revel in the sun.

a father, perhaps the best one in the world, sitting on a couch in canada, safe from the cold that attacks his bones. lit by the light of a lamp that has lit others in this same spot, on this same couch. he is indeed the king. having received his first social security check yesterday, we celebrated. we sang and laughed and we ate and drank. this, this life of his, is something to be proud of. a wife, standing in the cold of the mudroom, blowing her warm breath into the air. warm breath that looked beautiful in the light, but does not exist here on this filmless photo. the bright sun, rising up from the white snow, and breaking the glass of the window. a father, taking a picture of a son and his wife, while the son photographs him. the mother, obscured by his arm. a mother and a father, again protected by heat, standing at the wall above a fireplace, looking stoic. a week of family. the california folks, shuddering in the teeth of such brisk air.

and today, we drive said parents to the airport and begin our own journey. ithaca. new york. aside form the obvious {the gates} we will also be stopping by a bird store. a paper store. some restaurants and cafes. on my list, as silly as it may seem, i want to go see cafe sine, the place where it all exploded for jeff buckley. for some reason, i've never been there while in the city. i know it's a dive. i want to get lost in greewich village, and stay out far too late, drinking a bit too much wine. there will be a visit to andy goldsworthy's wall in the countryside, and there will be meetings with people we love. this i believe, is the most important part. the fact that randi will be there. that keri and i will get to spend some time with reid. after so many years, it is truly a gift to spend time with a man you hardly ever see, but miss quite a bit. this growing up business, and finding ourselves so far apart, seems so complicated sometimes. makes me long for gradeschool. wishing mike was here to make the drive with us. the antics of a roadtrip. but such is life. we grow and grow apart. the world is an enormous place, and we all spread our wings. we go to the places we are called. we listen to the voices. all of them. those that shout, and those that whisper.

right now they say to me, "go jefferson. shower. play your guitar for a bit. make another cup of tea. brush your teeth. revel, in the sun that has arrived for the day."

14 in 17.

trees looming. claiming all of the space that they can, covered in snow. it seems fitting, that the snow came, and came hard with the end of this record i've been making. me. unshaven. lit by sun. in the studio, after working all day. one eye, bright. two guitars, a pedalboard, and an amp. cables on the wall. thermarests to the left. my god, how i long to sleep out in the woods, with spring around me. the warm air on my skin. more trees. the exact trees i look at while sitting on that stool making music. they own this place right now. up, in the top right corner of the photo which looks almost as black and white as the others, blue sky. this world of white could suffocate. perhaps it does. perhaps that's why i made such a quiet record. made, being the operative word.

yes, dear reader, i am indeed done. fin. the end. an amazingly interesting process for me, to force a song out every day, some of them much more willingly than others. some of them, tumbling out like water, and others like stones. my own teeth perhaps. the everpresent battle with my voice, at times loving it, and at times hating it so vehemently. anyway, the time comes to let go, and put it all to sleep. for today, is the day that parents arrive. the day that keri and i drive to toronto, and sit in a teashop. the day that we wander a bookstore for a while. the day that i don't play guitar. anyway, i fully intend to put all of the songs up here on the site, with some artwork so that you may download them, print if you wish, and assemble yourself a cd. of course, if you simply cannot wait, the songs are still up at FAWM . if you can't find my name, go to "team 2005" and seek me out there. 14 songs in 17 days. one day off. what a ride.

his own shadow

an old tree, its tips covered in white ice, above a blue sky, above a green house, above a ground covered in snow. a wife, a beautiful one, standing in the woods, surrounded by winter. a tree branch, bare and exposed against the white, freed by the melting of a warm week. a leaf, wrapped around a tree, holding on tightly. warm. a mixing board, with a guitar that i love. a man, in a studio, in the middle of february, frantically making a record. his own shadow, on the back wall.

song ten, complete. on some level, i have no idea what to make of this thing.

watering out like a river

and the february record continues its heavy-footed, light-hearted, stumbling, falling, tripping and getting up, rolling about, and running, sprinting really, and strolling, and seeking and searching, and gentle snowwalking. moving anyway. though the songs may not sound or feel all that lighthearted {do the songs i write ever sound or feel lighthearted?} this process has been amazing thus far. overflowing with joy. that sounds so stupid and cliche, but really, i mean it. a man hollering now and then, excited about things coming together, if ever so quickly.

the above photo was taken yesterday at around five in the evening, just before i began writing the song. light coming in through the windows. the warmth of it on my skin. though one would assume that this procees all feels terribly fast, in contrast, it does not. it certainly feels focused, but somehow slow-moving. i find it infinitely interesting as i watch the songs unravel, come tumbling out of me, some more gracefully than others. yesterday for example, was a beast, with many versions recorded, before i finally set up one mic on the guitar and one on my voice at midnight. recorded it live. so if you go listen, you might imagine sitting in some dimly lit cafe of nightclub, as the new day turns, listening to me sing. move the fingers.

what i've found most difficult about this project, is that when i feel inspired, and things are falling out of me, watering out like a river, i can write song after song, day after day, and find myself entirely satisfied with them. but this is different, as i am effectively forcing them out. trying to go inside and gently coax them at first, and then finally, at midnight for example, pulling them by their entrails. anything, anyhow. this serves to leave me frustrated and somewhat dissatisfied with the material, but then such is the process. perhaps this is entirely what it is about. making a record full of songs that i like, but do not love. then again, if being honest, i rarely love anything that i do as an artist, for much longer than a day or so. i seem to recall someone {robert altman?} saying that if we are ever satisfied with our work as an artist, that we have just died, for what else moves us onward, but our own disatisfaction? {to paraphrase}

so today, another. the goal today is simply to finish before the sun falls. to sit outside {it has been unseasonably warm here for days} and read, on the porch, in the sun, watching for birds in the trees. black squirrels.

"above all else, it is about leaving a mark that i existed: i was here. i was hungry. i was defeated. i was happy. i was sad. i was in love. i was afraid. i was hopeful. i had an idea and i had a good purpose and that's why i made works of art."

~felix gonzales-torres

the february record

A maddening rush of recording. Nothing new I guess, just different this time. I confess, before really even getting started, that this will be short; I have a song to write and record. Needless to say, all is going relatively well I suppose. I have successfully written and recorded three songs in three days. While I’m not terribly pleased with either the songwriting or the production, that is after all, a part of this process. A process of letting go. A process of immediacy. Many lessons lying herein. I can feel it.

Anyway, I carry on. Today it will be song four. I’ve concluded that the learning curve with digital performer {the recording software I’m using} indeed moves upward, but is also a very steep hill. Very steep. I’m beginning to feel a bit embarrassed each time I call Christian. There have been MANY calls to Christian.

Last night though, time was made for a film. On the couch, by the fire. “Nowhere in Africa.” A brilliant film, with some of the more stunning photography I’ve seen in some time. One of those films that lives outside the boundaries of time.

And back to the songs. Again, if you wish to follow along, go to FAWM and seek my name. The songs and words about them are there. I’m thinking that when the dust settles, I’ll post them all on the site here with some artwork for people to download. Yes. The February record. The fast, fast, February record.

fawm. {or, a black hole}

For some reason, perhaps simply my nature, i have decided to immerse myself in this task called the "february album writing month," {fawm}. late monday night, christian sent me an email about the project, which immediately ran shivers through the spine. ironically, i had just hung up the phone with him, as i was in the midst of attempting to FINALLY use my new recording equipment for the first time. suffice it to say, without christian's help, none of this would be happening. the tascam would sit in the same place it has sat for some time now, covered by that thin, ancient looking, indian cloth. a shiva.

anyway, the project was inspired by nanowrimo which is essentially the same thing with writing. one writes a novel in a month. so, the idea here is that one writes {and records} a record in a month. beautiful no? i love the degree to which one must move quickly, and stay raw. the honesty. i would love to re-track the vocals and one of the guitar parts i did yesterday, but frankly, do not have the time.

needless to say, i've had mixed feelings about it, for several reasons. the first, being the fact that i have many other things to work on right now, and a diversion, feels like, well, a diversion. secondly, while i did complete the writing and recording of a song yesterday, including cardboard box drumming, paintbrush brushing on wood, and thumb tapping, i have, as of yet, been incapable of figuring out how to mix the fucker, and convert it to an mp3, so that i can upload it to the website. this really only serves to complicate matters, as i need to be writing and recording this morning, rather than trying to untie these technical knots. the other problem {if we can call it that} is the fact that i am supposed to write and record fourteen songs this month. fine. one song completed every other day right? not in my case. my parents arrive for a visit on the 17th, and the day they leave, keri and i drive to manhattan. so essentially, i have seventeen days to write and record fourteen songs.

all that said, i find the project too compelling to ignore. and of course, i have some experience with this. though we added things to "i am not in spain," all of the initial songwriting and recording was done from a thursday to a sunday night, as i sat in a cold house by myself. a process {or black hole perhaps} that i found immeasurably interesting.

hopefully {fingers crossed} i will succeed in getting my song posted to the site today. i figure if nothing else, this project will force me to learn some tricks with the new machine. as i have no monitor speakers, and no money for monitor speakers, i suggest that if you listen to the mixes, you do so on headphones, for that's all i got. lastly, obvoiusly, i invite you all to follow the process. the progress, or lack thereof. and if any of you feel so compelled, registration is open until february sixth.

to the races, as they say.