Such A Small World

Bass player Holly Brandon drives up to Hagerstown from the Washington area now and then to jam with friends I play with around here, and so we’re Facebook buddies.

Checkin’ in on FB over coffee this morning, she had referenced a clip with the band she plays in, “Amazon”, gigging at Sullivan’s in Laurel — my old haunt near my old digs . . . and so on to the video’s original poster (should I friend her?) and on to YouTube and . . . back to Amazon’s — the band’s — page on Facebook.

I don’t know what to do with music today, but I’m sure to find out . . .



I haven’t set up for MIDI — I would love to underscore, but it’s not happenin’ this morning; for youthful road trippin’, the studio’s a little more complicated for keeping than, say, a suitcase, guitar, amplifier, and hatchback — i.e., my small business needs work, from  documents (editing) to weddings (photography) at professional (grownup) rates; and I feel separated from the music gypsies by two M.A.s in other fields; plus, frankly, the assembly of monstrous parallel persona, which may one day be enough (after all) to get me to lock myself in a room again with just a guitar.

And voice.

There’s a player’s party coming up fast in this neighborhood, so I will pick up the guitar, try out the new “mallet finger” — I can hold and steady a pick, but my finger picking days may be done — and work on getting back my left hand’s fretboard callouses.

With the synagogue’s choir (last rehearsal – Wednesday night; performance – Friday night): three pieces from the Holocaust Cantata.

Anyone else living between lives and worlds?

Do tell.

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