The Visit
August 30, 2009
I need to take a moment to thank you, fleeting muse that flew into my apartment tonight at 1 a.m. You shed some light on an idea that clearly demanded your touch as the final in a list of strange ingredients – a walk into unknown neighborhoods of Berkeley on Saturday evening, a video of John Frusciante playing his melancholy two-note chords, a couple Advil and the headache they couldn’t relieve. Everything in the pot, and I’ve got the best song I’ve written in three years. Thank you for visiting me when I needed you. Thank you for reminding me that sight reading, Slowhand fingers and pretty boy good looks be damned, I can still write to save my life, to make my life.
Big changes are on the way, and I’m cautious but happy. And after spending nearly a decade as a songwriter, I’m finally in a place where I’m unwaveringly, defiantly confident. This is going to happen. No more rest stops along the way. I’m all peed out.
NV
i love when that happens. and i’m so glad you paid attention to your muse when she/he/it came knockin and needing to be heard. can’t wait to hear the product of the visit!