ella ella eh eh eh

i got home this morning. early; i took the red-eye from san francisco.

i'm back in my apartment. drinking some weird vanilla-infused vodka that pope must have left here, because i certainly don't drink this shit.
but right now it's perfect all watered down with tap water and no ice to be found ion the house it's boiling hot. cathode is on the stereo, i am finally landing. i haven't been home for seven weeks.

the true colors tour went off without a hitch and we had a relatively awesome fucking time. we got to sing happy birthday to cyndi lauper backstage (rainbow connection) and a week later, to debbie harry (space oddity). we made new friends, we got to see first-hand what our lives could possibly be like if we're still touring 25 years from now. the tour seems like a long time ago because of all thats happened since. i took one day off in LA and went to Santa Cruz to visit with jason webley and Evelyn and Evelyn. sandy fishnets stopped by (www.myspace.com/sandyfishnets) which was pretty awesome. she Always wears sunglasses.

while we were there, my mother emailed me that my beloved cat from childhood, govinda, passed away. i loved her a lot and was sad.
she was my mostly companion and a very smart cat. there was a cat named poo-roo at the house and poo-roo would cuddle with me every night and so i felt there was some sort of cosmic cat-happening.
jason comforted me by pointing out: Cat Still Exists. that somehow made me feel better. wouldn't it be wonderful if it worked that way with people. for instance, if your loved one suddenly died but you could just walk outside and see another person on the sidewalk and say: "wow. look! another Person. how handy."

i went to LA for a live interview/conversation with henry rollins, which went splendidly, he's an amazing man. very neurotic and very black and very white and very passionate about everything he talks about. he talked alot and i listened and tried to get him to probe deeper into his intimacy issues. he said he simply didn't hug. i gave him grief for that repeatedly over the course of the night ( we were in a beautiful outdoor courtyard at the hammer museum and as we talked the sun set). we wrapped up the talk and both greeted fans and i noticed that every time henry would go to do a photograph with a fan he would do this trés military stance with his person, whereas i would sort of melt into my person like a polyamorous barnacle. a photographer came by at the end of night to get shot of us together and henry grabbed he in a great big bear hug and everybody applauded. there is hope yet for breaking down his intimacy barrier. maybe i will crochet him a little Black Flag throw pillow to hug in the meantime.

then i flew back up to santa cruz to work on my some music. we did a day of pre-production in the house behind the strip mall then we drove up to a chicken ranch studio north of san francisco where tom waits recorded most of his stuff up until 1999. it was quiet and covered in hay and just stunningly beautiful. the piano was a massive baldwin grand from the 60's that had just been re-strung and restored and it sang. i wrote a brand new song in a studio that was empty and painted with corn stalks.

we recorded it the next day. i've read about people doing this i never believed it was possible. but music doesn't need to be so precious when you're not thinking about it. so i just didnt think about it. we cooked omelets in the morning and worked into the nights. there was nothing else to do but make music. we just played. i pulled out some of the old stuff, provanity, another year, point of it all and we did new basics because the piano sound was just perfect perfect. i don't even know yet what happened. i'm going to have to decide when i listen back. but i think it was amazing. i was just on this weird Make Music autopilot. i only answered what email was essential (my inbox right now is at 519) and jogged. i tried one morning to get into laura nyro and failed.

there were huge blackberry bushes across the street from the studio and i picked them and my hand turned all purple and i came back to the ranch all smiling and holding my hands up and the studio interns thought i had murdered someone or been in some awful accident.

i was in LA for a few visits. on one visit i saw the world's only live mash-up band Smash-Up Derby play at safari sams and danced til i was devastated (go go go: www.myspace.com/smashupderby. i recommend "smells like billie jean", but "closer to rock and roll" was pretty excellent as well, especially for you NIN fans). i drank on an empty stomach one might with zoe and ariel and only vaguely remember spending the end of the evening in ariels bathroom getting really fascinated with the micro-zoom feature on my digital camera and taking a lot of pictures of my teeth. on another visit i met with this incredible string arranger, paul buckmaster, that ben introduced me to who i think is going to work on the record. he told me all about the mag-lev train in shanghai and katie kay came over to pick me up and he made us strawberries with creme fraiche and sake sauce. i found a film agent. i'd like to do soap operas where i can play somebody named Alexis or Chandra or be in the color remake of eraserhead (and play the deformed infant).

i went back to san fran to play at paul's absynthe party. a few hundred people and a truly fantastic space. i saw a colorful collage of girls in powdered white wigs, silver paintings on the wall and huge day-glo mannequins and the rest is kind of a blur. i remember dancing topless at a pole in the dancing room and eating an extraordinarily delicious pad thai. then i got on a plane and came home.

somewhere along the way i finished reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. i mentioned it in the last blog and now that i'm done all i can do is say please read this book. it ties it all together.
we were lying there one night and jason's friend had just died and we talked about the way that Here We Are. how it all happened is totally random and very soon, we're going to be gone. Cat Still Exists, on a grand plane. all you can do is not take it too seriously, try to enjoy yourself and this confluence of coincidences and laugh at the fact that you happen to exist RIGHT NOW. now now now.

i read the part about the buildings coming down when i was on the plane to come back to santa cruz to see jason. i knew he had read it. i cried the whole way, i had just finished tour and i was raw as shit anyway. nine eleven, dresden, love death and finishing and everything old and dying and everything new and not understanding. people falling in reverse from the floor to the sky and back up into the smoke and making the last call where we who are still standing standing can only imagine, the way you have toif you stop for a half second to think about it. who hasn't imagined that.

i have a few days to gather myself, see my family and rehearse with aberdeen city for our three shows and then head to scotland to be with my people at the fringe.


and

all i know is that "umbrella" is haunting me like a crackwhore i owe money & i have to deconstruct it and destroy it to find peace.

ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.
ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.
ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.
ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.
ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.
ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.
ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.
ella ella eh eh eh eh. ella ella eh eh eh eh.

sometime in my lifetime i will find the answer to the peaceful between pop schlock and freedom.






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