March 11, 2008
I am a victim of the Indian Summer.
I am a victim of having spent my days lazily, on straw bails, frailing banjo - of being afraid to go inside where it was cold and dark. My tragedy was to ignore the tasks that I had set before myself. I have ignored my book for an Indian Summer and through the cold Winter. And now the frost has gone away, the chills that occupied the corners of studio have warmed.
And here I am in Spring now, and I do not feel guilty. I do not feel guilty for having turned my machines only occasionally since the Indian Summer. I do not feel guilty for the songs I have played and the sun I have consumed and consumed me. Because I am the victim of the Indian Summer that fell into winter and cooled the air of studio - because I am the victim of happiness. I do what I please.
Now, please excuse me while I pick up where I left off.
I have book to print and it is Spring now.
Sincerely,
The Manager
Archive: 4/8/07
Archive: 8/21/07
Copyright © 2008 Speak's Letterpress