Insomnia post: The only real news here is the gig bag I bought for my guitar, thanks to kind people. It has purple butterflies on it.
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De-escalate all conflict that isn’t with the enemy. De-escalate all conflict that isn’t with the enemy. De-escalate all conflict that …
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For the first time since 1981, I bought a guitar. Just now I got word it’s all set for me to try to play. Wish me luck. It’s been a minute.
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Don Draper, Peggy Lee, Dad and me and how a song reappeared in my life 10 years ago. And reappeared again.
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I still can’t handle much right now, and something tells me I am going to need every ounce of energy I can muster for whatever’s next.
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I went out Sunday and took photos of trees against sunny skies, and then I saw this under my apartment window. It reminded me of a song.
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This post ties together two recent posts, one that mentions Judee Sill and one about a case/lang/veirs song that marked a special gift.
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Three years ago today I rode a train to Tacoma to pick up an incredible gift, one that made continuing to have a semblance of a life possible.
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There are too many places for my addled brain to land as pieces of memories of Souther and his music float back to me today.
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