I just finished singing songs. I was playing for over an hour on new tunes I’ve been carving out over the last few weeks. It’s interesting to reflect on some of this music and feel like it was never actually written, but in fact that it always existed. Of course, this is not the case, but creating a new song can be rather daunting, and going over a half written one can be rough but way less so than looking at a blank page. But once the songs start to take some serious form it’s almost as if they always were. This is a beautiful but occasionally hard feeling to stomach. Arriving at that near finished feeling is so rewarding but it also is scary as it feels so far away whilst writing new stuff. I do know though that it’s possible and I need to continously push forward.

One of the new songs finds me fumbling through ideas and phrases over a dark, quiet movement, and I keep finding myself gravitating towards the line “while falling asleep in my back seat,” and it automatically brings me back to a night in the not too distant past wherein I found myself without a place to stay, in of all areas, NYC/northern jersey. Enough things happened where it was too late or people weren’t answering my calls or roommates wouldn’t let me stay, that i ended up driving all over and eventually pulling behind the music shop where I used to work and putting my back seats down and trying to sleep in the ever warming early summer heat. The thing that most worried me was the temple next door as their staff once threatened to call the police and tow a trailer I’d left for a few days. Luckily i got a few hours of uncomfortable sleep before sun began to bake me and the people driving past me forced me out of dear old sweet pea. A quick covert piss later I was on my way. Seeing as it was about 8 am, way earlier than my standard waking our, i felt immediately productive. By 10 I’d gotten an oil change, cleaned out and organized my entire car, including my serious merch setup, had breakfast and attempted to sell stuff at best buy. It was a wild series of events.

Oddly, I compare this to busking (read: playing on the street for money), in a way. I find the most nerve wracking parts of busking to be the setup and the breakdown. Other than occasionally seeing cops or grounds patrol, I don’t worry or feel intimidated or upset or anything. I have fun and hope it works out. Similarly, when i once slept in the park and broke into a college building to sleep in their lounge, the moments of most hightened fear were pre and post, the obvious discovery moments. But overall, the sleeps and busking were and have been great and it’s interesting that so much anxiety can pervade these mostly harmless actions. However, every time I do something of this nature I feel slightly less scared. I also am fully aware that none of my situations were or are remotely close to those that a homeless person or someone steeped in poverty might experience. I don’t know their troubles and wish them the absolute best in improving their situations. But, I do feel that in some small way that mini fear I experienced might lead me to beginning to understand the life that some face and hopefully allow me to work toward helping them. And at very least, they definitely make me appreciate my home, warm food and friends all the more. I hope you’re warm/cool tonight, among loved ones and feeling amazing. I send my best to all of you.