Studio Days #1

An album journal. Today: Nobody's Baby, new creative spaces, northern winds.

A couple of days ago I stepped into the home studio of a man with whom I’ve shared just one coffee. We sat in relative silence for 6 hours, exchanging small sounds of approval, excitement, and *not that*s while my newest track played on a loop. It is always strange at first, and then it becomes meditative. There is something honest about the lack of small talk. We have gone quickly from strangers to argonauts.

I just stepped away to add a log to the fire. I am up north at the moment, shuffling outside intermittently to grab armfuls of the firewood that I chopped this summer. Even with the fire roaring, it is so cold in the cabin that it is hard to type. I can hear nothing and everything for miles. This morning the wind picked up the yellow folium of the local birch trees and threw them through the gaps in the hills like God had dropped a handful of golden pamphlets onto the earth. I did not need to read the pamphlet to know the show was worth the ticket price.