Reflective, Resigned, But Resolute

It came to me like a vision: fresh-baked, still-warm chocolate chip cookies and vanilla ice cream.

It’s the little things, really, the simple things, that sustain me.

I’ve been meaning to integrate digital blips and beats with my acoustic guutar for ages. It’s the impetus that led me to Kevin’s studio to remix “Summer’s Gone” years ago. It’s the reason I got ProTools and a keyboard. And it’s the reason I borrowed Ethan’s Kaysound MC-25. My mom bought it for him from Amazon for ten bucks. And it provides the foundation of possibly my finest solo musical accomplishment to date. Set the rhythm to “Rock,” hit record, and go …

I napped most of my Saturday away. My week was that punishing: Thursday night out, Friday night out, Saturday … in. Between naps, my windows flung wide for the breeze, I recorded, “Untitled.” It sounds like I felt: reflective, resigned, but resolute. I put my new, lyric-less song to bed at 1:30 this morning. Three and a half hours later I woke from a terrible dream. I was battling my way through Central Park with a broad staff, spinning and parrying past evil creatures springing from a dark roadside. I woke clutching my pillow so tightly that my right arm was numb. I climbed out of bed and looked out the window. The sky was slipping from black to blue. My day was begining.

I walked over to Chris and Jen’s at 5:45. The streets were empty. The corner stores were closed. And I listened to “Untitled” on repeat: reflective, resigned, but resolute.

The four of us climbed into the red Isuzu Trooper at 6:30 and pointed ourselves southward to Long Branch. Jen was running the