Neurons firing all night, synapse connections keep your eyes on the wheel and your hands upon the road. If you're gonna show up late, at least let it be because of an impromptu tangle with a natural hot spring; not because you wrestled a two hour traffic jam only to end up in Santa Ana.
Last night I felt like someone else was singing songs I barely remember writing. When it was over I felt warm blood on my hands- probably mine, but I felt no pain so it was hard to tell. I sold copies of the new CD, chatted with folks, packed up, drove back to the hotel, fell straight to sleep.
Four and a half hour layover in Phoenix last night. My mind was soft and dirty by the time I got on the plane to Seattle. I'm in some remote part of the hotel, only mildly furious about tour stuff.
I finally saw my first copy of the new record. Enough time has passed so that I could perceive it objectively. Visually, I think it is stunning- especially the way the text and images coincide with the songs.
Bottom line: ALWAYS trust Simon Descendo!!
I've rehearsed a bit and packed up all my equipment so it will fit in a suitcase. I leave in two hours for Seattle, my first show is tomorrow. This tour has been touch and go for a while so it's a relief to actually be stepping out the door. Haven't even started and already I'm reaching for the Advil.
Saw a trailer for a Hollywood disaster film based on 9/11 starring Nicholas Cage. I almost lost my lunch. It never takes us long to make tragedy turn a profit, what did I expect?
If you want a movie about 9/11 check out the documentary of the same name by the French filmmakers Jules and Gedeon Naudet. They happened to be making a film about the NY Fire Department on that fateful day-- it's unbelievable.
The sky is cracked where the trees used to be and the moon is drunk on Wild Turkey. I can remember the last time I looked at the world, through a glass of Coke.
Zippity, there aint a single gold tooth in sight, and not a penny to flip.
Descendants of style rules and cats that prefer to piss in sinks-- sorting through tiny clothes and heaving boxes onto hot parking lots. Looking across the room at a blue cardinal fixed on me. Saving my love for thee.
Electricity glowing through haunted bones, like the moon carves its way between the stones
I haven't touched a guitar in a fortnight, but I've done it long enough so that the rust can shake off in an hour or two.
In the direction of the vanity mirror, I faced. For the first time in weeks. My face was dirty and it looked like I had been crying. I sat down and drew a map of the Middle East, to the best of my knowledge, by connecting the cracks in the pavement.
"Your work is really piling up on you, you son of a bitch!" I used to say that to people as a joke and now I'm living it fo realz-like. Who's laughing now, huh?
It's humid here, and steamy from the rain. I could probably find other things to write about than the weather but I'm one of those guys who can watch the weather channel for hours.
Otherwise, I do chores and find a creative outlet in crude, barbaric HTML.
Went to see Dead Sea at Surly Girl last night- shredding. Smitty has the best attitude. The night before I saw Teeth Of The Hydra at Carabar, blew my socks off. Wish Dead Child could get a gig with them here...
