Monday, August 27, 2018

New and Alone

It's all art. The ones we call "artists" are the ones who recognize the fact. What passes for self deprecation is really just my comfort in my station in life. I tend to blather about my "failures" and my "lack of talent."

Well, sir, I'm not looking for comfort or sympathy. I don't fight for airtime or battle for chart positions. Oh, I've spent money that I couldn't afford on radio promotion and, when an americana chart was new, I kept my eye on the goldarned thing. For a little while. Seems it only noticed me for a little while, too.

No, I sing for the stars and I write to save the world. My music is in the ether. I suppose I'd sing on key if I could, but where's the fun in that? If God wanted me to play guitar properly, why did he make Steve Connelly? Terry Ware? Andrew Hardin?

My so-called career is a treasure and a gift from the cosmos. I'm the luckiest guy you ever met and I love you.

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