Day 3 (1/3) – The mind made a choice for too late a night and so today, it and the body are squarely back to EST. I fight the urge to swaddle myself in wool, the sofa a tempting cradle, the rain a soft, mother’s voice. Instead I pick up my hammers to accompany her. The kettle is hot and I press out some liquid energy, something I usually avoid but can’t seem to do without today. Back in the US, most of my friends are asleep and there is something comforting about this. I am in a cocoon of time that allows me to be still and present. I rehearse for a festival in Belfast and begin to work out “River Rising” on guitar. (Transporting the mandolin would have just been “one more thing”, too much.) The guitar gives the song something new. I wonder if I can share it, premiere rules and all. I press record. It is a different thing than what is coming, or what was. It is me, in stasis. Soon enough I’ll have to emerge and flex the wings of social media to let everyone know of the premiere and where to find it. Soon enough. For now, just this.
West Yorkshire – Day 3 (1/3) Just this, for now.
