It’s a rough night. Too many plans re coming to naught and women who stop talking to you when they land men show the extent of their interest and people who don’t like Celtic bands show the extent of their taste. I’ve shown the extent of my talent by having a hard time playing Paul Simon tunes in 9 and the extent of my patience as I fail miserably with venue after venue after venue after venue. Perhaps event the extent of my courage as I shy away from having to admit the extent of my failures as I pray for rain.
I’m at my open mic in Reisterstown at Java Mammas and Heather’s playing Simile Blue which pulls at me. I hate not playing it along with her, but for the purposes of the night we are separate entities. She’s working the tune for all it’s worth tonight, holding the room and owning it beautifully. A modern peril, she loses one to a cell phone, another to the coffee grinder. It’s strange to watch her play the chords – it’s been so long since I’ve just watched her play, only listened – she’s painfully beautiful and I’m amazed that she’s been willing to hang out in ilyAIMY as long as she has. She could do great things and I worry that I drag at her sometimes.
I’ll be fine in a bit – together we’re far more powerful than we would ever be alone, but she’s got greatness in her.
