And then it bloomed

After tending to the old shack, I told the pirates they could raid my kitchen. I hid the dog and went out in the Scandanavian rain for a hint of something dull. With an aching head I returned to the rusty lock, restored the dog and fed the kitchen.


Early morning haze

This is a good environment for reading and practicing guitar at 6am. I indulge this isolation by working as hard as possible. But, when time isn't tugging my pant leg, I let the mornings unfold at their own pace.


After a while I stopped bothering

To open the curtains. What was the point? There was nothing out there I cared about. And certainly there was nothing in here to see.


8-string Guitar

Finally I have the tool needed to get started on my next record! Can't wait for Teeth of the Hydra tomorrow, those guys slay.


I will have something to show for it.

I spend at least an hour here everyday, usually a couple of them. Running through scales and exercises, trying to nail the problems to the floor. To regain strength.



Got in my work clothes and spent the weekend throwing out the unflattering parts of my history. It was a cold, sunny day in Kentucky but I didn't see it. I did find an old camcorder and watched some of the funniest Papa M footage I've ever seen. I wouldn't say I was innocent then. But it was a naive and beautiful time before I met certain people I eventually despised.

I also found:

- an amazing David Berman poem in an old issue of The Minus Times
- Yngwie Malmsteen guitar tab/cd
- a photo of me on tour in England without front teeth


Fazing into 2008

I see the holes where the night was once stitched together. Its going to blow out this year- in light and love.