Rainy Day Blog

There’s a strange unsettling calm that comes right before going into the studio to make a record. Usually, I’m not gigging much at this point. I’m not booking shows or even writing songs. If anything I’m just playing the material I plan to record, or more likely, doing nothing important at all, but worrying about how it will all go down. Do I really like the songs? The arrangements? Is this the right studio or instrumentation? Should I quit and start selling real estate? What am I doing with my life?

I recently heard an accomplished poet say that he had to give everything in his life to poetry, including the idea of giving everything in his life to poetry.

And as I type this, I can see a robin standing in the dirt path in my backyard. Through the glass door a blue-grey sky is wetting the trees and unmowed grass. The blade of a table-saw next door is slicing through the silence. And somewhere out there, you are reading these words on a screen. You, with your own sounds. Your own worries, sleeping behind hopes and chatter.

There are places we all avoid, and thing that seem too great to give — the knot in my stomach and tension in my shoulders. Rain is now playing a delicate rhythm on the roof and a sparrow whistles from a treetop somewhere.

And I could swear I hear this moment whisper, “stay here for now. Stay right here. Right…here”


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4 Responses to Rainy Day Blog

  1. markchello says:

    Hey bro. I’ve been listening to Rickie Lee jones, _the sermon on exposition boulevard_, and thinking, damn, art is beautiful. Selling real estate can be a honorable walk. But if you can make art, you have a co-creating, almost redemptive power. You are, metaphorically, saving the soul of the world. So go forth and be awesome. And hey guess what, you’re more and more finding your eliot voice. Which no one else can take from you. And which, if there’s justice, aliens of the future will obsess over. The Romans called it fama. It’s not fame, in the crass sense. It’s renown, good repute, honor. So yeah baby, irony and all, fit the gesture to the moment. We live in a time of raging irony juxtaposed with a terrible searching, a wrenching sense of living through an historical cul de sac. You are the archetypal guy who makes us laugh and then gives us a pang — like a stabbing pang. Making it personal, but letting the whole room in on the joke. I don’t know how to say it any better. Keep it up tiger. You speaking for us.

    • eliotjames says:

      Hey Mark,
      This is possible the best (if not most unusual) complement I’ve ever gotten! Seriously. Made my day. Hopefully I understood it.

      Anyway, Thank so much,

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