The Verge

Today is quiet... Or rather, today I'm quiet. Things are on the verge. That's probably the best way to put it.

Things are on the verge. The transitional weather seems to have spilled over into life... or maybe, given this summer's revelations regarding meteorological concurrences, life has spilled over into the jetstream. But somehow everything feels new, or as if it's going towards newness. And that means, of course, acknowledging the old and finding a way to say goodbye to it... trying desperately to hold on to the good and to be at peace with the bad... And today feels on the verge.

Tomorrow... it's off to L.A. Can't wait. Maybe life will be on the verge from here on out... maybe that's the new thing. Maybe being on the verge means you're always taking chances, always pushing limits, always moving forwards... it may be uncomfortable at times, but maybe it's the price you have to pay for living true, for taking risks, for moving on from failures, for saying goodbye, for grieving and drying your tears, for walking out on the wire with no net...

Maybe that's The Verge. And maybe, just maybe... I'm finally okay with that.

Today.

September 20.

Love,
jbg

In The Small Hours

So I couldn't sleep last night... Which has been a rare occurance lately. Some combination of mild sleep medication, running 30 plus miles a week, the occasional beer, and feeling (relatively) more settled in life has meant that my insomnia has been more or less under control.

 But last night... Maybe it was the fact that I've been sick since Monday and sleeping like crazy and my mind had finally had enough sleep. Maybe I'm anxious about something. I don't know. In spite of enlisting some pharmaceutical help, I found myself wide awake past midnight. So instead of fighting it, I got up and adjorned to the living room to read and write... a practice I embraced quite a bit in previous times of sleeplessness.

The weather has been absolutely amazing the last few days... like we're walking a bridge between summer and fall and are lucky enough to get a week with weather that embraces the best of both seasons... the warmth and sun of summer tempered by the moderation, comfort, and change of fall...

As I sat in my living room, reminding myself I didn't have to work on Thursday and encouraging myself to take advantage of this rare day off to finish healing from my illness and just generally get a few things done which have been slipping through the cracks (whew), the smell of someone smoking on the street drifted through the open windows...

Late night smoke always reminds me of living on Magnolia Ave. with Ben... he was working a 2nd shift job and would come home about 10 o'clock at night from work... we would hang out for a bit and chat, and then I would go to bed and he would go out on the back porch and write... typing on an old manual typewriter and smoking cigarettes.

I would drift off to sleep to the steady beat of typewriter keys and the strangely comforting scent of smoke... Man, those were some great times. And simple times. And already, a long time ago. So I guess I had a little moment of Proustian nostalgia (best... etymology... ever: nostos - "a journey home" + algos - "sickness").

My voice has been pretty cashed from being sick so I've been taking the opportunity to try to write lyrics with no music... with the idea I'll go back when my voice is better and write the music... this is the opposite of how I usually work I guess... but Jay and I had a discussion a little while back about writing this way, and I've been trying it more and more... letting the lyrics and melody guide the music.

Anyway, I had a verse worked up I pieced together on the train on Monday as I was riding home from work, feeling sicker than sick... I took that verse, and tried to capture my post-midnight-insomnia-smoke-induced-pharmaceutical-influenced-weather-seasoned nostalgic feelings...

 UNTIL WE COULDN'T CRY NO MORE I missed your opening And lit the lights And crosses faded Into the night On top of copper Needles raised Into the sky And for the saved I'm reminded how I Sat with you and cried Until I Couldn't cry No more The smoke, it rose Into my room And down below The fires bloomed In tiny breaths The life was passed From lips to lips From first to last I'm reminded how I Sat with you and cried Until I Couldn't cry No more

jbg

We Couldn't Cry No More

I missed your opening And lit the lights And crosses faded Into the nights On top of copper Needles raised Into the sky Above your eyes I'm reminded How I Sat with you And cried Until We couldn't cry no more

jbg

One Month

Until the Chicago Marathon... Which I'm running. Three months of training down and so far, I've survived and I feel okay. Well, to tell you the truth, a lot of days I feel pretty awful. My legs hurt, my ass hurts (TMI), my skin is fucked up from sweating for four hours at a time...

I'm hungry ALL THE TIME and I'm tired ALL THE TIME. But... I'm almost there...

Also, I'm running as a Charity Athlete for the American Cancer Society... which means I'm raising money for the ACS through the race. If anyone is interested in sponsoring me, you can donate by going to my page here.

Help me turn my pain into someone else's gain.

Love,
jbg