July 18th, 2006.

I’m stunned with Life at the moment. Small bird-like, shivering and stunned like some Ani Difranco metaphor. Friday night Heather and I played a long, long night over at Jimmy O’Donnell’s in Baltimore. A last-minute gig, and one of the most exhausting venues in our repetoire. Normally we play for about two hours, maybe even with a half-hour break in the middle. My favourite gigs probably last about two and a half hours, and the really exhausting ones are three hours. Jimmy O’Donnells asks for music from 9pm to 1.30am with a 20 minute break. That’s about four hours of music, and though we can do it, it leaves us pretty wasted for the following day.

Pirates on the brain at MICA, too. Last Sunday we played a show out at my old college, the Maryland Institute, College of Art, in Baltimore, MD. I think Heather was expecting me to be the glib one (well, I AM the glib one) but – like unusually so or something, and was thinking that I’d have all these great MICA stories to pass along… but really, a lot of the show made me kind of really, really depressed. I mean, the MICA that stands in Bolton Hill, Baltimore in 2006 really is nothing like the school I attended in 1996. The decade difference is painful to witness, a school that has a completely different spirit. I can’t imagine this school, with its sports clubs and computers, as the same thing as my blood and paint memories. Even the surrounding city, North Avenue itself, seems somehow tamed. I miss MY Baltimore, though I could never Live in that place and time again.

Being wasted for THIS following day simply wasn’t an option. All-day festival at the New Deal Cafe…

Jimmy O’Donnells was just as exhausting as I’d been expecting. Between set-up and breakdown we were there from 7.30pm to 2 in the morning, and I didn’t get back to where I was staying and showered (so neccessary in this heat) and settled till well after 3am.

Man, playing at MICA thanks to Justin, Heather’s brother – but but but… someone should’ve TOLD ME MY HAIR WAS DOING THAT I LOOK LIKE I’VE GOT A FUCKING COMB-OVER!!! Daz not aight.

Still, a very good night. The audience was non-existant, with only a couple of hard-core drinkers rendered pretty incoherent by their poison of choice. We had Heather’s parents and Sara (these are separate entities, not to be confused with the incoherent ones) cheering us on, but they’ve heard all these tunes before. In any case, Heather and I fly through our sets, pulling out rarities and Love songs that have lost so very much over the years… or perhaps simply shifted. We actually play very, very well, and I think no small part of that is me trying hard to impress… but by the end of the night, I’m eager to be gone and down and absolutely unexhausted. My fingertips feel like hamburger, and the techniques neccessary to make them feel capable again are esoteric and rare, quickly learned, but requiring of attention, affection and time.

A side note – I’m actually writing this from the College Perk and open mic which is suffused with people feel pretty damned good. Everyone’s hot, everyone’s tired – but everyone just seems to be pretty damned chipper. I’m in such a high mood myself, that it’s pretty good to not be annoyingly up compared to everyone else. The general consensus, as we’re wrapped by friends and their noises, is that Life’s okay.

The sun rising over Seabrook, MD – it seems I’ve seen an awful lot of dawn recently. It hurts me in a way, but there’s also a great deal of satisfaction to starting a day AND ending it.

The next morning, we’re getting up at 5.30am to meet Rowan at his place to load equipment to haul it to New Deal to start the day to play ALL day… Rowan’s not too pleased with the early start time, but properly approached and excitingly caffeinated, shortly enough he and Sara and I are hurtling towards Greenbelt grinning from ear-to-ear and singing Jane’s Addiction tunes. That suffusion of joy lasted through most of the day, assisted in no small part by the sheer talent brought together for the event.

There’s something amazing about surrounding yourself with people that you’re amazed by, that you admire. For Saturday’s event, drawing both visual and musical artist friends together and organizing everything, running from booth to booth, checking up on people, making sure they’re okay… liasing with the musicians and making sure everything runs according to schedule – it’s a lot of fun to be in charge of soemthing so relatively large. Shame about that whole “no audience showing up” thing.

College Perk, Tuesday the 11th – absolute chaos and overcrowding. I had to park behind a neighbouring restaurant much to my distress and chagrin.

Heather at Jimmy O’Donnells in Baltimore, MD.

I can’t even express how absolutely joyous the New Deal festival was – and there’s a lot of connotations to those words. I was effectively surrounded by friends and the friends of friends. Musicians that I can’t get enough of, players like Tom Bianchi who flatter me with their mutual admiration, and players who make me cry with their writing, like Dan Zimmerman. Joy, to me, is an emotion of elation edged with a little bit of sadness – knowing that this was probably one of the last times I was going to see Tim (Might Could) perform, and knowing that events like this are going to inherently be rare.

Very similar emotion to last Tuesday at Perk, where I’d ended up sitting outside just to be alone, and slowly friends formed up around me to make up a song circle. The open mic continued oblivious to this noise, and we listened to the cars go by and listened to one another and were content.