so much happening, so many goddam songs i want to record but can't find the motivation (yet).. a beautiful new home & immense peace in the the interpersonal distance of solitude.

i feel like a dumb dreamer of 10 or 11.

[india lima oscar victor echo delta yankee oscar uniform]

beneath the throne of god subtle sighs singe a silent sky
through which drifts a post-full hazen moon
save your breath & desire
set my house on fire

all things go, all in time. i needed this space, i am adoring it.
i just overcame a litany of fears & am still processing the last several weeks despite being right back to work & feeling like it was all a blurred photograph of a painting of someone else's dream.
the calendar seems like a joke.

i'm in love with everything all over again, & it took falling out of love to do so.. portland is absurdly verdant & aromatic, just the eden i remember it being.
it's a valuable thing, being able to keep oneself busy & entertained.

the last 8 days have been strangely long but not ungood, no certainly not;
i got blackout drunk on the 4th & this girl convinced me to do a show at her house later this month,
at one point adam forkner burled into my house, picked up my guitar & spontaneously started playing 'shine' by collective soul (??),
i got sunburned while sitting & letting the ocean pray for me,
windy & i played a nice little set for a nice little crowd,
& i appear to be living in a dreamworld of some sort, where it's constantly 73 and sunny.
what is this place?

somehow i get through life doing what feels like absolutely nothing.
& somehow i end up being able to say things like, "the girl i love, who works for mtv arabia, is using her ridiculous salary to fly me to barcelona for my birthday so she & i can tour antonio gaudí's architecture and have authentic catalan cuisine."
and thanks to portland metro's new non-stop service, that part of the trip will be bookended by a day or two in amsterdam.
god or whatever is way too nice to me sometimes, like suspiciously so.
but that's not a complaint, ahaha.

suddenly everything is ridiculous and good, thanks jesus or whatever:
one, i got a job at a really excellent little restaurant in my neighborhood
two, i finished my album, which will look like this & be out in october on kranky
three, i am in love
four, honey's store is gonna host a photography exhibit by yours truly next month
five, the drummer of slowdive asked me to do a remix thing for his new band that is turning out really well
six, some people are going to fly me to mexico & pay me to score some kinda live dance piece later this year, i'm thinking harmonium & harmonica (maximum harm)
also, nathan barley is the best show in the history of television

this new movie 'meet the spartans', even judging by the ads, offends every sensibility that i possess, artistic or otherwise; what a massive waste of time & energy for all involved. i weep for this world, which descends into its own mire (thick enough to float a fucking nail, no doubt) with blinders on..this evisceration of culture is only a tiny symptom, & funny that it takes a shit movie to get me so upset about things that are in fact so much more significant. well done, hollywood.

on the other hand, my cloistered life is pretty damned perfect at the moment. home was a reminder of all the love by which i'm surrounded, even at a distance, & i remain set on reciprocating every last scrap of it that i can.
xx

"what's this all about now?"
"what's all this about then?"
all questions in..
some answers out of..
how many?
dollarbin records & counting on the fingers upward from 1976.
as i lean over, my hood collapses a little & bristles on my neck, warmly.
it distracted me from saying,
"i can't take my eyes off your eyes,"
but i thought you'd wanna know all the same.

the kindly king she came (in name) spewing wordsworth, all prosaic in poem & shout-spouting 'we murder to dissect!'
oh haven't you heard!
they only just killed a four hundred year old clam in the north pacific, the oldest known living thing.
the news said it'd have been alive to see debuts of shakespeare plays & the like.
or, i suppose, on any given morning, a sunrise..
i think those are probably at least a few centuries old, no?
what a life for this clam to lead!
picture him at all the significant events in recent world history..
what if this creature was the guiding hand!!
and it's dead..
will the politics of the globe, all puffed up to maximum tension & artifice, finally deflate?
will a stubborn white president understand what it means that the money for the war we're in,
could have been slightly better spent on five thousand state-of-the-art high schools?
or 2 years of free gas for every american? (just what we need!!)
or food & clothes for nearly all the world's poor?
no, likely no, it was just a clam, but triumphant in its own stubborn way,
til someone on a ship, a fleck compared even to the beast itself, decided, 'i want to see what it looks like inside'.
& oh, curiosity killed the clam.
the four hundred year old clam.
who happens to know, unlike you or i ever shall, what it's like to see four hundred years.
but is still a fleck himself.

last night riding to nat's, i watched the cyclist directly in front of me blow a red light on north williams & get annihilated by a car going ~35 miles an hour. i rode over to help, he stood up utterly dazed, saying he'd zoned out..the driver spoke no english but appeared to be complaining about his shattered windshield while i, in my limited knowledge of treating shock, made the biker sit down & kept him engaged til the ambulance got there almost a half hour later. shortly he began complaining about leg pain, & i said if that's the worst of it you're lucky, as he hadn't even worn a helmet. i can't find any news stories about it this morning, but i'm gonna assume for my own sanity that he'll be ok. i suppose this makes me a bit more of a portlander, seeing the ass end of bike culture like that..otherwise LIFE'S GREAT! yep that part's true as well; all these things happen, always. oh & the new album's just about done too.