into the new
happy new year! many folks have called 2020 the worst year ever, but i don’t see it that way. there is always good and bad, and while the bad of 2020 was of epic proportions, the good was, too; a new sweetheart, new songs, a new record, a new video, a new local residence for my daughter and son in law, a new relationship with a new grandson, new friends, new endeavors, new firsts. i proved to myself once again that life evolves and i can continue to grow, and, in spite of everything, adapt.
fire up the new year
after what seemed like an intermedable year of rollercoaster politics, global pandemic and social distancing, 2020 is actually coming to a close… how did you fare? what changed in your life? how did life continue for you despite these events that almost seemed to make time stop? and, finally, do you think your perspective on life has changed permanently? i ask these questions because i’m amazed at my own answers, and i’m super-curious to hear what others have to say…
to the river we go
and the months continue to fly by like autumn leaves swept up in an indian summer wind… i write as America awaits its political destiny after an arduous 2020 that divided our country along political lines based on a virus. for those of us who came of age during the vietnam war, this outcome is literally like science fiction. i hope to God we can return to each other as brothers and sisters in a shared ideology; this isn’t the first time our country has been divided, and it probably won’t be the last. as a friend said to me in 2016, “don’t worry, johnny, America is stronger than you think.”
urge for going
Happy fall and harvest moon. It’s that beautiful time of year in the northern hemisphere that brings autumn and the waning life of the growing cycle and, for many of us, a period of reflection on what has been and what’s to come…
sliding into september
what looked like an endless summer is suddenly slipping into september… somehow i was blessed to wind up in the middle of an artistic renaissance reminiscent of laurel canyon in the late ‘60’s and early ‘70’s at donna green’s magical moon farm in marshfield, massachusetts, where, after literally farming with donna last spring, i’ve been acting as music director of the summer saturday music series... ”live at magical moon barn” has been an island in the covid storm for musicians and audiences alike with socially-safe performances from 12-5 every saturday.
midsummer night's dream
life has taken on a surrealistic hue that feels like reality imitating fiction. i’m spending most of my time on boston’s south shore at magical moon farm with the lovely donna green. i am helping out with the farm’s many dimensions, not the least of which is its weekly music program. this has been a lifesaver in the time of covid, with socially-safe outdoor performances. the musicians and audiences have appeared and we all get to revel in something resembling normalcy— the creation of community in the midst of isolation.
not a drop of rain
welcome, summer 2020, creeping in after the languishing months of our new, slowed-down world. the arrival feels like a slow glide into a pool of cool water instead of the usual splash into the ocean. i wonder if i’m paying more attention to time, or less... a book and a hammock seem productive in our alternate reality; a seizure of life’s vitality rather than a retreat from it. and i really don’t want the old normal to return- at least not until summer’s over.
ghost
as we move deeper into the wilderness of the pandemic, a confluence of events conspired to push our latest track out to social media and our friends and followers. i wrote “ghost (amen)” last summer in the still of an august night full of heat; a lonely echo and the presence of an apparition to keep me company in my musings of the desert and the journey over life’s incredible tapestry. the van gogh brothers took the track into woolly mammoth just before the pandemic and david minehan recently layered in his formidable production skills to create the landscape that you now hear. visual artist jason archinaco created this incredible graphic spontaneously while listening and our 15th album now has its cornerstone track and album cover.
halfway home
i’ve stopped thinking about “social distancing” and “sheltering in place” as something i’m expecting to end and more as something that’s just going on in the world today. in other words, i’m not expecting a “return to normal,’ nor am i imagining a “new normal.” i suppose you could call that acceptance, but it’s not that either. it’s really just living in the moment without looking ahead and without looking back. i have hope for the future, but i am not imagining what the future might have in store.
everything zen
how fast life can change, right? i was writing about upcoming live shows, recording and travel just 30 days ago and BOOM- here we are in a whole new reality one month later. this pic was taken in provincetown, just days before life changed and it reminds me to stay in the moment, where everything is zen, and the only place joy is ever found.