After last night’s angst, a lot of things settled today. I sent the test version of the site I’m working on to the server for some user testing on Thursday, and, before I started work, made one decision about the invitations I’ve been dithering over. I wrote an email to turn one down, actually pausing and taking a deep breath before clicking ‘Send’. I then found more details about another, and wrote to the instigator of another invitation that clashed in time with this, someone I hadn’t wanted to let down, telling her I wouldn’t be coming. And when I looked into travel and other arrangements for the thing I’d decided to do, they all seemed to fall into place nicely. Which leaves me time and money to spare, which I can use to give more attention to my recording project. It feels like the grey sky has lifted from my shoulders, having made decisions after months of wobbling. To cap my joy, a new piece of music fell into my guitar and I managed to weld it to some words that have been around for years. I think this may be another ‘Nicole’.
I’m well impressed with the new Paul Simon album. Not just the Eno co-arrangements or Simon’s excellent guitar playing, but his lyrics:
A mother murmurs in twilight sleep and draws her babies closer. With hush-a-byes for sleepy eyes and kisses on the shoulder. To drive away despair, she says a wartime prayer.
I got a call from my broker. My broker informed me I’m broke. I was dealing my last hand of poker. My cards were as useless as smoke …
… I got a call from my broker. The broker said that he was mistaken. Maybe some virus or brokerage joke and he hopes that my faith isn’t shaken.
(I Don’t Believe)
It’s a dead end job and you get tired of sittn’. And it’s like a nicotine habit you’re always thinking about quittin’. I think about quittin’ every day of the week. When I look out my window it’s brown and it’s bleak.
(Once Upon A Time There Was An Ocean)