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Monday, September 08, 2003 np: john wesley harding - "kiss me, miss liberty" at first i wasn't always incredibly fond of john wesley harding. granted, i find him to be an infinitely entertaining performing artist. his live shows are hilarious and enjoyable. his albums didn't draw me in as much at first. but they've slowly ingratiated their way into my ear. and i'm liking them more and more. if all goes well then my radio show starts back up this wednesday. you'll be subjected to my weekly playlists once again. i've had two shows back these past two weeks and both have been incredibly enjoyable. i love being up there and i hope it shows. i've been struggling to write again of late. creativity seems bursting out of my head but i can't pin it down, electronically or otherwise. sometimes at school when i have free time i manage to sketch out ideas. but since i pick up the last class this week, i doubt i'll have much chance to do that. i'll be teaching full time starting this week for the next six or seven weeks. exciting. i'm getting really into this. as continuously tired as i am, i'm enjoying teaching. it's a great relief to me. considering that up until this point, honestly, you really don't know if this is truly what you want to do. student teaching is the make or break moment. and for me..it's making it. loud and clear. -- drunk and laying in threadbare would-be shag carpeting my chin against the floor leaving an imprint in my skin. you are beside me and we are plowing the dust for my lost plectrum. almost hopelessly. but it's comfortable and in searching i locate the hieroglyphics. i run your fingers over them and beg for translation. and the words tumble over me, enveloping. you had the neck of the guitar between your fingers and you were every bit of fifteen as i was fourteen again. i closed my eyes and played the part of the awe inspired boy with the older girl crush. and though i never play intoxicated i hashed out one for you. slowly. surely. and in the end down in the carpet before i fell asleep humming amelia we took a knife and carved our own dead tongue into the wood. posted by J. Neas | 9/08/2003 01:51:00 AM
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