Joanna Newsom
For inexplicable reasons I’ve been feeling dreadfully tired lately. Maybe it’s the hovering in between of nowhere – neither moving forward, nor falling backward. My mind is, thankfully, filled with thoughts of writing possibilities, should the plum position fall into my lap. Other than that nothing. I walk, I shop, I write badly, I wait for news. Starkey’s such a tremendous source of joy it actually breaks my heart to have to leave him every morning to sit in my father’s car, fending off questions, remembering how I went mad, why I left home. Then I snap and scream. In the car, and cry, until I grab my morning latte from the bistro. That reassuring warmth of normalcy.
I am rocking off the edge of concrete nightmare lands into places more real and I thank you for rocking your weird and opening doors to the places people call “crazy”
I gotta get outta this place.
Love
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