these flowers

i can't stop listening to martha

i wanna be like that
i wanna be like that

last night met up with jess and mike (lovely as ever, as mentioned below) at zesty's for the unsweetened (and unspoken) open mic. ms spelt featured and we folded paper and napkins into lilies and roses. michael regaled the most excellent time t.o.f.u. had and made in dawson - it is not surprising at all that those boys were the best thing there. too tired for it, i went to the brickhouse anyway afterwards (afterwards anyway?) and then drove them all home. it was a week ago i dropped off michael matthew at the same place, in front of the park on prior, pulled over in my little 'orange blast' rental car. and in this week i have both day dreamed and wondered about timing, choices, and the lessons people teach us. monday i cried about all of those things at denise's little round table - she kept getting up to get a kleenex, and eventually just brought the box over. how do we heal? by digging up roots she tells me. i'd like to just chop down the tree and leave the roots buried underground. i don't think we always have to know where things come from. and i don't think there is one great love, i think there are many - it's just that we choose one, and keep choosing the same one, ideally. but with choice, there is sometimes loss. and so i wonder.

i helped diederik buy his one-way ticket to holland yesterday. he leaves in 4 weeks. it's so real now. i can't think about it much yet. dear august 24th - please take your time. i'm in no hurry to greet you.

don't call me brave yet, i'm still in the thick of it

i know why this is where i'm at
i asked for this - i remember that
i know that i don't get to blame you
though i'd like to
i want to scream and cry
"you were so unfair, you were so unkind"
but the truth is all that shit was mine

nothing's changed -
i'll just push you away and then complain
i will make my bed with these dirty sheets
and then damn you for not laying with me

let's have a laugh at me
and my bad poetry
buy the first song - the rest are free
even then i could make you a deal
give it all up for something real
none of this late night low light pondering anonymity
i'd give it all up for a garden blossoming propinquity

nothing's changed

what i saw in you was you seeing me
we can't have that, now can we
and what i saw in you was you leaving me
'cause of course you will, someday, eventually
every good thing must come to an end
and every strong thing bends
let's just hope we mend

nothing's changed
i'll just push you away and then complain
i will make my bed with these dirty sheets
and then damn you for not laying with me
damn you

every time

i'm standing on the sidewalk
clutching chalk in my hand
and i'm throwing these boys
on to my game of hopscotch
which ones will i jump off
and where will i land

connect the dots

friday night at the folk fest, pippa, liv and i missed t.o.f.u. we were most disheartened. we were busy having the best grilled chesse san and our choice of soup at burgoo - and i mean best ever. not that it was worth it, because truly those boys are beauty in so many ways and how magnificent they must have been on the mainstage. but, happily, i caught them the next day with geoff berner and fruit, though pip and liv will have to wait until next time.

tardy arrival aside, elephant ear in hand, we sat on the fancy blanket and listened to buck 65 kick ass and feist slowly warm the audience to a simmer. before her performance, she backed away from us on the yellow plywood path and advised "just connect the dots, be where you heart tells you to be". these sage and vague words became the weekend's response to, and reason for, almost everything, as we found it most amusing.

saturday started early. i stepped out under the grey with blanket over one arm, coffee mug in hand, and big bag of sunscreen, raincoat, change of shoes and shirt over the other arm to discover my van alske had been stolen. again. i am going to leave a note on my window - if you need a ride, just tap on the window, i'd be happy to take you. why bother busting the lock and cutting the steering wheel? we could both save time... sigh... alske has since been found, without my sunglasses and favourite beach blanket. at least this time they did not take my handicap parking thing. people. honestly.

once the report was filed, i put away thoughts of theft and looked ahead to the sun smothered weekend of the festival. which was delicious. and the saturday and sunday parties both were highly enjoyable. mike mcgee is my new favourite person, and jess hill only gets more lovely and likeable as time goes on. sometimes i feel like an imposter - they are so talented, they are so busy, and i'm reminded that i need to practice guitar more. jess' mom drove us home, circuitous down broadway and through downtown before heading east, swinging through wendy's for salty fries which were quickly devoured in the backseat. jess drunk, me drunk, mike between us, i was dropped off at home for 3 hours of sleep before heading to work. i was in rough shape, but with a happy post fest glow.

it's wednesday now and i think i'm just starting to catch up on sleep. how quickly it's lost, how slowy it's recovered...

stuck

since to my last post, i've had aaron english songs firmly rooted in my brain and tripping out of my mouth. "oooooooooooooh woman what can iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii do". so good. that is mixed (oh dj) with lines from one of diederilk's songs. poor lad, how i butcher his lyrics, skipping from one verse to the next and back...

thanks to joe dolce's newsletter, yesterday i read this. incredible to imagine these creatures are disintigrating below the sea and here i sit typing under a skylight. what a world.

the edge of the world music festival

it felt like i'd been gone for days. this is due, perhaps, to the modes of travel. van to the airport, the small plane to masset, the bus down to tlell, all of us musicians pulling our gear in the the pouring rain. by the evening walk on the beach, it was hard to imagine i lived in a city, or even had ever seen one much less been in vancouver that morning. a transporting experience.

the festival was fantastic. big barrels of gratitude to frank, jason, and everyone who put it together, kept me dry and warm, fed, and musically satiated. the hightlight, truly, was the aaron english band. the music and the lovely people who make up the band - big big love friends, big big love. patrick - let me know when you've built your commune, i will come plant potatoes.