This May I began a new season of musical journal entries. I'm drawn to picking up the guitar and recording myself making up words as I move my hand up and down the neck of my guitar, strumming out moments of where I was at various times.
I am not capable of writing songs. I tried to do this summer, but that's now how I'm built musically. I have to trick myself in order to let myself go, and the only way I can do that is to have an open microphone and a recording device. Something happens in those moments, and I transform into something a little less retiring.
I do hope I can find collaborators to help me harness this, so I'm going to post this noise. This is slightly edited from a recording I did in my kitchen when my children were at my house. Themes include the usual questions I have about this life I seem to be living.
Striking down the mundane and dastardly while retaining a certain obscure turn of phrase, denoting something elusive yet concrete.
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Thoughts between Orange and Culpeper
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