There is a part of Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes” that seems to seek me out and find me from time to time. It found me just now.
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“Amber” by Christoffer Franzen feels light, like a balloon rising, and feels hopeful, so it belongs here as a spring that feels like a promise unfolds.
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Tracey Chattaway’s “Sailing Home” is one of my new favorites on my 2024 editing playlist. I’m happy to still be here to share it with you.
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Last night amid my awareness to turn back time, I reconnected with a song that says so much to me about how far I’ve come.
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This quote delivered by Philip Seymour Hoffman in his role as rock critic Lester Bangs remains my favorite line from “Almost Famous.”
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This story the day after Nanci Griffith’s death will always be incomplete, because how can I tell you about the 10-year-old friend I never had?
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A tweet and a song last night sent me down memory lane about writing on an unforgiving deadline, and the things our brains do to try to help.
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In which I recall being an insufferable know-it-all about one of my favorite singer-songwriters. A story with a plot twist you’ll no doubt figure out!
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There’s nothing like listening to “September Fifteenth” and remembering being on the road to becoming me — in the driver’s seat, not a passenger.
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What does Elton John’s “Sacrifice” have to do with driving on the hilly streets of San Francisco? Nothing, really, but in one vivid memory, everything.
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