I’m Not Sleeping (I’m Resting)

It was twenty degrees running along the river this morning. But as I ran eastward on 72d Street past The Dakota, the sun peaked over Central park a raging orange. I felt like Icarus or something, blinded by the glare, suddenly warm, flying almost.

I’ve been working out verses as I run. I did a five miler Sunday morning, and wrote a second verse for an end-of-album type song I started Saturday afternoon. It’s all finger picking — not like bluegrass or anything, but mellow and more articluated then strumming — and picks up where my well-worn story about watching the sun set in Santa Monica and rise in New York City left off.

You know, the story I told on every tour stop before playing “California,” and ended it with the Aimee Mann told me, “It’s a good life if you don’t weaken.” It’s all about landing the plane, and arriving home, which is significant to me because so much of my songwriting has been about crashing and not being home.

So it’s kinda’ thematically interesting, some sort of closure. Anyway, it’s not done — I need a last verse — but here’s the second verse.

The New York City skyline
Like a thousand shattered diamonds
Just scattered but still shining
In the early morning air
I’ll see you when you get here
Where the sun begins its struggle
Where the streets are strewn with rubble
The avenues with dreams

If I can whip up a third verse and a middle eight (bridge) by Thursday, I’d like to demo it along with a handful of other newish tunes (“California,” “Hollywood Arms,” The Albatross”). And I emailed Michael Lockwood, who said to call him when I’m in L.A.! So maybe he’ll be producing whatever I do next. We’ll see — one step at a time. I’m thinking something very acoustic, kinda’ lo-fi (in contrast to “Crash Site), something whipped up in a few days, more EP than LP. Then I want to release it in New York and Los Angeles on subsequent nights.

See? I’m not sleeping, just resting.