Started my day with costa rican coffee and pancakes. Soon after begun rifling through the folds of the internet.. it's the new morning paper. I feel as though I'm so out of touch before I check my gmail account and update our facebook page. Is that sad? Or just normal by today's standards. Should we live by today's standards? Well here I go, nonetheless.
I'm ready for spring. The world is slowly catching up. There's a patch of grass starting to grow in the filthy, empty lot outside my kitchen window! And my "trees" are starting to bud in front of my building, under the BQE. City life. Can't let it get me down. Just when I'm ready for the springtime to bring the beauty back, I'll try not to focus on the dirt.
Oh, but I like the dirt. I suppose there are too many kinds to generalize in this way. I like the deep, dark, wet dirt that makes stuff grow. I like the kind of dirt that they have to censor on tv. I like the dirt that clings to your hands and under your fingernails after hard work. And the red dirt that will never be removed from my cowboy boots. Thank you, Sedona.
Yes, these things make me smile. Happy as a pig in shit, right? Like a catskill girl in the mud, like a bird in dirt. Smiles.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Dirty Work
Started in the hallways of the Halcottsville General Store. Playing an out-of-tune upright that had not been moved since 1992. Jackson played mandolin, sometimes we had a fiddler; Most times we had a few stragglers from neighboring towns drinking beer.
And it was always summer. Our jobs seemed like just another way to pass the days til we could be playing music. I guess they were. In the city, the same sort of work seems so much more laborious. Because it's even more fun when we get to play music now. We've gathered pebbles and created a big ol' rock of a band. It's not just that out-of-tune piano anymore. And Jackson's learned to play the harmonica. But my favorite songs are still born of that house. Everytime we go home for one celebration or another, a new and dirtier song is written. Last Christmas it was 'Baby from Space.' This Christmas it was 'Pound of Dirt.' I guess a home never loses it's magic.
And we've started a new one here in Brooklyn. I've got myself a brand new old out-of-tune piano. And she's a beauty. Takes up most of the living room. Perfect.
The beginning is something to be savored. The Dirty Birds and I have a year under our belt here in New York. We're just getting started, for sure. It seems like we've already been through so much. Everyday brings a new cage to be opened. We've gnawed our way out of a few so far... but we can never stop. When pursuing what you were born to do, you can never give up. I've come to realize how easy it is to distract oneself without being aware you're doing it. I used to get swept away with lovers and jobs, daydreams and boats, lovers and whiskey. But you have to run with your youth. It always feels like getting stuck on the business end of a giant wave. You have to let it take you- you have to give in to it. You'll come out the other side laughing, panting. Sometimes choking.. mostly smiling. And you've regained the trust you once lost in yourself. And shit that feels good.
And it was always summer. Our jobs seemed like just another way to pass the days til we could be playing music. I guess they were. In the city, the same sort of work seems so much more laborious. Because it's even more fun when we get to play music now. We've gathered pebbles and created a big ol' rock of a band. It's not just that out-of-tune piano anymore. And Jackson's learned to play the harmonica. But my favorite songs are still born of that house. Everytime we go home for one celebration or another, a new and dirtier song is written. Last Christmas it was 'Baby from Space.' This Christmas it was 'Pound of Dirt.' I guess a home never loses it's magic.
And we've started a new one here in Brooklyn. I've got myself a brand new old out-of-tune piano. And she's a beauty. Takes up most of the living room. Perfect.
The beginning is something to be savored. The Dirty Birds and I have a year under our belt here in New York. We're just getting started, for sure. It seems like we've already been through so much. Everyday brings a new cage to be opened. We've gnawed our way out of a few so far... but we can never stop. When pursuing what you were born to do, you can never give up. I've come to realize how easy it is to distract oneself without being aware you're doing it. I used to get swept away with lovers and jobs, daydreams and boats, lovers and whiskey. But you have to run with your youth. It always feels like getting stuck on the business end of a giant wave. You have to let it take you- you have to give in to it. You'll come out the other side laughing, panting. Sometimes choking.. mostly smiling. And you've regained the trust you once lost in yourself. And shit that feels good.
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