Moving On

Rain is pouring down this Friday morning on the lovely block full of brownstones, just east of Frederick Douglass Blvd, where I live with three cats and a dog. Although, it seems to be slowing down now. I should take Doe out before it starts up again. She wants something, but it could be just to play. This little dog would like one hundred percent of my attention, so sometimes I have to pretend I don’t hear her pleading.

I’ve been busy with good stuff. A call from a new music house (new to me — because I’m new to working with any music house), led to a couple of days of frenzied writing and recording. I love working this way. It’s fun to have a certain criteria one is trying to meet. I find my creativity is always stoked by that and then having to meet a deadline provides another kind of excitement. I’m really made for this work and hope there will be more of it.

Tomorrow I have to go to the North Fork to check on the house and take care of a few things. We’ve lowered the price yet again, but if it doesn’t sell within the next month or so, I intend to rent it.

Doe has been better. She’s on so many drugs and holistic remedies, it isn’t funny. Yesterday, I took one of her pills. It was an anti-nausea thing. I’d been thinking I should take an allergy pill and somehow my brain turned off for a second and I was washing down her pill with a bottle of water before I realized what I was doing.. Oh, she’s barking.. Better take her out.

Ok, back again.. The sun seems to be breaking through. Is anyone reading this, I wonder? Facebook has taken away the need for blogging and the need for reading blogs. But I’ve been blogging since before blogs, since this was an “online journal.” My need to do it seems to continue, somehow. So, where was I?

D is dead to me. I’ve decided that’s the only thing that will truly end it. Being “friends” is impossible at this point. It’s too unclear. The boundaries are always being broken and I’m always needing clarification. I find myself wishing he would be struck by lightening every time he utters a certain phrase about how he’s “moved on.” So, better to have him not exist at all.  When I think of him, I remind myself, he’s dead to me, and “move on” to another thought.

The new workshop begins on Monday night and I’m looking forward to it. I’m inspired by working with other songwriters. It’s always surprising and meaningful. Often I think of something Adam Duritz said to me. I’m sure I’ve written it here before at some point. When I told him I was teaching songwriting, he said, somewhat sarcastically, “How do you do that?! Say ‘do it better’?”

But, there’s a lot to do that helps people write better songs. Sometimes just having a place to write and be listened to is all someone needs. Or sometimes, a simple suggestion will open doors for a writer. It’s hard to see ourselves. A small, objective insight can go along way.. So the workshops are great and fruitful and I love doing them. This will be my first in NYC and I’m especially excited. The group assembled is wonderfully diverse and talented.

Today, it’s errands to run and I’m still trying to get a good performance of “How to Save Life.” I’ve been working on it for a couple of weeks now, but haven’t gotten one I’m happy with yet.

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4 Responses to Moving On

  1. sealarson says:

    How come your entries always seem so melancholy? Breakups, the rain, sick animals; it can get depressing. I’m glad your new workshop has you jazzed up. And btw, I read your entries all the time.
    I can remember hearing you for the first time. I had just picked up, “This is how it feels” on a whim. I was immediately taken by your voice. I was about to take a road trip and went to the music store to get some new music to listen to and now that I knew who you were, I looked for you there. Luckily, “Everything I Touch Runs Wild” had recently been released and I snagged a copy.
    I remember driving at dusk and popping in your CD and just becoming memorized by it. It played over and over though the night and it just felt so perfect. That record has gained a permanent place in my top 10 favorite albums. Since then, I’ve purchased everything you’ve done.
    Just thought I’d share that with you. Still waiting/hoping for a new CD in the future. In the meantime, I’m always here reading.

  2. LT says:

    I’ve said before that I greatly enjoy reading what you write. I think of facebook as something that’s probably pretty private where this is where you can share with people you don’t really know and I look forward to it. Your thoughts on the new music house and other people’s criteria and the workshop are, I think, very closely related. During creative exploration, our minds are more likely to travel familiar roads of thought. Even when we aim for something new, new perspecitves on tried and fully discovered ideas eventually run out. Workshops and compulsory assignments are not a place for “do that think you always do”. Involving other people can’t help but broaden your creative landscape. As a side note, I think “Twisting My Words” is the single most endearing song I’ve heard.

  3. PE says:

    I’m not much of a demographic but I read all your entries. What I love about your journal here are the same things I love about your songs.. your honesty, your sense of detail. I like facebook but you can’t express yourself there like you express yourself here.

    I wish I wrote songs so I could attend your workshop. I’ve led many writing (not song) workshops myself and I’ve had many returnees because in the words of one I work hard to keep them “non-toxic.” I believe an environment where everyone is recognizing the individuality and value of each individual writer can create a very powerful force that can propel everyone forward. (It’s hard to write in a vacuum. It just is.)

  4. Mikul says:

    It’s not all melancholy. Rain is a solace. It quiets the world inside and, blessedly, the world outside as well. Sometimes, in that quiet place, people can find some clarity of thought that lets them set their course again.

    The rest of Lori’s post is hopeful and clear: she’s taking control of the pain that’s in her life and passing through it. A truly sad post would leave her wallowing in pain and suffering with no hope or worse, desire to leave it.

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