In the beginning of any conversation, or song, or journey, or phone-call, or visit; there always is this moment that crystallizes away from all subsequent ones. The one laden with the sensual weight of both hesitation & haste... where you know what comes next will carry gravity enough to centrifuge your self. Or the other.
That moment is universal & shared & whored, yet is personal, private & indiscriminately intimate. Like the back-board of your closet against which you press your secrets. Covered by the barrage of fabric twisted and turned intricate by collapsing blows of discreet criminality. The one that peers through all of our souls, and gazes endlessly out of your offending eyes.
That moment is what I try to marinate my words & songs into.
That moment is universal & shared & whored, yet is personal, private & indiscriminately intimate. Like the back-board of your closet against which you press your secrets. Covered by the barrage of fabric twisted and turned intricate by collapsing blows of discreet criminality. The one that peers through all of our souls, and gazes endlessly out of your offending eyes.
That moment is what I try to marinate my words & songs into.
Fin.
p.s. trying out the new mp3 player i embedded. These tracks remain on heavy rotation in my car these days:
The Stills - Everything I Build
Jack's Mannequin - Cell Phone
Sparkadia - Too Much To Do
p.s. trying out the new mp3 player i embedded. These tracks remain on heavy rotation in my car these days:
The Stills - Everything I Build
Jack's Mannequin - Cell Phone
Sparkadia - Too Much To Do
1 comment:
so that's how YOU make songs!!!!
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