Where did her letters go, notes from far-away places written with care about her work and little everyday things. How light the paper was on which this all was drawn. How eager I was to know what might be, and what might have been, and what is, and it was all beautiful to read. And …
Author: Tony Starling Kidd
Dealer in fragile things. Crafter of urbane low-fi antipop. Really quiet singer.
jane
Jane Street’s complement of Belgian block pavement begins at Hudson Street and runs three blocks to the end of the street at West Street. This is Jane on Jane Street:
three things
Three things cannot hide for long: the Moon, the Sun and the Truth. ― Gautama Buddha
creative work
Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It's a gift to the world and every being in it. Don't cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you've got. ― Steven Pressfield, The War of Art
courts
you are the sprinklers on This is courts:
i release you
I release you, my beautiful and terrible fear. I release you. You were my beloved and hate twin, but now, I don't know you as myself. ― Joy Harjo
one day
one day, you will awake from your covering and that heart of yours will be totally mended, and there will be no more burning within - Patricia Jabbeh Wesley, from Love Song for the Newly Divorced
musical chairs
Last night I sat on a little red chair and sang for around 30 people. Some were sitting real close … their closeness was almost air to me. I was singing some new songs, really new and raw, so I wanted as much closeness as I could have. But probably only two or three in the audience were really that close …
far away
Winter arrives early and takes its place at the window. The sky this afternoon has filled the air with snowflakes. There’s just a little light now in my upstairs studio, pale and lonesome as faraway music. I’m dying to take a break from the songs I’ve been writing, but seem to be unable to. I’m afraid to fall out of the groove. …
gold dust
Everybody in the crowd last night was beautiful and young and covered with a kind of gold dust. My guitar was a bit out of tune, but I’m glad that wasn’t fixed. A twist of the knob and, you know, the dissonance would have gone away. But I left it alone. I left things on …
