Filming "Of Life, I Want to Live"

Waking at 4am on my boat Faith..
Deep night fog makes my one-oared, standing row of Jimbo like an Italian character in the prologue to a Murder, She Wrote novel..
I row him down the line of moored boats, and, completely out of character, smile and wave at the skipper of a trimaran I have never before seen..
At the shore I giggle boyishly at my successful dinghy leap over wave onto the sand without a drop of water to wet my boot.

Car it out the 8..
It is December, yet the predawn Cleveland National "Forest" is merely crisp, promising a hot, sun-drenched desert-like day.
With an apple for a bong and a smile in my heart, I strap my guitar, tripods and cameras to my back and begin to hike..

Halfway up I'm nearly out of water (if you've seen the video, you've seen some dancing) and, like an over-heated motor, must lie in the shade to cool.
From here its rations and ditch the guitar..

Several times I nearly turn around for want of a drop..
But the summit calls me..

Here's a link to the Lawson Peak slideshow and Lawson Peak photoset on Flickr.

Of Life, I Want to Live (Song & Video Release!)

Releasing a song & video each month is a chance for you to hear music that transmogrifies (as most Bullets in a Burning Box songs do over time). This, for me, is the ultimate liberation. Just release... With the distant opportunity to change, re-arrange, alter lyrics, add bass guitar or follow whatever yellow-brick road materializes within my tumultous head.

Also, it allows a month of fresh air to flutter the lyrics. There is something about being an artist, in that, pieces of my current emotional milieu stir themselves into the present song or art piece.. (Writing more than one song per month creates bland, identical twins.) The month (okay.. sometimes two months) allows wide soul space to draw in all chi and exhale some gargantuan dragon breath.

This month's breath is called "Of Life, I Want to Live."

Watch the video here (free download available).

Storm Day!

Storm day!
The wind is like a circling, fierce wolf.
White caps tip the bay like a Chinese army in a fog.
My neighbor's dinghy has nearly become forfeit to the sea.
Faith rides like a see-saw (sp?)
Yours truly quelled the temptation to expose, then pile the generator beneath outdoor pillows.
Its a querrellous, primal day.
On the boat.
Meditate your way to me, Daedalus.