Tuesday, September 17, 2013

your eyes like crashing jets

That seemingly eternal desire to make music dangles again tantalizingly, and this time the pieces seem to be falling better into place. A common musical vision instead of the usual attempts at pigeonholing disparate tastes and personality. These things are things that make me look forward to the evenings and the weekends even a little more. We're all past the point of dreaming big or even of cult bandness and that's reassuring.

And last night I'm in the kitchen once again, we're slicing vegetables together, stir-frying and stewing, because this companionship is simple in a world where so many of us fly solo on basic things like sharing meals. We know each other's habits, snark, and talk about guitars and what we've been reading, how our day went. I miss these things about having roommates and it's wonderful to have this talk over a warm meal again.

We head out originally to go see a mutual friend play but detour for coffee and yerba mate to drink along the pier gazing out past the dark waves towards the glittering city, end up driving around all night listening to music, cruising through the industrial wastelands and the forgotten ethnic neighborhoods, even the worst parts of town are zenlike peaceful on a Monday night with a stereo full of tunes. I'm wishing I had my camera, I'm thankful that the night turned out this way, I haven't done this in so long and I miss these haunts so much even as the city evaporates in chemical smoke beneath me.