Whenever I sit down to write, make music, or sketch (my latest interest), there’s Jay Sherman in his room, yelling “It stinks! It stinks!” before I’ve even made a mark on the page.

My hope is to eventually turn my inner monologue into the words of the doctor treating him, patronizingly saying “Yes, Mr. Sherman. Everything stinks.” In other words, just don’t take The Critic seriously.

I even made this little parody of a motivational poster to remind me that when I hear that voice, it’s really just Jon Lovitz pretending to be a mentally unbalanced film critic.

Why am I sharing this psychological insight with you not long after talking about getting out of my own head? Well, you may be able to help me in my quest to Be the Doctor instead of The Critic. Or maybe not. Stay tuned to future posts - this might eventually make sense.

As a songwriter, I’ve been pretty stuck in my own head for as long as I can remember. I tend to favor impressionistic lyrics, snatches of ideas mushed together into a whole that I hope is greater than the sum of its parts. More often than not, the phrases tend to reveal something bigger than themselves, but don’t really tell a story in the traditional sense.

I usually associate that kind of “story” writing with cheesy country ballads and CCM artists singing about the love of their daughter, but realized that some of my favorite songwriters (particularly Ben Gibbard from Death Cab for Cutie) also use it to great effect.

I guess I’m starting to learn there’s a benefit to getting out of my own head.

A literate country - a hopefuller country…

- Former Leader of the Free World, George W. Bush

Recent events have transpired to make me less despairing of the future. Here, in rambling, semi-coherent form, are a few of the reasons I feel, well, “hopefuller.”

Perhaps it’s the change in the weather. Warmer temperatures, longer days, more sunlight - these are all very positive developments. It’s almost embarrassing how much better I felt after our first few days of spring-like weather this year.

Another plus - today’s my birthday. The entire month of May for me usually is measured in “amount of time preceding or after my birthday.” I’ve come to the conclusion that I enjoy this time year so much because it was the first season I ever knew. I can just imagine myself as a baby, being used to spring and summer, suddenly feeling colder air coming on in autumn and thinking, “Dude, WTF?”

Yes, in my mind, infants speak in IM/txt acronyms.

I’ve spent at least 10 minutes each day for the past week and a half near the water. My current favorite spot for this is the waterfront park in Gardiner. I’ve taken to eating my breakfast there, watching the waves, listening to music in my car. It’s a great way to start off the day, and I can’t imagine why I never thought of it before.

Also, I don’t want to jinx anything, but Carla’s been feeling better. This by itself would be a huge relief.

Last, but not least, I’m enjoying ideas again. Who knows if anything will come of them, but I’m not shooting down any weird creative possibilities my head may invent just because they’re weird and creative.

This feeling may stay. I will allow it.

Don’t be frightened to display your talents. - Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, as just seen on Twitter

Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded. - Fortune cookie taped to my monitor

To celebrate the momentous occasion of having seemingly survived the worst of winter, I’ve uploaded another new song to my Bandcamp profile. Well, not exactly “new,” as the song’s been percolating for about 5 years in my head, and in various live configurations. The recording’s only been completed in the past few months, anyway. It’s called "Light of Day," and it’s something I wrote to remind myself. Of what, I’ll let you decide, because, hey, maybe you need a reminder, too.

As usual, you can download it for free (all I ask is your email address, so I can keep you in the loop when I make yet more music), or pay whatever you want to download a higher bit rate version of the song.

Take a deep breath, enjoy the weather, whatever it’s doing (it’s supposed to be sunny and mild here), and let me know what you think.

I originally wrote this back in September, after hearing the news of David Foster Wallace’s suicide. Recent events have caused me to rethink why I was sitting on this post…

Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.

David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest

The sad irony of this passage is that the man who wrote it as an observer (“you or me”) became the person for whom the fear of falling couldn’t overcome the fear of the flames.

Apparently, David Foster Wallace battled crippling depression for over 20 years. The antidepressants stopped working. I think this is the part that sticks with me. At least two of the most important people in my life are wrestling with depression right now, and it scares me to think someone can get so hopeless that this is the only way out they see.

It might not seem like much to those feeling the flames, and ultimately, it’s trite and cliche, but true. Something like this really does make you think about the big stuff - what’s important - and hopefully let the people you love know that they are just that.

Loved.

When panic grips your body and your heart is a hummingbird
Raven thoughts blacken your mind until you’re breathing in reverse
All your friends and sedatives mean well but make it worse
Every reassurance just magnifies the doubt
Better find yourself a place to level out

Bright Eyes - If The Brakeman Turns My Way

I couldn’t stop listening to the album this song comes from all last week. I didn’t realize how prescient the opening verse of this song would be…

Interpretation for those who aren’t me: There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the piano version of “Return.” You may resume streaming, downloading, and basking in its awesomeness.