Sweep it.

Why did John Mayer have to ruin Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin'”? Why? It ain’t right, man. There need to be consequences. He should be tied to a random streetlight and spanked with a piece of asparagus until he weeps with shame, or something similarly humiliating and ridiculous.

In less disturbing news, my piano will be here on Wednesday. This is not a picture of my personal piano, but it’ll give you a good idea of what it looks like until I can take my own pictures.

It’s the sexiest upright I’ve ever played, and I spent a good chunk of time with it yesterday to be sure I didn’t feel like I was settling for less than what I really wanted by not getting a grand piano. I think when an instrument inspires you to play some chords you’ve never thought to mess around with before and the seed of a new song is born without any effort on your part, it’s a good sign. I can’t get over how good the higher register sounds. There’s none of the plinky quality you get from some uprights as you near the top of the keyboard. Just sweetness all around. There’s even a practice pedal for late night playing, which I think is pretty neat. Brace yourselves for some piano-heavy song action, a bit of which might show up here within the next week or two.

For the past few weeks I’ve kind of been back where I was before THE CHICKEN ANGEL WOMAN came tumbling out, unsure of what to focus on. There are enough songs and projected albums to keep me busy for at least the next few years. Picking something to focus on and motivating myself to do the work is the problem.

I think this piano will give me a much-needed kick in the ass, just like the 1932 Regal guitar and that quirky Teisco electric did a few months ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if a whole album of piano songs comes pouring out. It’s probably time for the instrument to have its revenge after how heavy the last CD was on things with strings. Still need to break in some of that scrap metal percussion too. I’m not sure how well the R88 ribbon mic will do on the piano, since I can’t play with the positioning of it much to accommodate different instruments, but we’ll soon find out.

Four days! FOUR DAYS until it gets here! Excitement.


  1. the piano looks beautiful. i’m sure it will be a wonderful addition to your home. for me, i find comfort in things relating to writing like books, paper, stationery… People don’t seem to see the artist in me, but writing is where i like to be creative. Maybe it’s because I don’t share it with others.

    Photography is also a passion, but has since gone dark and cold over the past 2 years. I hope to bring that passion back to life soon since i miss being creative. Photography for me has always been about being creative, so i look forward to embracing it once again.


    i think that’s the nicest-looking upright piano i’ve ever seen, so if yours looks like that, well… upright piano smoo to the max.
    excitement indeed!

  3. Thank ye all! I keep forgetting how soon it’s coming, because I kind of got used to having a digital piano and the idea that I wouldn’t ever have a real one.

    And I have a similar thing with writing-related things, even though I don’t seem to write much these days outside of music…I have this odd compulsion to buy composition books whenever I find some that are interesting. I must have at least thirty of them now, if not more, of all shapes and sizes. Some are leather-bound, some are hardcover books, some have in-bound ribbon bookmarks. I find them all incredibly interesting to look at, and it’s inspiring to think about filling them up. And yet I never write in any of them, and the few times I’ve tried I end up ripping out the pages because the words don’t seem worthy of the book.

    I did fill up a book once to send to someone in Montreal. It was her idea that we each fill a book for the other person and then send it off to them in the mail. But when my book for her was finished she wouldn’t give me her address. I think I asked her for it about a dozen times over a period of several months, to no avail. So it’s been sitting in the sock drawer of my dresser for well over two years now.

    I suppose I should make use of some of the books I’ve stocked up on eventually…I’m just not a diary/journal-keeping kind of person, unless it’s something I’m writing for someone else.

  4. i always dream of finding someones old journals online to purchase or in a garage sale. often i’ve thought of selling off my own, like anais nin did but i can’t seem to part with them. i’ve been writing into journals since i was in grade school, but all those got burned in my 20s due to depression. i still have all mine from 1995 or so, to the current day. quite a few of them, and i spent much of this year scanning them and turning each journal into a PDF. in case there’s ever a fire.

    i’m not sure who they will go to when i die. i can’t say they will be buried with me since i want to be cremated. i keep thinking i’ll meet a friend during my lifetime that i feel i can trust to pass them onto. i still haven’t met that person yet though.

    i’ve tried to write for someone else before but it didn’t last long. mostly from when i met leesa and kept one for her, but it soon ended. for me though, i need to write for my own peace and survival. if i couldn’t write, i think i would go mad.

  5. I feel the same way about music. I think it’s probably the only reason I’m still here and more or less in one piece. It’s been my diary, my therapy, my mistress, my playground, my punching bag, and everything in between. It’s the one place where I can always be myself completely, regardless of what that entails at any given time and how messy the results might be. There’s an ungodly amount of it that no one has ever heard, going back to when I was a pre-pubescent kid…so many tapes and CDs. It’s a bit like having an alternate photo album, or several volumes of them. I don’t think anyone else would ever want to hear me at eleven years old improvising goofy songs and preserving my lack of musical talent in the process, but I’m really glad I documented it all, if only for myself.

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