Tag Archives: Nick Cave Red Hand Files

Cherish the Morning and Release the Day

April 29, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 3 Comments

What a beautiful morning I’ve had here so far.

And it didn’t start out too great. I woke at my usual 4:44am, sort of dreading the fact that I have to drive into town later and buy more groceries. Even though I likely have antibodies for the virus now, it still just freaks me out because going into town (in the next county) was how I caught the virus in the first place. (And just FYI, the virus has flattened here in Ohio and Muskingum County still only has 10 confirmed cases. So I probably should have gone to the markets here in this county instead of the next county, where they have 114 cases, but oh well. Too late.)

Plus, I was just feeling really at odds with myself this morning — not understanding who I really am, or what my purpose is in the world. (I love when my mornings start out like that and the sun isn’t even up yet.)

Yesterday, Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files letter regarding plagiarism versus the tendencies of indigenous types of music (like rock & roll, jazz, blues, etc.) to progress upon the shoulders of songs that came before it. (I’m using my own words there — not quoting him.) (You can read what he actually said at that link there.)

In it, he briefly mentioned Arvo Pärt, and it made me think of Arvo Pärt’s piece “Spiegel Im Spiegel,” which I used to play a lot but hadn’t listened to in a really long time.

So after my breakfast, and after making entries in all my many little journals that I write in at the breakfast table each morning to keep me from drifting too far from Sanity’s shore, I went back up to bed with my coffee cup in hand and put “Spiegel Im Spiegel” on repeat on my phone and listened to it as the sun came up.

And, as always happens in my contemplative life, a ton of beautiful memories came streaming back.

The reason I used to listen to “Spiegel Im Spiegel” all the time was because of a poet I used to know. We met when we were in our late 40s. She was incredibly gifted. She’d had several poetry collections published by then, and was bilingual in Russian — wrote poems in Russian, also — and her work had won some prestigious poetry prizes.

I liked her a lot, just as a person. But as a writer, I absolutely loved her. Her way with words.

She spent most of each year living in St. Petersburg, Russia, which is one of the few places in the world I have always wanted to visit. Like, passionately. (Helsinki and St. Petersburg are probably the two places on Earth that I haven’t been to yet that I have always wanted to visit.) During the months she would live in St. Petersburg, she would write the bulk of her poems each year. And, honestly, I cannot tell you how much I loved her poems.

One day, I asked her about her inspiration — where it came from; that kind of thing. And she said that she listened to a lot of Arvo Pärt and, at that particular time in her life, “Spiegel Im Spiegel” was what she listened to the most.

“You’ve got to buy it, Marilyn, and listen to it. It’s so inspiring!”

So I bought it and I did indeed listen to it. And this morning, as I was listening to it again, I got a few of her poetry books down from my bookshelf. And I drank my coffee, and listened to “Spiegel Im Spiegel” and read her amazing poems in bed. And renewed my decision that she is a truly gifted writer.

I broke off contact with her several years ago. She knew how much I had always wanted to go to St. Petersburg, so she invited me to come there and live with her for a few months. Just hang out with her and write all day. Cook meals. Drink wine late into the night.

I remember that she said, “You’re going to have to surrender your passport once you get here, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. I speak fluent Russian. They know me here. They will give you back your passport when you leave. I promise you.”

As much as I wanted to go (and I came very close to making that trip) I knew I was falling in love with her and that if I wasn’t in love with her yet, living with her for a few months in St. Petersbrug, writing all day, cooking meals together, drinking wine long into the night… Well, I would be in love with her for sure and she was absolutely 100% heterosexual.

By the time I was in my late 40s, I knew beyond all doubt that falling in love with straight women was a serious dead-end street. Just in a hugely BIG way. So I didn’t make the trip and, almost immediately upon realizing what my heart was doing, I stopped being in contact with her. Didn’t go visit her even in America anymore.

I don’t know if she ever wondered what suddenly happened to me — we had a couple of writer-friends in common in NYC and in LA, but I never actually heard anything from them about it. I’m guessing she just assumed I was nuts , which is generally a good assumption to make about me. However, it leaves out some of the key things that drive me to nuttiness. (L-O-V-E, in particular.) But it’s okay, I guess.

Still, wow, was it beautiful this morning. It was mild enough to have a window open, so I heard the birds singing as the sun came up, too. And that music and those poems? My goodness. What a lovely morning. Life is so beautiful, isn’t it? And before I knew it, the tone of my whole morning had completely shifted in the direction of love.

So, I’m going to get started here. I like to get to the market close to when it opens, since there are fewer people. I did sew a new mask yesterday, btw. I no longer own a sewing machine, so I sewed it by hand and it took forever. But I watched Bad Seeds TeeVee on my phone the whole time, which made “forever” go a lot faster.

Life has just gotten so weird, hasn’t it? Sewing little cotton masks while endlessly streaming intensely intense songs by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds? (There’s poetry in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.)

Anyway. Okay. Thanks for visiting, gang. Enjoy Wednesday, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with 9 minutes of stellar beauty. Perhaps it will inspire you to write award-winning poetry, too. Who knows? You might even be fluent in Russian and not even realize it yet! Go on — put pen to paper, hit “PLAY” and see what comes out! I love you guys. See ya.

I’m Guessing It’s Windy!!

April 21, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

Yes, well. I am sort of reduced to telling you about the weather here every day, because I’m not doing a whole lot right now with which to regale you.

However, it is a sunny day here again — a little chilly, though, and very windy.

So there you have it!

And this also gives you an idea of every single morning phone call I have with my dad now, too. But in his case, he’s kind of depressed, so when the weather looks rainy and likely to keep him from taking his walk and being able to chat with other people in his assisted living compound, it turns into a long, depressing day for him. So the weather has become a huge deal.

I, of course, love the sunny mild days so that I can open the windows for the cats — they love that so fucking much; it’s almost what I live for. But other than that, I don’t care that much about the specific weather, because I love all weather. I get a little anxious when it’s super windy and pieces of the roof of my barn go soaring away. Or if we get a torrential downpour with high winds, then it grieves me to find pieces of the bathroom ceiling on the bathroom floor. Other than that, I’m just a big fan of weather.

Anyway. So now I’ve talked about the weather. (Oh, and that reminds me, there was a really funny video on TikTok that I saw this morning by @TylerJarry — “When Dads talk about the weather.” It was just hysterical. I think his videos are always really funny — such intensely silly stuff about suburban parents that is so spot-on.) Well, it felt good to laugh out loud.

Yesterday was a rough day for me. I had such high hopes for it, but by early afternoon, I was back in bed, with more difficulty breathing. And even though I try so hard to be optimistic and upbeat and all that crap — I finally just broke down and cried. I am just so fucking sick of this virus. It is now 18 days.

I know I have it better than so many people — and aside from the breathing, my life is actually kind of perfect. So I hate to resort to tears, but yesterday, I had just had it.

I’m trying again today, though. So we shall see. I’m supposed to work with Peitor on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. I’m breathing pretty good right now, so I hope it stays that way by this afternoon.

Well, I watched the first episode of “Dummy” on Quibi yesterday (the comedy about the woman who becomes friends with her boyfriend’s AI sex doll). There were things about it that I liked, so I’ll keep watching it to give it a chance. But even though the show was created by and written by a woman (Cody Heller), I really just hate when smutty dialogue is passed off as “empowering to women.”

After having lived most of my adult life in various areas of the sex industry, I know for a fact that women can talk about sex and their identities relating to sex, and be frank and open and maybe even talk like a sailor, without actually being “smutty,” you know? I don’t think that speaking coarse about sex empowers women at all.

But it was only the first episode, so we shall see.

I’m still a big fan of “Agua Donkeys”, though. That show cracks me up. (And the writing on that show actually does empower women.)

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files letter today. It’s about his song, “Palaces of Montezuma,” on the Grinderman 2 album. It’s a song I really love — and I think I’ve posted it here on the blog a couple of times. But in his letter today, he drew a comparison between that song and Lou Reed’s song, “Andy’s Chest,” — from the Transformer album. And I’m really surprised that I had never seen the similarities before, but they are indeed there. So very interesting.

Many decades ago — particularly during the years when I lived in the hellhole tenement on E. 12th Street in the East Village — I played that record Transformer a lot. But oddly enough, I am not a fan of Andy Warhol, so I think I probably blocked out “Andy’s Chest”(which was written for Andy Warhol).

I met Andy Warhol a number of times at art gallery-type functions in NYC. And I also worked at the Museum of Modern Art, and met him there, too. I didn’t know him, or anything. I simply “met” him — repeatedly. And he always seemed really, really nice. He really did. And I sort of appreciated his approach to his Pop Art paintings. And I did see a number of his movies in cinemas in NYC. And I bought his (often expensive) books.

But I still kept feeling that his forte was exploiting people when they were vulnerable. And I’m guessing that a whole lot of those people wanted to be exploited — still. It just felt like a no-brainer to me, you know? Is exploiting people actually art? I honestly don’t know the true answer to that. Defining “art” gets murky indeed.

But it was still sort of bittersweet to hear all those other songs on Transformer this morning. Songs that I used to just love that I had kind of forgotten about because eventually I wound up gravitating more to some of those amazing albums he did in the 1980s. But to hear Transformer again — it was that repeated feeling of: Oh my god, I know every single word to this song… and trying to remember when that had happened. At what point had I memorized every word? And at what point did I move on?

Anyway. If you’d like to read Nick Cave’s comments about his song “Palaces of Montezuma,” it’s at that link above. (Or here, to make it easier.)

Well, truth be told, I had a very slow start this morning because I had some trouble getting out of bed. And so I’m posting this a lot later in the morning than I usually post, so I’m going to get going here. I hope you have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. I hope you’re staying hopeful and healthy, and getting a good grip on the weather!

I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning. I hadn’t listened to this song in a really long time, but I always loved it. It’s such a great song to listen to when you want to feel hopeless about love! However, today it came to mind because of the lyric “somebody can’t breathe” — and I’m guessing you can figure out why that specific lyric popped into my fucking head!!!

And on that note… Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“Somebody’s Me”

You, do you remember me
Like I remember you?
Do you spend your life
Going back in your mind to that time?

‘Cause I, I walk the streets alone
I hate being on my own
And everyone can see that I really fell
And I’m going through hell
Thinking about you with somebody else

Somebody wants you
Somebody needs you
Somebody dreams about you every single night
Somebody can’t breathe, without you it’s lonely
Somebody hopes that one day you will see
That somebody’s me
That somebody’s me
Yeah

How, how did we go wrong?
It was so good and now it’s gone
And I pray at night that our paths soon will cross
And what we had isn’t lost
‘Cause you’re always right here in my thoughts

Somebody wants you
Somebody needs you
Somebody dreams about you every single night
Somebody can’t breathe, without you it’s lonely
Somebody hopes that someday you will see
That somebody’s me
Oh, yeah

You will always be in my life
Even if I’m not in your life
‘Cause you’re in my memory
You, when you remember me
And before you set me free
Oh, listen please

Another Blessed Day Is Upon Us, Gang!! Yay!!

April 17, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

First, I want to say that Quibi is dropping a new series on Monday, called “Dummy,” and guess what it’s about? Yes, an AI sex doll.

But it’s a comedy and it’s a female AI sex doll. It’s about a woman who discovers that her boyfriend has a sex doll and she ends up going off on a road trip with the sex doll and becoming BFFs with it or something like that.

So, nothing at all like Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town, but I did think it was interesting, regardless. I will definitely watch it. Although, so far, still the only show on Quibi that I like is “Agua Donkeys.” I do like a lot of the elements of (non-scripted) “Chrissy’s Court” — where Chrissy Tiegen is a Judge presiding over an actual small claims court. However, I can’t stand courtroom garbage. I have no tolerance for people who get to the level where they must sue each other over stupid shit. So I wasn’t able to watch more than one and a half episodes of that show. Although Chrissy, herself, was really funny and I enjoyed watching her.

Anyway. I’m curious to see how the writers handle “Dummy.”

And it’s not that I am only looking for comedies. I’ve tried watching several of the Quibi dramas but couldn’t stick with them. I was sort of interested in (non-scripted) “Flip that Murder House,” or whatever it’s called. But you know how serious I get (kill-joy, I guess is the ironic word for it). I just found the show so disrespectful to the people who were actually murdered in those houses and then the families and the loved-ones of the people who were murdered in those houses.

I have no problem with people wanting to try to make real homes out of houses where murders have occurred, but just the way it was handled on the show seemed so dismissive and abrasive to me.

But, of course, that’s me. (And it’s what drives me to want to laugh instead.)

Okay.

As indicated by the illustration above, it is supposed to rain pretty much nonstop today. Of course, I’m not going anywhere, so it doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to work again with Peitor today on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff. I hope it pans out because I had such a good time working with him on Wednesday. It felt so good to laugh that hard again.

Which reminds me, speaking once more about laughing — I am becoming a total TikTok-oholic. Some of those videos make me laugh so hard, it’s ridiculous. And since I am now basically still stuck in bed throughout most of the day, it is super easy to just lie there and scroll through these 20-second videos. It just kills me how funny so many people are — from all walks of life.

And that teenage boy who tells his overworked mom those dirty jokes? Man, some of those jokes are so funny and so dirty, I can’t even reprint them here. (Because I’m not only chaste and wanting to remain that way, but this blog is simply not about any X-rated potty-mouth stuff, ever…)

Okay, on an entirely different note.

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files letter yesterday about the nature of prayer, and who it is you are praying to when you pray, and why the virus has given us an opportunity to be prayerful right now — regardless of what we do or don’t believe in outside of ourselves. You can read it at the link there. Of course, as always, I thought it was extremely well stated.

I, personally, am really grateful that I was taught at a very young age (about 3 years old) how to pray. It was my adoptive mother who taught me all about praying, when I asked her one afternoon if God was a cloud.

She was in the kitchen, busy, as usual in her always cooking, always cleaning, housewife way. But she stopped everything and explained to me that God wasn’t a cloud; He wasn’t a “thing” at all — but He was everywhere because He had created everything. But that most importantly, a little piece of God lived inside my heart, too, because He had created me. And that whenever I wanted to talk to God, He was always right there inside me.

Jews pray in an entirely different way than Christians do. It’s blasphemous for Jews to give any sort of form to God. God’s not a man, God’s not a statue, God’s not an icon. God is everything but no-thing.

Even though I couldn’t embrace the Jewish faith, I really appreciate having that background notion of God being formless. Because it has led me into a type of prayer that is extremely up-close and personal. (And, oddly enough, it’s also why I ultimately couldn’t embrace the Jewish faith — because the inner God I was praying to was loving and kind, and not the fear-mongering, war-mongering God I was forced to encounter in the synagogue every week.)

All righty. Well. Who knows what today will bring? I feel very encouraged that it will bring wonderful stuff! Like naps! And silly things to laugh about! And reasons to feel stupefyingly horny (i.e., continue reading Love in the Time of Cholera, which is often a very hot little book)! (I’ll tell you, gang, this virus might have knocked me out from the waist up, but from the waist down, I’m as frisky as ever!!)

And I guess, a case in point, is today’s breakfast-listening music! I’ll leave you with that: “Sexbomb” from Tom Jones’ sexy little 1999 album, Reload. Enjoy it. And thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys! See ya.

“Sexbomb”

Listen to this
Spy on me baby, use satellite
Infrared to see me move through the night
Aim, gonna fire shoot me right
I’m gonna like the way you fight
And I love the way you fight

Now you found the secret code I use
To wash away my lonely blues
(Well) so I can’t deny or lie
‘Cause you’re the only one to make me fly

Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re a sex bomb uh, huh
You can give it to me when I need to come along (give it to me)
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on (baby you can turn me on)
(You know what you’re doing to me don’t you, I know you do)

No, don’t get me wrong ain’t gonna do you no harm, no
This bomb’s made for lovin’ and you can shoot it far
I’m your main target come and help me ignite
Love struck holding you tight (hold me tight darlin’)

Make me explode although you know
The route to go to sex me slow (slow baby)
And yes, I must react to claims of those
Who say that you are not all that

Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb uh, huh
You can give it to me when I need to come along
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb (sex bomb)
You can give it to me when I need to come along
Sex bomb, sex bomb, you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on

You can give me more and more counting up the score, yeah
You can turn me upside down inside out
You can make me feel the real deal
I can give it to you any time because you’re mine

Sex bomb

Oh, baby, sex bomb sex bomb you’re my sex bomb
And you can give it to me when I need to be turned on (no, no)

Sex bomb sex bomb you’re my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
And baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
Baby you can turn me on (turn me on)
Ooh baby, you can turn me on (turn me on)
Baby you can turn me on, ooh (turn me on)
Baby you can turn me on, ooh
Baby you can turn me on
Well, baby you can turn me on

The little baby elephant has left the building

April 8, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

I slept 11 straight hours last night, and somewhere during the worst thunderstorm I can remember hearing in a long time, my fever broke and I awoke this morning to find that the cute little baby elephant who’s been sitting on my chest since Sunday night had departed.

I’m still having trouble breathing but that horrible weight in my lungs is gone.

However, before I collapse right back into bed again, I want to give you a few happy updates!

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds have posted the new dates for their UK & European Ghosteen tour! (And now that I know I will be in Zurich on June 3rd, 2021, this pretty much means that I can count on everything important in my professional life, in the US and Canada, being scheduled for June 3rd, 2021, as well!!)

Okay. I sure hope I’m kidding about that!

Also, Nick Cave sent out another Red Hand Files letter today, this one talks about the new, utterly amazing Dylan song, “Murder Most Foul.” (I’m still listening to it, gang. And when you consider that the song is 17 minutes long, it’s quite an investment of focus.)

An interesting thing about the song — I texted YouTube links for the song to all of my friends right when the song came out. Well, to the ones that I knew liked Bob Dylan. And Kara was the first one who texted me back about it, and she had the same first-response that I did. And she nailed it: “That violin…” she said.

I know. That violin. It sears right into you; it manages to both chill and awaken your heart. It’s incredible.

All right. I need to get back to bed, so I will post the sad news. John Prine had been struggling with COVID 19 since the end of March and he finally succumbed last night. He was definitely one of those people who had seriously complex underlying health issues, so I’m sad to say that I was not surprised he succumbed. Still, I wish he could have gone in a less horrible way.

John Prine’s songs were a huge part of the 70s and 80s for me, being that, at that point in my life, I was a country/folksinger-songwriter myself. And into the 90s, when I met Wayne and we got married, etc., Wayne was also a big John Prine fan. And Prine’s album, The Missing Years, was one of the cassettes (!!) we played relentlessly in the car when we drove cross-country on our honeymoon.

So I’ll leave you with 2 distinct types of John Prine songs. The bluegrass type that I feel he was best known for, and then a song from The Missing Years, that features Tom Petty, and is about James Dean, a movie star I totally love (and it also mentions my beloved Grandma’s first cousin, John Garfield!! ).

I’m gonna close now because I’m super tired, gang. Sorry for any typos. But thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“That’s The Way That The World Goes ‘Round”

I know a guy that’s got a lot to lose.
He’s a pretty nice fellow but he’s kind of confused.
He’s got muscles in his head that ain’t never been used.
Thinks he owns half of this town.

Starts drinking heavy, gets a big red nose.
Beats his old lady with a rubber hose,
Then he takes her out to dinner and buys her new clothes.
That’s the way that the world goes ’round.

That’s the way that the world goes ’round.
You’re up one day and the next you’re down.
It’s half an inch of water and you think you’re gonna drown.
That’s the way that the world goes ’round.

I was sitting in the bathtub counting my toes,
When the radiator broke, water all froze.
I got stuck in the ice without my clothes,
Naked as the eyes of a clown.
I was crying ice cubes hoping I’d croak,
When the sun come through the window, the ice all broke.
I stood up and laughed thought it was a joke
That’s the way that the world goes ’round.

“Picture Show”

A young man from a small town
With a very large imagination
Lay alone in his room with his radio on
Looking for another station
When the static from the mouthpiece
Gave way to the sound below
James Dean went out to Hollywood
And put his picture in a Picture Show.
James Dean went out to Hollywood
And put his picture in a Picture Show.

[Chorus:]
And It’s Oh Daddy get off of your knees
Mamma why’d you have to go
Your darling Jim is out a limb
I put my picture in a Picture Show
Whoa Ho! Put my picture in a Picture Show

Hamburgers Cheeseburgers
Wilbur and Orville Wright
John Garfield in the afternoon
Montgomery Clift at night
When the static hit the mouthpiece
Gave way to the sound below
James Dean went out to Hollywood
And put his picture in a Picture Show.

[Chorus]

A Mocca man in a wigwam sitting on a Reservation.
With a big black hole in the belly of his soul
Waiting on an explanation
While the white man sits on his fat can
And takes pictures of the Navajo
Every time he clicks his Kodak pics
He steals a little bit of soul.
Every time he clicks his Kodak pics
He steals a little bit of soul.

[Chorus]

Yie Hi! Put my picture in a Picture Show
Here we go!
A young man from a small town
With a very large imagination…

Sorry I’m Late!!

March 31, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

I was too busy, this morning, dancing with the cat…

Actually, I was busy scribbling away at something else. But here I am now. And I’m getting geared up to work with Peitor on Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff!

I think!

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that since the pandemic started to really explode across everything, Abstract Absurdity Productions has had some problems getting itself focused. (And to be honest, and not funny at all, several of Peitor’s family members here in the US now have the virus — and his 93-year-old mom is quarantined in Italy and has been throughout the pandemic — so it is really getting emotionally tense for him. So, really, we do just play it by ear and see what he feels up to at any given time, you know?)

But we do at least plan on working today, getting the synopsis together for our micro short film, Lita måste gå! (aka “Lita’s Got to Go!”). And I haven’t done a single solitary other thing for the web site — which was supposed to launch tomorrow — because I haven’t been able to focus on anything for very long.

Although I am getting really good at staring. And also at pacing around. And also at staring at all my many half-finished projects in stacks on the floor of my bedroom. I’ve gotten really, really good at all these things.

Nick Cave just sent out one of his Red Hand Files letter things. It was very, very interesting indeed. You can read it at that link. I know it probably seems weird to say this (to think this) but I keep feeling that underneath all of this, we are all blessed in some hard to define way. In ways that maybe we won’t be able to understand until time has passed, or perhaps in the next life, you know?

I keep feeling that when a non-pandemic life resumes for those of us who find ourselves still here, it will bring with it a “new normal” that will transcend anything we’ve known before now. I’m not sure in what way, but I feel it will be worth all of this. I guess we’ll find out.

I, personally, have developed a sort of “intense apathy” that I have never had before. Buy that, I guess I mean that each day feels very much under a microscope, yet things that usually matter so much to me, just flow by my awareness like water going down to the sea or something. Things still matter to me, but I can’t control anything at all. Nothing whatsoever. Just waiting. It’s not necessarily sad, or anything; just waiting.

I’m still able to laugh (a lot) when friends call on the phone. I can still feel an intensity of joy that flows through me all day, every day — an undercurrent of my own Identity that is riding out the outer current, the experience of “Now.” There is a real joy in “beingness” that still feels very sacred to me.

And I am also totally loving being fucking asleep. I am so thankful for sleep. Escape. Wake-up. Then see how & where life begins again. (For most of my adult life, I had trouble sleeping — anxiety issues. Ever since that man came into my life and then died a couple of summers ago, I have no sleep issues anymore. Isn’t that interesting?)

(I apologize in advance for my typos. I’ve noticed I have a lot lately. I try to go in and correct them, but I still don’t catch all of them.)

I cut my hair on Sunday. Just trimming off the dead ends, as I do every few months. But I am usually so intensely precise about it. Yet this time, there’s a part in front that is not even. A part that’s a little tiny bit longer, but I have decided that I love the asymmetry of it. And asymmetry is usually something I have no tolerance for! I don’t think it’s actually noticeable — but the fact that I am just letting it go is kind of unheard of for me.

So we shall see who I will be as the months go by, right? (Hopefully someone who has nice, even hair but I guess we’ll find out!)

Okay, gang. I need to get ready for my meeting here. I might post again later. I hope you’ve been having a good Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Don’t forget to count your blessings, okay? Counting them is how they multiply. Being aware of all the good things is how you recognize and become more and more aware of more good things that are coming. And they always do arrive when you care enough to expect them. All righty.

Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with the song that was in my head when I awoke this morning at 4 AM, and was thinking about someone I consider my dearest friend in the world. And I share it now with you, too, okay? I love you guys. See ya.

“Lean On Me”

Sometimes in our lives
We all have pain, we all have sorrow.
But if we are wise,
We know that there’s always tomorrow.

Lean on me when you’re not strong
I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long
‘Til I’m gonna need somebody to lean on.

Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you won’t let show.

You just call on me, brother, when you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on.
I just might have a problem that you’ll understand,
We all need somebody to lean on.

Lean on me when you’re not strong
And I’ll be your friend I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long
‘Til I’m gonna need somebody to lean on

You just call on me, brother, when you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on.
I just might have a problem that you’ll understand,
We all need somebody to lean on.

If there is a load
You have to bear
That you can’t carry
I’m right up the road
I’ll share your load
If you just call me.

Call me if you need a friend
Call me, call me, uh-huh
Call me when you need a friend
Call me if you ever need a friend
Call me, call me
Call me, call me
Call me, call me
Call me, call me
Call me if you need a friend
Call me, call me
Call me, call me
Call me, call me
Call me, call me
Call me

All Sorts of Happy Things!!

March 25, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

You know, this morning, in my Inner Being dialogue journal thingy, my Inner Being informed me that there was no actual blueprint for my day.

This probably seems insane to you — that my Inner Being would even take the time to tell me something that seems like a no-brainer to anyone else on Earth. But my days are so intensely structured, day after day after day, that I do not have any clue how to simply relax and do nothing.

I absolutely do not know how to do this. I have no clue.

This stems from years and years and years of battling depression and suicidal tendencies and mental illness. Keeping myself on a productive schedule, forcing my mind to stay occupied with creative things, has literally kept me alive.

However, now that the whole world has come to a standstill, this rigid schedule is starting to have a little bit of an opposite effect — that whole “Groundhog Day” thing, where everything feels exactly the same as yesterday, and so I wake up each day, wondering ~~what~~ ~~Nick Cave is wearing~~ wondering what am I going to work on today, what am I going to have for breakfast, will I do yoga or Booty Core later, etc., and it all feels eerily the same.

Since I don’t want to inch even minutely in the direction of depression, my Inner Being apparently advised me to let go of the rigid structuring for a change of pace.

So, what might seem crazy to you, feels like a godsend to me!

And it occurred to me that maybe right now isn’t the best time to be working on In the Shadow of Narcissa, since it’s not something I want to post online anymore — or not regularly. And my blog readers really like erotica, so maybe I should just work on something erotic, that I can post online? Maybe something for Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse?

So I’m thinking about that — about switching gears for today. (Or maybe even for the duration of the pandemic.)

And I also want to thank you guys who are buying my books right now, even the titles that are not on Smashwords and that are not on sale. I really appreciate that, since these are not new books.

And I am struggling with this idea of whether or not I should continue to self-publish, in order to get my new work in the pipeline sooner.

I honestly just don’t know. I chose to self-publish Freak Parade, after 5 years of publishers telling my agent that they couldn’t categorize an anti-hero like Eddie Ramirez, so how would they market it? When I self-published Freak Parade, it cost me a good chunk of money to hire someone to design the cover, hire the model, do the photo shoot, and then an editor to professionally format the text. But it did go on to take home the Silver Medal in its category at the Independent Publishers Awards at the Book Expo in NYC that year, so I was really, really proud of that. I was up against actual small presses.

I’m not going to attempt to self-publish if I can’t keep up those types of standards, and then I think: well, if I’m going to invest in that, why not just start my own small press again and publish other writers like me who can’t get small presses to reply to them anymore?

And, of course, the last time I did that, I wound up in Federal Court, looking at prison time and enormous fines…. (Thank God for the ACLU. I really mean that.)

So, as you can guess, it is not an easy decision for me to make, but it’s in my mix of thoughts during the day. And I know it’s simple to format/publish eBooks. I could have Blessed By Light published later today if I wanted only that. But I don’t. I know Blessed By Light is a strange book — it’s just a man talking for 186 pages. But I still think it’s a beautiful book. And I also think it’s a book.

Okay, well, Peitor and I texted a bit last night regarding some Abstract Absurdity Productions stuff and I thought I would share this with you!

No! It is not another new logo — instead, I draw your attention to “our girls.” These are the women who work in our office — they are the power behind Abstract Absurdity Productions who actually get things done!! (We just love these girls!! They lived & loved & worked in Paris in the 1920s. We have no idea who they were, but they live again in our offices!!)

Aren’t they great??!!

More good news!! I was informed during the night that, because I had pre-ordered Nick Cave’s new art book, Stranger Than Kindness, on Amazon UK, I actually saved money on the final price. So a book that was going to originally cost me $17 million US Dollars, actually came to just under $30 when it was all said and done! So, pre-ordering the book saved me $16,999,970 US dollars. Quite a significant savings, if you ask me!

(I just can’t wait to get the book! I saw on Instagram that people in Europe began getting their copies in Monday’s mail.)

And speaking of Instagram — whether or not you follow me there, my current Instagram posts are always visible here on the blog. If you follow my blog on a computer and not a phone, that is. That weird photo today is of a bald eagle feeding a baby eaglet in its nest yesterday! I was actually trying to copy video footage but it came out as a still photo and you can’t really see what it is. But it was taken in a park over in Granville yesterday.

I was so excited to see that. The people in Granville have worked really, really hard to bring back the population of eagles in the parks over there. (By the way — the header at the top of my blog, with the autumn leaves and the church spires — that is Granville. Not Crazeysburg.) (Granville is a really beautiful small town — and a very expensive one!! It’s 25 miles from where I live. And even though it is a small town, it is still 5 times larger than Crazeysburg.) (My friend Kara lives there.)

Okay.

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand Files letter this morning. As you can maybe guess, it dealt with the virus and Life these days. You can read what he said at the link there. It is, as always, very compassionately stated.

Today, it is going to be sunny and mild here in Crazeysburg. Later today, I will more than likely open a window or two so that the cats can get a better look at all the many birds flying hither and yon — still just starlings and robins, mostly. But there are a lot of them!

And it’s a Booty Core day, so I’ll be doing that later, too. And then I’ll be figuring out what I feel like writing, because I have been informed by sources who are in the position to know these things — that my day does not have a blueprint I need to follow or anything. So we’ll just see!

Have a very good Wednesday, wherever you are in the world, gang. Thanks for visiting! Stay hopeful. Don’t let your mind drift to the dark places. Stay creative, in whatever ways that speaks to you, okay? Or maybe just take a nap. Or four. Or seven…

I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning! One of the few Bee Gees songs that is actually really uplifting and not sad at all! “More than A Woman.” It is a really joyful song that I have some great memories of being a wee frisky 17-year-old girl attached to. (I actually did know some really wonderful guys in high school — crazy, insane, funny, kind.) The song was a huge hit during my senior year in high school, when the movie Saturday Night Fever was the most popular movie at the box office. (I think I saw the movie about 5 times — back then, movies hung around in the theaters and played for months so you could always go back and see them, usually for $1.) Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“More Than A Woman”
(from “Saturday Night Fever” soundtrack)

Oh, girl I’ve known you very well
I’ve seen you growing everyday
I never really looked before
But now you take my breath away

Suddenly you’re in my life
Part of everything I do
You got me working day and night
Just trying to keep a hold on you

Here in your arms I found my paradise
My only chance for happiness
And if I lose you now I think I would die

Oh say you’ll always be my baby
We can make it shine, we can take forever
Just a minute at a time

More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, oh, oh, oh.

There are stories old and true
Of people so in love like you and me
And I can see myself
Let history repeat itself

Reflecting how I feel for you
Thinking about those people then
I know that in a thousand years
I’d fall in love with you again

This is the only way that we should fly
This is the only way to go
And if I lose your love I know I would die

Oh say you’ll always be my baby
We can make it shine, we can take forever
Just a minute at a time

More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, more than a woman to me
More than a woman, oh, oh, oh

Some Things to Ponder!

March 19, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 5 Comments

Well, Spring starts tomorrow! That’s really good news, right?

What I love about the seasons, gang, is how reliable they are. They always come back around. I love that the sun comes up each day, too, and that the moon goes through its phases each month “like clockwork,” and the ocean waves keep coming back to the shore.

These are all things to think about right now. And also that everything passes through, moves on, transforms.

As we’d feared, though, Nick Cave finally came to the decision to postpone the start of the European Ghosteen tour. He announced it today on the Nick Cave web site, and also in his Red Hand Files letter this morning. (I’m guessing his server crashed from all the responses he got to that announcement, though! I sent a response and his server told me “too many comments, slow down” or something like that.)

Also, things to keep in the mix as you hang out, like me, in your isolation and/or quarantine, the world over right now (meaning March 19, 2020), there are over 137,000 known cases of the virus but over 123, 000 of those are mild. Close to 86,000 people have now recovered. China now has more recoveries than people who are sick with the virus, and the professional show business news outlets, expect movie theaters in China to be open again by the end of March (about 2 weeks away).

So, like all other viruses and epidemics, it comes and passes through. And we adjust to all of it. The UK news outlets yesterday carried the story of Dr. Dongchen Wu of the Wuhan area of China who has cured 9 elderly patients now of Covid 19 by use of stem cell injections.

Assuming this is accurate news, it gives us reason to hope that by the next “flu season” there could be a cure or vaccine for this. There are good reasons to balance the stress and difficulties of “right now” with these other ideas.

As illustrated by China right now, the virus comes in, balloons, subsides. It doesn’t just come and stay eternally.

Also, at least here in America, people get really angry when you compare the Covid 19 virus with the regular “flu,” because we allegedly “know” what the flu is and what it’s doing, but it seems evident that just this season alone, between 22,000 – 55,000 Americans have died from the flu. And between 370,000 – 670,000 were actually hospitalized because of it. So we still don’t have a grip on the flu by any stretch, but we have managed to find a way to still live our lives in the wake of it, every single year. (The stats come from the Center of Disease Control.)

These are just things to think about in the midst of everything bombarding us on the national news. There is always the reality of
“right now” alongside the reality of change.

Meanwhile, here in Muskingum County, no outbreaks yet. We still have toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towels. We still have food. We still have gasoline at $1.83 per gallon.(Which could be an indication that I’m actually dead now and living in the afterlife, which, in that case, means you should disregard everything I’ve just written above!!)

If you follow me on Instagram (whether from the afterlife or from Earth), you saw that I actually ventured out and got a pizza last evening! I have never done that in the 2 years I’ve lived in Crazeysburg. I love pizza but I don’t eat it too often because in this part of the country, it simply doesn’t compare to the pizza you can get in NYC. Sorry to have to say that, but, alas, it is true.

But I was really hungry and I’d been stuck inside alone for about 96 hours straight already (not exaggerating on that, gang) and I thought, not only would pizza be great, but it would also support the one & only restaurant here in Crazeysburg. (You can only get take-out in Ohio now; there’s a Governor’s mandate right now that no one can congregate in bars or restaurants, so all those establishments are really hurting financially.)

So I went out and got a pizza!! Yay. (Cheese, onions and green olives. Is that weird? I really like green olives on my pizzas. I’m not sure why.) It was indeed weird, though, inside the place because of course the women who work at the pizzeria aren’t allowed to get anywhere near you. (Oh, we also have plenty of hand sanitizer here, too.) So, you know, you walk in the door of the pizzeria, which is entirely empty of other customers, and all the staff members immediately move very far away from you. You feel like Covid 19 walking.

But at least I got out of the house. For about 9 minutes. And I ate something besides organic oranges, tomatoes, baby spinach, arugula, Greek yogurt, berries, granola, non-organic dark chocolate, and Neapolitan ice cream… (If you study that list, you’ll see that it’s reasonably healthy but fucking boring for 96 hours straight!)

Okay, well. Today is Booty Core and hair-washing, and sitting at the desk and writing something!! (And eating the stuff on that list that I’ve just regaled you with, but now add cold, leftover pizza…) It could be so much worse. I count my many blessings every day, gang. I’m guessing that you do, too.

Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a good Thursday, wherever it finds you in this big, beautiful world! We’ll say goodbye to Nick Cave and his fellow Bad Seeds for now but not forever! I love you guys. See ya.

“We’ll Meet Again”

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know
Tell them I won’t be long
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where
Don’t know when.
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.

Keep smiling through
Just like you always do,
‘Til the blue skies
Drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know.
Tell them I won’t be long.
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singin’ this song.

We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day

Last Night, I Had A Dream

March 13, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

That Fluffy, my wonderful, goofy, intensely loving little stray cat, was alive again. And frisky and fluffy as anything you ever saw. She was scampering all over my living room. (That’s her, pictured above.)

She had been in a nursing home (of all things) because she was ill and dying (in real life, she died at home in my bed, from cancer, back in September 2016, and then, sadly, Bunny had a heart attack and died only a month later).

In the dream, I went to get Fluffy from the nursing home and she was no longer sick. In fact, she was getting ready to have kittens!

(In real life, when she first decided to come live with Mikey Rivera and me, she was still very young, starving, ill with pneumonia, infested with fleas, and pregnant with kittens. We took her in and took her to a vet, who assured me that Fluffy wouldn’t survive. I decided otherwise. I had the kittens aborted and kept her in quarantine for a very long time. And she lived to be 10 years old.)

This time, in my dream, Fluffy was obviously so healthy and full of life that I knew she and the kittens would live and I was so excited that, soon, I would have kittens scampering all over the house again. And I knew I was going to keep every one of them.

So. Well. I’m having a bit of a broken heart here this morning, I’m not going to go into why. But I felt that the dream was encouraging. I don’t really know how to interpret it, but it just made me feel hopeful. About the power of life, I guess.

Well, at this point maybe it won’t surprise you (it sort of surprised me, though, I have to say), that Peitor continued all day yesterday to tinker with that new logo for Abstract Absurdity Productions. He did some amazing work on it. But each time I thought that it was great, he tinkered some more and it was even more amazing.

However, he sent me so many versions of the logo in texts yesterday, that now I can no longer tell which one I like better or why. We are working on the phone today, so I’m guessing we’ll be going over that and choosing one. (I hope.)

I woke up this morning and suddenly recalled how meticulous he is — a true perfectionist. And I suddenly had a vision of perhaps being in a film editing studio with him, editing one of our future 45-second movies, and perhaps tearing my hair out…

ME (to him): “I thought that was real good.”

HIM (to the film editor): “Obviously I still need to study this. Let me see that one frame again.”

ME (thinking): oh no…

Then:

ME, CONT’D (17 million hours later): “Oh my god, Peitor — that’s fantastic.”

HIM: “I know.”

BOTH OF US (accepting our Academy Award for Best Short Subject Film of the Year):

ME (wondering where Nick Cave is and what color suit he’s wearing): Silently staring at audience.

HIM (holding the actual Oscar): “…each element and perspective, and placement for not only aesthetic but also thesis…”

All righty!! Of course, I am 100% not kidding!!

However, let me tell you a couple of things. Quite a few music Divas from the 1970s saw their careers land back to the top of the Billboard Dance charts 30-40 years later, after hiring Peitor to write songs and produce for them.

And I remember, vividly, a time I was staying with him in LA — when he had this really lovely garden townhouse on N. Fairfax off of Sunset Blvd. I was in LA promoting Neptune & Surf because it had just come out (this is over 20 years ago). And I was up in the guest room, just killing time because Peitor was under a really tight deadline to compose a 60-second piece of music for some sort of Simpson’s movie. (Yes, the animated Simpsons.) He was at that piece for hours. And I could hear him at his keyboard the entire time. And he was going over & over & over one certain refrain. And I mean, for hours he was doing this — one section from a 60-second piece of music.

And then finally a messenger came to pick up the tape. And finally Peitor and I went out to dinner. And when we came home, another messenger had come by to slip an envelope under Peitor’s door and in it was a check for $36,000. For that 60-second piece of music.

‘Nuff said. So. If he wants to tweak that logo 17 million times, I say, “let him!!”

Okay!!

Nick Cave sent out a really beautiful Red Hand Files letter thing this morning. Pertaining to the Bible, and to Mary Magdalene, specifically. It meant a lot to me, what he said. You can read it at that link there if you so choose!!

I need to scoot because I have stuff to get to before Peitor calls. I hope you enjoy your Friday, wherever you are in the world. And just remember that love is beautiful, no matter what, so just be brave, okay? I leave you with two things today. A song from the 2013 album, Push the Sky Away, by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (The cool lyrics-in-progress are in the video). And then also my breakfast-listening music from this morning: the titular song, “Graceland,” from Paul Simon’s 1986 Grammy winning album-of-the-year, Graceland.

I love you guys. See ya.

“Graceland”

The Mississippi Delta was shining
Like a National guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil war

I’m going to Graceland
Graceland
In Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage
But I’ve reason to believe
We both will be received
In Graceland

She comes back to tell me she’s gone
As if I didn’t know that
As if I didn’t know my own bed
As if I’d never noticed
The way she brushed her hair from her forehead

And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow

I’m going to Graceland
Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
But I’ve reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Oh, so this is what she means
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow

In Graceland, in Graceland
I’m going to Graceland
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland

And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

c – 1986 Paul Simon

Quite the Morning Here!

March 6, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

First off, I want to say that Nick Cave’s Red Hand File thing today was wonderful. He replied to a question involving some of his past often intensely provocative lyrics and how he handles them in the year 2020 — a time which has lost “its sense of humour, its sense of playfulness, its sense of context, nuance and irony“.

He wrote just a really well stated reply. And as usual, he doesn’t back down. If you’re a writer, it will definitely resonate with you on some level. You can read it at the link above.

For me, you know, so much of what I have written in my life was never, ever, even for a moment considered politically correct or acceptable in a public way. So I haven’t really had to brace myself for a future audience that might suddenly view it differently. (Unless of course that meant that suddenly my work was acceptable!! Yay! That would be so cool. You know — for my work to not always have to be read in private, or to exist in that segregated place.)

Actually, Valerie and I were talking on the phone about that the other night. How in the next century, after AI sexbots like Thug Luckless had become the norm and everybody owned one, my work would be considered classics of popular literature and they would be adapted for whatever the future form of entertainment would be — you know, 3D-hologram virtual reality streaming TV shows that might takeover a person’s entire living room and the viewer can become part of my overall erotic storyline. Right?

My future might be very bright in that regard. (Someone will find out for sure, but probably not me.)

My future’s so bright I gotta wear shades.

On a sort of Nick Cave-related note…

Today, the MP3 version of Rowland S. Howard’s acclaimed solo album from 1999, Teenage Snuff Film, is now available for download! Go get it at a (legal) download place near you!!

Okay. I can’t tarry today. It is once again Abstract Absurdity Productions day. (They seem to come around quite often now, don’t they?) I have to get some things done before my phone call with Peitor.

Have a really good Friday, though, okay? Thanks for visiting, gang. It means the world to me to have you here. I’m going to leave you with a killer song from Teenage Snuff Film — “Autoluminescent.” I love you guys. See ya.

“Autoluminescent”

I am blinding
Autoluminescent
I am white heat
I am heaven sent
I was a nightmare
But I’m not gonna go there
Again

Into the black hole
The house of no contest
Make mine a meteor
Rise me above the rest
I’m soaring through outer space
There is no better place
To be

I’m bigger than Jesus Christ
I’m greater than God in light
I am dangerous
I cut like the sharpest knife
I’m going nova
And I hope I can hold her
In

Into the darkness
I gave away myself
Slipped on the spiral stairs
Tumbling down the well
I fell on a soft spot
I’m white heat, I’m white hot
Again

c – 1999 Rowland S. Howard

Another Industrious Day Out Here in the Hinterlands!

February 25, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

Before I go off on a tangent about how magical and wonder-filled my world is here in the wilds of Muskingum County…

Nick Cave sent out another Red Hand Files thing this morning that was very interesting. It was about his song “Girl in Amber” from the Skeleton Tree album. Plus it includes a photo of his original scribbly lyrics to the song and I always love looking at stuff like that.

“Girl in Amber” is one of the few songs of his that I actually sort of relate to personally. Even though I love all of his songs (as you have most likely surmised by now), there are only a handful that I feel like I actually relate to personally — that makes me think of things I feel about my actual life, I mean. (“Hallelujah,” of course, is another one.) (And “O’Malley’s Bar.”) (Just kidding about that last one.) (Well, at least right now, I’m kidding — but the day’s still young!)

Anyway. What he wrote about the song was illuminating and beautiful. It is such a haunting song, You can read his post here if you so choose!

Okay, so today is all about work. (And by way of my new friend in Switzerland, I am now painfully aware that I work way too much!!) (Oh!! And my ticket to see Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds in Zurich arrived there today!! And even though the concert is 4 months away, unlike Nick Cave’s In Conversation tour, I won’t have to worry about accidentally leaving my ticket here in my room in Crazeysburg because the ticket is already there in Switzerland! Um. How cool is that??) (Very, very cool.)

I digressed. But it was a wonderful digression!!

So, yes. Today is all about work. The laundry is almost done. After I post this to the blog, I’m finally going to force myself to finish those 2 contracts that I had to re-write for Life Story Rights for my play, Tell My Bones. (Yes, indeedy! When I want to avoid something, I can really, really drag it out for days…) But I seriously gotta finish it because people are waiting.

And then I have a few hours on the phone with Peitor this afternoon to work on Scene 5 of Lita’s Got To Go! And this is my very favorite scene. It was actually the whole reason why we decided to write this short film in the first place — this specific scene was the thing that came to us first, while we were sitting at the counter of that French pastry place in one of those farmer’s markets in LA, and we were laughing so hard we almost fell off our counter stools.

(I just want to reiterate that most people won’t find this film so funny that they’ll fall off their counter stools. We are the ones who find it this funny. I’m guessing that most of the people who watch this movie will sit silently for 8 minutes and wonder: What the fuck? But that’s a good thing, too.)

Then after I’m done working with Peitor, I have yet another online seminar, this one about movie financing for short films. (Yes, I try to only take the most uplifting, life-affirming seminars! Because I like to come away from them thinking: Yeah! This is so fun! I love my life!)

So that’s my day — oh, and Booty Core. Can’t forget that.

Well, yesterday, I had to venture into my barn (shown above there) for the first time since the summer ended and it was immediately apparent that the raccoons have definitely been having a nice time in there this winter, including creating their own little front door to get into it (ripping aside some planks at the bottom of one of the side walls of the barn). I really seriously gotta do something about fixing that barn. But I really seriously need someone to haul away that enormous dead oak tree that collapsed beside the barn before I can really work on the barn. And all the many people who have claimed they were coming to remove the tree over these past 2 years that I’ve lived here, have never shown up to remove the tree.

Perhaps this year will be the lucky year!! We shall see. At this point, I am willing to buy the damn chainsaw myself and give it, as a happy parting gift, to whoever actually shows up to do the darn job.

And on my journey back from the barn, I also noticed that the soffit over the eave next to my back door — the one the starlings insist on fucking with in order to build their nests under it every spring — is now completely twisted and destroyed. It is a colossal mess now because I didn’t take care of it when I could have — last spring, when the baby starlings flew away. I’m guessing that the starlings will be thrilled to death that it is move-in ready for them this year and they won’t have to fuck with it at all this time.

It’s just amazing — what a great homeowner I am. The many birds and animals appreciate me, anyway. My neighbors – not so much.

Oh, anyway. I’m happy. And eventually, it all gets done.

Okay, well, I think I’d better get this day underway here. I hope you have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang! I leave you with my listening-music from last evening. I’ve posted it here on the blog before: “Time to Move On,” from Tom Petty’s solo album, Wildflowers, 1994. The lyrics by themselves make it seem like a sad song, but I actually find it sort of empowering and uplifting. You can, of course, decide for yourselves! All righty. I might be back to the blog later. We’ll see. Meanwhile. I love you guys. See ya!

“Time To Move On”

It’s time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going

Broken skyline, movin’ through the airport
She’s an honest defector
Conscientious objector
Now her own protector

Broken skyline, which way to love land
Which way to something better
Which way to forgiveness
Which way do I go

Time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going

Sometime later, getting the words wrong
Wasting the meaning and losing the rhyme
Nauseous adrenaline
Like breakin’ up a dogfight
Like a deer in the headlights
Frozen in real time
I’m losing my mind

It’s time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going

c – 1994 Tom Petty