i actually took some non-blurry photos, but i thought this one best captured the experience of listening to the improv jazz set right before i played with coconut cake last night…
it bent my brain in new ways
Yeah! Coconut Cake! 5.15.13. Apothecary. Asheville.
It was Saturday night at the Spring Shakori Hills Festival, and my girlfriends and I were tromping around, maybe on the way to something, I can’t remember. What I do remember is hearing music from the Cabaret Stage that caught my attention. “That sounds like real boogie woogie!” I exclaimed. “Let’s check it out!”
Turns out it was Ironing Board Sam and his band. Wearing an all gold suit and tearing up the keyboard, Sam was a sight to behold. At 74, his age did not lessen his energy - he had the whole dance floor jumping. His performance exuded joyful soul and playfulness. I was charmed.
The story of Ironing Board Sam’s life and 50-year music career is fascinating, and simultaneously heart-breaking and heart-warming. His journey inspires and humbles me.
Right now there’s a Kickstarter for a documentary about him: “TENTH is an intimate portrait of an entertainer who’s persistance is only matched by his contagious optimism. With an unstoppable soundtrack encompassing Sam’s decades long musical career, TENTH reveals the hard consequences of chasing a dream and the creative renaissance of an unheralded legend.”
I pitched in because I can’t wait to see it.
I’m trying to pay attention. 
A wildflower after the rain can quiet my mind’s neurotic refrains. 
It’s time for walks in the woods, writing, making room for wonder.
I’m trying to pay attention, to the silence and the thunder.
Recently I lucked into a late late night dance party with DJMRTHEBEST. I remember hearing him back in the early 2000s, a fun era for Asheville underground music (for lack of a better word). Back in the days of Vincent’s Ear. Hearing him in 2013 felt nostalgic and new. He threw down - it was refreshing to be at show with grit and recklessness.
An extrasensory aspect was the awesome projection by Mister Photon Haptic Interface Furr. Some wild stuff, these photos just give you an idea of it. Then there were the people who showed up covered in fake blood, with an jar of it to share. The dancing was enthusiastic, fitting of a party in early Spring. I was bouncing up and down with the small but mighty crowd. A strobe light came on at some point, driving everyone into a frenzy.
Dancing with abandon fuels me.
Turns out DJMRTHEBEST put out a record this month, Bleak Dream.
Thank goodness for expression.
Grey days give colors such personality.
Today’s misty wetness muffled the world and amplified poetry.
The woods are markedly more dense with vegetation now, the bright spring greens slowly morphing to their verdant state for summer.
A rainy day is energizing. There’s no manic need to squeeze enjoyment out of the sunshine. It feels right to just sit on the porch writing and dreaming. Dreaming and writing. And resting.
I’ve overjoyed it’s overcast.
My words are in a locked chest, locked in my chest.
Someone asked me for songwriting advice last weekend and I actually gave them some, despite the fact I felt like a big faker doing so, what with my songwriter stuff currently being trapped somewhere impenetrable and all.
Though I have written some songs I’m darn proud of over the years.
Last weekend at the French Broad River Fest I got to play quite of few of them, the experience of which felt too raw and/or terrific, depending. So many factors (mental, physical, spiritual) go into making a musical moment special, I find it unfortunately easy to miss the mark. Which I guess makes the moments I hit it that much more meaningful.
One particularly terrific moment was playing in the ensemble pictured below. Singing my song “Honeybees & Dogwood Trees” led Krekel and my sweet friend Caroline and me to cry because it’s about love and family and she’s moving to Hawaii soon. I’ll miss her.
When I think about it, my admiration of Caroline’s musical talent is one of the main reasons why I started down the path in pursuit of music in the first place. What was I looking for then? What am I looking for now?
The key to my chest, I guess.
All of the art you see in this photo is by Phil Cheney. Photo by Rex Freeman.
BILL CUNNINGHAM NEW YORK blew my mind. I’m inspired and challenged by Bill Cunningham. What an extraordinary human. Seeing this film changed me.
i have so much to learn about what the piano can teach me
