This song is written to my better self, the one that shows up and takes things lightly and doesn’t catastrophize and generally acts like an adult.
Tag: guitar
I started singing these two verses while walking a neighbor’s dog during the COVID-19 quarantine.
A hot day in Kaliyug, a walk in the green, and of course any walk during Kaliyug is a walk through fire.
The final act of the alpaca lips.
Each verse (and the bridge) is a scene from the Ithaca, NY area.
A lullaby for big kids who are feeling February.
Some riffs that feel good on the hand and voice.
It’s February in New York. This is what came out. Look, it’s not up to me.
A love poem about a breeze that falls in love with the lake it touches, but is (apparently) unrequited.
A blessing: May the nature-of-things hold you in the palm of its hand.
