| Wanted |
[Tuesday
November 1st, 2011 at 10:52am] |
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| Studio In New York |
[Thursday
October 20th, 2011 at 3:38pm] |
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| Intermission on Life |
[Friday
August 27th, 2010 at 6:24pm] |
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I do not even know in months, days, or house how long it has been since I have been in the states. I remember the last pair of dual colored eyes I saw, the last smile I saw, the last breath I tasted, the last tear... I did not really expect ta come back here ta the U.S but one of my pieces was picked up for a song and made it big here. I need to come and do some business but that doesn't mean I cannot add in a little pleasure and seeing Kitten will definately be that. Here's ta hoping she is up for a drink or seven.
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| i feel like i am making up the life i want.. |
[Monday
March 9th, 2009 at 10:30am] |
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My trip to LA was interesting. I found myself tested and thankful for interruptions that give me a chance to look at the situation. Though I have to admit, Emma was a nice distraction from my anger. Not that it ever lasts long. I'm not a big grudge holder and once I cool off I'm good. It's odd, I am so used to being away from Kit, but this week has been especially uncomfortable. I told her I'd be home and she...called Hilton Head home. Should I look into that? Or just let it ride. I am letting it ride. What she means one day may be something else entirely another day.
But fuck if I don't miss her. My flight got in this morning, early. I got home and opened the door and expected empty spaces. Not so much. Her stamp is here in small pieces of furniture here and there. The movers are arriving today with my things from Vail and all of it but my piano are going into the garage. She can pick and choose from it what she wants or doesn't. As much as I miss her though, I am a little glad to have the house to myself for a little while. I can focus on some new work before she comes in with her wild eyes and distracting fingers. I finished a big thing in LA that amped up my bank account some. I ordered the art from New York shipped down. The walls are bare and I think it's time to hang some of Laurent's things. They can't stay hidden forever. I thought about her, his daughter. I left Vail and didn't say a word to her. At one time I thought she could be a sister, a part of my family even if she wasn't blood. But fuck, you can't collect family you never had. She's made that clear. I left a forwarding address though, so if she was really interested in more arguments, I am sure she will find her way. Arguing with Frankie isn't something I want to ever do again. It's bloody annoying and completely pointless. There is never any ground gained, just her yelling and accusing. Hell if I need family like that. I am done here, the truck is pulling up and I need to tell them where to put my Piano. |
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| I Have My Notebook ::Private:: |
[Sunday
November 16th, 2008 at 12:49pm] |
My flight to Vail got in at a God awful hour. I had meant to get Rilee to pick me up, but decided forcing her to drive out to get me from Denver at four o'clock in the morning was a bit drastic. Instead I rented a room and got a bus in this afternoon. Its easy to do, Vail always has bus loads of tourists in and out. The air smells like winter and pine instead of rain and dirty streets. I want to just toss my stuff and go hiking but I need to get some sleep before I do. I think a few days in the mountains before the snow season hits hard will do me some good. I can not hike passed December until mid March so I will try and get in a few days now. Then, I plan on holing myself up in the flat and writing a few pieces I have dangling around in my mind. Kit, brilliant Kit, brought me back my notebook. Blood marvelous is what she is. The flat in New York has never been seen by Rilee and that is clear by the complete lack of homeliness to it. The colors are warm and the furniture comfortable, but it is stale and cold. I am not there enough. Kit cooked food. Noting Rilee would ever make. She is more of a homemade soup and butter slices of bread warm from the oven. But when you're hungry the taste of burnt grilled cheese and canned soup is just as satisfying. Rilee, bless her sweetness, would never understand that. I don't imagine she understood that while all her efforts were lovely ones, I could care little about the scent of sheets, or the fluffiness of comforters. Half the time I sleep passed out on the couch anyway. When I write this, when I think about it. Maybe that was the problem. I think she is a wonderfully beautiful person, but all the things she should be appreciated for were lost on me. She gives will work so hard over a full course meal, holiday style, wine, everything as perfect as she can make it without realizing that a burned grilled cheese and a bottle of beer will be just as perfect for me. I do think I went off on a ramble here. Maybe I am comparing two women that are incomparable. I haven't called her for our tea yet and I don't think I will until my hiking trip is ended. |
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