the day up there and then go down to dinner, all smiley.
I wouldn’t be worried about missing the ferry - there’s another one on some other day.
A really good friend of mine died last week - he’s no longer worried at all. At least it’s Spring - still two thirds of the year between us and the dark cold heart.
I’d like to be wrapped in a blanket, with seawater soaking my hair, salt on my face. I’d like to be in some other place.

Writing about writing - August 28, 2022

 

Ahh, this impulse - this desire to take part in the ancient art of stitching words to music and vice versa.

A missed opportunity plants something in your memory the way that a bruised finger remembers a car door.

So here I am, asking what’s the reward for having lived so long now that living involves all these aches and pains. Well maybe the reward is that your fingers still work your ears still hear, and you still remember most of the words maybe the reward is that you’ve found these friends
who lend their fingers and voices to your songs.