Well, I am going to be brief again today, gang. By late afternoon yesterday, after a couple of phone calls in a row, it suddenly seemed like everything was starting to go very wrong.

In my relationships, I mean. (Of which I have about 3 and a 1/2…)

I woke up this morning and the morning concurred: something is going really, really wrong. In every direction.

So I’m going to stay off line. Try to get my head together here. And if that proves fruitless, I’ll just take a bunch of little happy pills all in a row and sleep until Monday. Or later…. (The Big Sleep would actually be really nice, right about now, but I have way too many freaking cats relying on me.) (I actually think the Universe planned it this way, gang. I really do. It knows that, when worse comes to worst, I am always at least able to find meaning in the lives of every other living thing besides me.)

Anyway, before everything began to really suck, I did make some interesting progress with the flowers and the barn yesterday. Although the window that has no glass in it, and has the old man-made, louvered shutters, and the 8-inch window sill — I was not able to really do anything with it.  Although I pondered it for quite a while — how to make something work in that window. But I just couldn’t and since I already had the cloth flower planter and the flowers, the soil, etc., I put it all on the other window of the barn — the one that faces the street:

 

 

 

 

 

So now the neighbors can enjoy the flowers, but I can’t see them at all from my kitchen window, which was the original point! But oh well. It looks pretty from the street.

You’ll note that I have restored the “From the Vault” stories for now. Valerie in Brooklyn is having a lot of stress  — constantly traveling  between needing to look after her mom who lives up the Hudson a ways, and one of her 18-year-old cats dying at home — she has her hands full and cannot concentrate on doing any cover art.  So the re-issuing of The Muse Revisited collection (as well as publication of The Guitar Hero Goes Home)  is on hold. So the Vault is back until we can get back on track with the POD publishing projects.

Okay. I think that’s it. I no longer have any clue what day this is, but whatever it is, I hope it’s a good one for you, wherever you are in the world! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“I Am… I Said”

L.A.’s fine, the sun shines most the time
And the feeling is “lay back”
Palm trees grow and rents are low
But you know I keep thinkin’ about
Making my way back

Well I’m New York City born and raised
But nowadays,
I’m lost between two shores
L.A.’s fine, but it ain’t home
New York’s home,
But it ain’t mine no more

“I am”… I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair

“I am”… I cried “I am”… said I
And I am lost and I can’t
Even say why
Leavin’ me lonely still

Did you ever read about a frog
Who dreamed of bein’ a king
And then became one
Well except for the names
And a few other changes
If you talk about me
The story’s the same one

But I got an emptiness deep inside
And I’ve tried
But it won’t let me go
And I’m not a man who likes to swear
But I never cared
For the sound of being alone

“I am”… I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
“I am”… I cried
“I am”… said I
And I am lost and I can’t
Even say why
“I am”… I said
“I am”… I cried
“I am”… I said

© 1971 Neil Diamond