A Hazy Red Crescent
Aaaaaaaaaaah, the inevitable let down.
Not really, not completely, there’s just a ton going on. The record, the tour, mailers, running, work, work, work — oh yeah, don’t forget to eat! Life… you know. And all guitarless. Like an alcoholic without booze. Or a confessor without a priest.
Fortunately, I have Beth Orton to keep me company, to keep me dreaming. And I have those moments when it’s ok, it makes sense.
Tonight, it was walking home from the Upper West and spying a hazy red crescent moon draping it’s light across Hell’s Kitchen. Phew. It ain’t so bad after all.