Man, I’m so glad to be here on the West Coast again. Nothing against the mountain states, but it’s just less rarified here. I can feel the sea.
I’m psyched to be close to home now too. I’ll see my old buddy (pictured) again tomorrow night. I hope it’s not too confusing for her, I’ll be in and out then, up to Seattle and back then out for another week.
It’s the final stretch, nerves are frayed on the bus. All those little things have accumulated into a profound annoyance. Last week I was hating everything I played, and all the sounds were bugging me, but now I’ve blasted through, as it’s all a matter of perspective, it is so easy to get way down, inside the paranoia of solipsism, when your waking life feels like a dream, and you can’t seem to move through the soup of the day. No! you have to take your perspective ever higher, like swimming actively against that current. Man, our loving fans helped me over the tide the other night (Bellingham!) Took me right out of a mean and cold swirl into a warm and righteous vibe.
You have to come through the dark place, that is the American road story . . . Headed West, to the promised land, which is nice, (especially if it’s not raining) but not really the utopia promised. The paradise is in your mind and spirit, and is earned on the journey.
Bellingham WA, Sunny coolish.