somewhere in the east

it figures.

right?

the long slow
damaging ride pulls
into the driveway.

what once sang of will
and then pride
and then defiance
and then wash out

metered out only
in vague passion
not unlike denial,
tired and incapable.

T.S. Elliot was right.
James Joyce was right.
Lou Reed was right.
my guidance counselor was right.

even if there was time,
well lit boundaries and
phone calls answered right away.
even if there were you.

"will" is no longer
an engine. no more propulsion.
hardly a sputter. froze up
and quiet.

Walt Whitman was wrong.
he is very understood
and he was never beneath my feet,
waiting somewhere vainly.

it's the money you see

the exact money i do not have.
david and i were doing a late recording
session in my basement
last
night.

good times. working on a solo
album... or duo... sorry dave.
i suppose.
you don't
mind
right?

attempting to record live...

here are the mics we're using

Shure SM 86
Shure SM 57
AKG 214
AKG 212
Sennheisser 421

excitement. we may have gotten two, "in
the
can."
so to
spea
k

that was not a metaphor.

blush

grimm

tyrant... tired.

take me to the mountain
slip me into the sea
let go, let sink
loose of anyone
loose of anything

no new wonder met
every sigh breathed
just as, just is
sad to say
sad to see

with feet heels down
stretched out toes
spread far, spread late
swing open
swing close

Monsters INC

Monster Recognition

With little doubt, the first step in getting well, clearing a path back to the pond, is learning to recognize a few truths. The first truth, no matter what any one adult has ever told you, is that monsters do indeed exist; they live and work in your mind, your energy, your demeanor, your touch, your sleep, your anger, and most warmly in your denial of monsters.

The term, monsters, really came to me when a friend was talking about how he steers clear from cocaine. He said, "It became something dangerous, with a voice I couldn't ignore. It was inside me." Frightening. To be sure, I'm not talking about cocaine in this blog. I've never snorted cocaine, never had the desire... seemed to me, as far as I could tell, that cocaine was really expensive and I rather spend my money elsewhere.

When the word monster is spoken, it becomes real to me. This living being that careens and swerves with deliberate wanton severity. Not so much human, no lungs but a capacity to scream and to shake. I suppose it would be amorphous... the only form that comes to mind is the large hairy orange monster from Bugs Bunny, you know the one that's wearing high tops? Humorous digression aside, these monsters start small and grow... not some deformed grotesque abomination... that description would be more apt in describing our own likeness after giving in to the monster within... no, all monsters start out as small fetal things... defenseless, however...

Suckling on your disappointment in yourself and those around you, these monsters can grow almost as big as you, any larger, as in some cases it has been reported, a person's personality ceases to be recognizable. They become someone else, entirely. The monsters' nest, your brain or maybe your heart, certainly your liver with all that bile sloshing around, cannot be removed by conventional means. Fire. I guess self immolation would work... but that would be extreme. The first step in ridding yourself of emotional monsters is to stop feeding it. Yes it will be angry and start knocking at your door... sending you chain letters... sending you updates from Farmville on Facebook... undermining your trust in humanity... allow you space to question your friendships, your loves.

Those are the actions of a desperate monster.

But to be clear, and back on point, the less you feed the monster(s), the better you feel, the easier to communicate, the easier it is to sleep, pay attention to traffic at 70 miles an hour, cooking dinner, reading a book, volunteering at a local library... happiness should be free... monster-free.

The second truth: The people you love may be the people who cannot recognize a monster from granola bar.

Grimm

parts of speech

article: A
adjective: tired
noun: musician
adverb: quietly
verb: reconsiders,
interjection: "Yes!
conjunction: And
pronoun: you?"

pressures

sometimes i have bad dreams. bad. for example. every once in a while... while something particularly stressfull is occurring in my life... i have bad dreams. the most common, for me, is this one where i'm revisiting a house or building i used to live in and to get to my bedroom i have crawl into and eventually through a small space, barely shoulder length wide and always filled with stuffy air. my heart races... my arms begin to twitch... i'm not stuck but, i cannot breathe. for the life of me i cannot take air in or send air out. scary man. scary.

i guess i feel like that now. i was commenting to a friend the other day that something big was on the horizon for me. good or bad, i couldn't tell you. but i know it's there. i can hear its slow thud. it is heavy. for certain.

my blog is in disarray... my websites out of date. i am out of date. the record was tracked but needs work to be done on it still. mixing, mastering... maybe a round of touch up with a little extra tracking.

hard to tell. other projects are under way. we're composing by looking at the stars.

spent some time at a birthday party in carroll county. i miss carroll county. open open open space... i'm sure harsh chemicals are treating the soil... but the sky was this thick blast of blue... the sun clear, hot. not angry hot like in the city... just matter of fact.

in the city... during this heat... there was a dead rat out front of our house... at first i didn't notice him... i'm desensitized to dead rats, i suppose. but the next day he grabbed me by the nostrils and bid me to notice him. I named him, Stinky.

After a couple weeks he has been pounded and ground into the asphalt... joyce carol oates... at least i think it was her... had a poem about roadkill being mashed into the pavement until it took the consistency of a an flat dish rag... i changed his name to Skinny.

he has since moved on... washed away? floated up? scraped off? faded through? blown to?

who knows...

i'm struggling back to my small space...

Grimm

holding, deposits

new june star record
takes next step
we record june 23rd-26th
@ lord baltimore recording.

will let you know
the next step.

meh

grimm

again and again...

hi there... nothing real new to report...

other than having our equipment stomped on and careened into
at bertha's the other night. I hear you... preakness! it's
an excuse to get so inebriated that you have carte blanche to
destroy and murder whomever you like. thanks to the door man who
let them in... picked them up off of the floor and led them to the
bar for another round. the 1960 camco drumset thanks you! our
pa equipment thanks you for destroying it... yes... for the mere sum
of $250 we took in some damage!

huzzah fell's point... you may have one this one... once and
for all...

what's better is that those folks were blissfully unaware of the
damage they did and have done...

re-thinking the music thing!

Freebird!

Grimm

Explosive New Chapter in the June Star Saga!

not entirely true.
we have been off the grid.
grazing on our fortunes.
locating our muses.
they had flown far off.
the distance blurred their voices.
but now, some how... by a design of fate.
inspiration returns. frilly and wholesome.

me?

i've been a long term sub
at my old school. hanging with teenagers.
piecing together the next version of the band.
shakey but promising.
that reminds me of my prom.

we're slated to start recording in june.
it may happen. there is some doubt.
the doubt is in my mind. as time, the ultimate commodity is quite precious.

i have been tired lately.
new sources of energy and motivation will need to be tapped.
breakfast? lunch? dinner? gym?

pressure to pursue the muse.

no?

grimm

rough mix?

cold and hazy

a sudden realization
bob dylan spoke
the truth in
his admission of
why he writes.

the songs or
words seem to
come to him
without political provocation
and revolutionary passion

they are, as
macleish stated on
poetry, it shouldn't
mean, it should
merely be. word.

so much time
spent reading about
how or why
fewer minutes grinding
out words, melodies

time to set
to the task,
hoist a flag
fix a stare
cock the head

strike up digital
band and self
let the current
control movement and
fate introduces destination

the unconscious prevails,
speaks, betrays without
fail and corporeal
honesty, sweetness, devastation.
you ready yet?

oh... morning and the coffee

how difficult, do you suppose, can be it to click out all these blogs? i don't have a set plan. you see, i sit at my computer, christmas lights plugged in, and i begin to tap. sometimes a thought will come up and i'll work with that for a bit, but usually i have no real idea where that is going. this week though, i should focus. i should try to organize some sort of form to the week. next week i'm back in the classroom full time, until june 16th. then, after the schooling is finished, the kids have gone, and the room is clean, we will record the next album. i have some new kind of ideas that should be neat. for the first time we will be recording one place, mixing in another place, and mastering somewhere else! sounds like fun as far as i'm concerned. huzzah. huzzah. so. where does that leave us? many preparations to get it together... literally. some rehearsing and strategizing... putting together a short tour in july and august... maybe i'll take in a lunch meeting with my cat.

reverse, inverse, perverse...

So, let's go back a minute. Let's just hold up. My brain, in all its saltwatery, bloody function, is having a hard time processing the current situation as it has played out for the past few weeks.

The tour concluded, and my weariness quickly shifted to a warm sense of safety (maybe irony...) and belonging as the Baltimore skyline appeared on the left. Baltimore, home. Without derision, without disappointment, we drove up 95 and through the Harbor Tunnel and into David's neighborhood. No welcoming party but we felt welcomed anyway.

So, it's not safety that we felt. We were both feeling the same thing, though. Not safe,though. Safe means there have been threats and injury cast around, flung, pressured, pushed, or poked at us. America, or at least the America we traveled greeted us with smiles and handshakes and cd sales and encouragement and more smiles, it's a nice place, except for southern Missouri and northern Arkansas; they are blasted wastelands of smoldering ash, barren of hope.

Familiarity, a warmth in knowing where we were, a personal "knowing" and that sense of home eased us into Baltimore. It was more like we drove into it, though. Like passing through some sort of bubble or barrier, a cloud I suppose, but what it comes down to, is understanding how complete or thorough this sense seemed. Permeation. Spending two weeks burning through the Midwest and the deep, dirty, thick, sour, sweet, lazy, and swampy South and far from home gets past your skin and in to your bones, but home is the marrow.

There was no question about where to turn, what time to load-in, where to eat, where to sleep, how much is that, what kind of beer should we buy...none of those questions were urgent anymore; we already knew the answers. We could have taken our hands from the wheel and still have ended up at home.

Now, as my clicking gets a bit tiring to me... and I look at my office space... time to rethink my mode of operation... long term sub job starts on April 18th... Ends in June... two months of the straight job... funny how people see me as "figuring it out" in terms of the full time job. I have figured out nothing. Except some people are more generous then others, that discipline is a good thing, even if I don't have it all the time.

Today, I rearrange... make a goal... pick up an amp... tonight we play at Joe Squared Pizza for a dinner show... we'll see how that goes, eh?

Andrew

lapsed in effort

hey there,

lot's has happened since we last spoke...
sxsw was interesting... at best... no opportunities
to play but many opportunities to observe. we have
a plan now... and we will execute.

i was sick for the better part of the first three
days of tour... lost my voice... regained my voice...
i'm at about 90% right now... little rock arkansas was
fun... really enjoyed meeting kat and all the folks at
the after thought... expensive dinner, but fun times
for certain.

i'd like to drop a special note for southern Missouri
and northern Arkansas. You look like you need a vacation...
barren... wasteland... seems like nothing will ever grow
there... i have no idea about people survive... or at least
how they define living in those areas.

Cicero's... you were fun... real rock star feeling and vibes...
pizza magnificent... one lone car... delivered and powerful...

night off in Alabama... we stayed with old friend, Keith Harrelson...
he runs Moonlight Music on the Mountain concert series. Last night
James McMurtry played... he sounded great... we were reated to a 12
string acoustic version of Rachel's Song... yow.

tonight, we're playing in Atlanta... meeting up with some folks...
making friends and influencing people!

vocal cord status

my voice... though weak
has returned. last night
we played the much vaunted
cicero's in st. louis. really
nice place... with nice
sound, nice sound person, good bands,
and really well crafted beers.

st. louis is home to budweiser...
and you would think that that
juggernaut of crisp bold american
taste would be everywhere... but it isn't

schlafly's... that's the brew to buy...
man... there was another beer too... hop slam.
dave handled that one... not me...

been giving my voice as much rest as i can,
still coughing up some nasty flakes of
phelgm... thick, sticky, green... ugh.

enough of my charm and candor... we saw
a wolf yesterday... walking up the exit
ramp onto a highway... at first we
thought, coyote... but they're much
smaller... odd to see something so wild
and "mysterious" as a wolf trotting up the
expressway... guess he had to get somewhere
faster than a rural route.

right now dave and i are in Pevely, MO. A
super 8 motel... off of Highway Z. I must
admit a pang of fear rifled through my veins
when I saw Highway Z was a real thing...

images of zombies lurching east and west...

scary dude, scary.

grimm

the road

much like cormac mccarthy's post
apocalyptic novel, our spring tour
has been caustic. my throat, coarse and
dry has lost all of its vibrancy...

i had just come to certain conclusions
about my voice. a new vocabulary of
sounds had opened the other night and
now i am shut out... access denied.

jerk.

i am on the mend but must say that
i really value my ability to speak
freely... since i had lost it. I was getting
nervous... tomorrow night's show is

important since we're moving up to a
larger club... playing with other bands.
last night in columbus i had to do a
low down storytellers version of our set.

mostly spoken word with weary scratchy vocals...
think kris kristofferson and barry white...
in fact, at the beginning of the set i did
a barry white impersonation... quite sexy.

dave has done most of the driving. he is
a peach. for certain. i found a new throat spray
called vocal eze... it's an organic compound of
licorice root and marshmallow root... sweet!

so far seems to be working... i also got the
chance to start editing some of the video from the
microshow... very cool indeed. thanks to everyone
who came out for the experience...

okay... i promise to keep up with the blog from here
on out! okay?

okay.

Grimm

so long february...
guess i didn't get
around to blogging much...
no one seemed to miss
me and seemed like a good
time to hibernate a bit.

tours have gone well... we're
gearing up for the big
march push... several great
dates are coming up...

here's the run down

3/10 Microshow, Baltimore MD
3/11 Cafe Nola, Frederick MD
3/12 31st St Pub, Pittsburgh PA
3/13 The Treehouse, Columbus OH
3/15 Cicero's, St. Louis MO
3/17-18 SXSW, Austin TX
3/19 The Celtc, Pascagoula MS
3/21 Smith's Olde Bar, Atlanta GA
3/22 The Rye Bar, Athens GA
3/23 Elliott's Revue, Winston-Salem NC
3/24 The Cave, Chapel Hill NC

Good Times!!! Just Me and Dave touring...

Yah... wish there were some new news going
on... but it's tough out there... trying to
stay motivated and moving forward...
maybe I'll go work out? will that help?

oh.. you never know, right? taxes comin'
up... that's a great reflection on how much
beer i drank during the course of the year...
yikes. :)

Grimm

vision/revision

my calendar fills
itself: gigs, rehearsals,
phone calls both
foreign and domestic

home in cellar
basement, underground dwelling
drawing more attention
takes more strength

like

treading cold water
shallow dead breaths
chatter teeth blue
black ocean gray

horizon slow and
distant, moving away
the earth moves
the water sways

there could never
be; this could
never be; holding
hands becomes a

dream, to feel
skin on skin.
a grasp, the
reassurance of safety.

grimm

returned

good morning folks
david and i
returned back north
here to type
the progress status
check for completeness
completed under caffinated
conditions. springing adjectives
vetted stories without
revealing too many
personal opinions that
may seem negative.
virginia, you're weird.
period exclamation point.

crowd was large
they love music
we slow, emotive
you polite, obligated
us mediocre performance
you mediocre response
venue quite classy
staff so friendly
food love affair
hackensaw boys great
fast and faster
end of night
scary by wiry
psychopath communing between
here and darkness
snappy snap fingers

north carolina becomes
home again, the
cave as shelter
as friend and
welcoming gentle arms
crowd, you are
wonderful, responsive, happy
us: on our
game for certain
and certainly pleased
performance peppy, light
retold psychopath story
of yester virginia
laughs and smiles
night goes fast
money in hand
slaps on backs
encouraging words exchanged
goodbyes and laters
return engagement imminent

grimm

pulling no punches

so i've listened to the demos
found some old music worth mining
constructing lyrics now...

slicking up the drills
break through the crust
the the first layer will give
dry weeds and dust

water hides deep
beneath any secret
we will ever keep
silent as bodies at rest

guided by guessing
anything so random
speaking of blessings
and nearly undone

by way of retreat
back into the earth
plausible belief
nothing is deserved

wary of the water
tired of the dirt
sound grows longer
dying of thirst

mud turns clay
cold, thick
bones will decay
feet and fists


practice makes prefect

grimm

where do i sign up?

This morning, the humidifier and i are having a conversation...


Andrew. Click clack clickety
Humidifier. glug whirrrr glug
A. Click click Click.
H. Gurgle whirr glug.
A. CLICK CLIick clack plink plink
H. WHIRRRRrrrrrRRRrrrRRrrRrrr
A. Plink tap tap click clack tap tap tap
H. Beep glug glug whirrrrrr beep
A. Sip click beep clack
H. whirrrrr glug glug glug


So as you can see I have a very close relationship with
my humidifier... although we are allowed to see other appliances
I keep coming back to the old Holmes Humidifier... you should
see the size of its water tank.

Grimm

for tenth time

my basement...
my workshop...
my dungeon...
my world...
my escape...
my fortress...
my downfall...

listening to demos
for future june star albums...

what to pick... what to do...
over thirty songs in all...
more... to record...

words slowly percolate
patient, i'm picking
them up on
my song radar...

signal to tape
digital tape, certainly...

bytes and jots
stored on cpu...

maybe i'll watch
tron...

grimm

things in boxes

this morning i am rooting through boxes
in my basement. deep twinges of "holding on"
spark and a sort of sadness bubbles up. i've
come to love the dry dusty smell of these boxes...
sitting in the dark for three or four years at stretch.

quiet because they are patient... memories anxious
to be held or just seen, again. today i will have to
say goodbye to some things... other memories and
items i will merely say to myself, "not yet."

grimm

the scramble begins

some day my
body will come
to rest, gently.

it will roll,
tumble, twist,
and slide. by

some slight chance,
maybe a patch
of green tufts

will act as
a cushion to
my still form.

wholly unexpected and
truly grateful for
its simple existence,

i will acknowledge
the gods whom
i had ignored.


silly poetry out of the way at this morning... coffee... subbing... 2 hour delay... another hour... more time spent booking and researching the internets for places to play! exciting times they are! whoooo... hoooooo... i can't help but feel a bit unorganized... maybe that something i should work on...

these receipts go here.
these folders go there.
this drink goes here.
that pork bbq goes here.

speaking of pork... we're heading back to Chapel Hill soon! Huzzah for us... good times abound when head back down to that land of simmering pig.

grimm

searching and scratching

just a quick note for today... rehearsing for tours... booking tours... eeks... saturday at the iota is shaping up to be a fun night... without a doubt... oh iota... you fanciful little thing...

other stupid stuff i got to do... clean things... laundry... find paying bar gigs... ick... mailing list... play some music... humidify guitar... the list is seemingly endless... i suppose.

meh.

grimm

worst case scenario

i snore.

there's no getting around it. my nasal passages become inflamed, the flap dividing my sinuses from my throat loosens, my mouth agape, these conditions attribute to the rumbling wheezing guttural gagging freight train noise my wife attempts to sleep next to, every night.

i feel bad for her.

i take muicnex d
i use breathe right strips
i use breath right snore films
i use a netti pot

i still snore.

on rare occasion though, i sleep... a deep intense sleep. for four hours. then i wake up suddenly, very alert. my dreams on these nights are vivid. last night my dream was an combination of many issues... disconnection from my childhood home, past students i had taught, relationship issues, and zombies.

usually i'd say zombies frighten me more than most things... but in the mix of all that other stuff, i find myself extraordinarily unnerved.

i was standing in my brother's room at my childhood home... out back i was watching several men kill zombies in various manners, but they were taking their time, in no hurry... as they were feeling successful... i could see the white picket fence posts next door being knocked down by more zombies.

side note: okay... so white picket fences... i get it... american dream being destroyed by the empty shells of people who strove for the same thing... we had a split rail fence in reality...

the men in the backyard were not quite concerned about the on coming zombies.

now i'm in a bed, i'm not sure whose... but i am there in... in the backyard, the backyard is now my brother's room, the men are doing somethings but it sounds like they are trying to sleep... on my back, i can feel pressure, like someone pressing with thin fingers... in an a different context the pressure would be called, tickling; in this case, however, it is terror. i am laying on my stomach, i slowly turn to see a dog? a doberman... but the doberman is a zombie and i must destroy its brain. i slide small metal cylinders into the temples of the dog's head and it leaves... i now have a flashlight... i am able to turn it on... i am aware, as we all are, that zombies retain a scant sense of who they were, my light shines on Tony... Anthony... I cannot remember his last name... i taught him at Francis Scott Key High School 1996 or 97... he drove a sports car... although now, in my dream, he has lost that hair and put on some weight... he is wearing a tuxedo... blue shirt... yes, ruffles. he announces his plans to marry a zombie, she is not a full zombie yet, but she's getting there. I see them kiss.

i wake up... unable to return to sleep... my nasal passages jammed up...

grimm

the top to bottom

awareness allows for few mistakes
a simple thought
funny how folks tend to move, shake,
drawn by bad decisions. imperceptible
lines of energy lock and drag them, like
a magnet.

no words, no advice, no diagram,
no role playing, no flags, no code
can ever redirect their path

i suppose

the grit underneath our skin, in our
bones, that will get us by.

but getting by does not mean
success or even happiness.

getting by suggests survival
suggests the bare minimum
suggests life support
suggests basic

at some point the grit moves us
to elevate, to work, to envision,
to believe (again), to refine, to engage,
to fire, to shape, to produce.

grimm

Midwest Tour Day Four and Five 12/14 and 12/15

as late as this may seem... my functions are in order again... my fingers
know the way. the tiny, impossible bursts of electricity form words
from gray salty matter to clicks on the keyboard have found purpose.

the coffee is ready.

st. louis

anticipation heightened in nearing the gateway to the west.
out of nowhere, all of a sudden, shazam... it stood there, a big
ol' arch. none of us had seen it before. for the first time i could
say that some giant structure really "loomed" above.

the arch seemed impossible too.

the drive itself did not present issues or problems, save for one
moment where we almost smacked into a center divide... safely
navigating that... we drove into an industrial park...

dave was navigatin'... and at first looked like it was going to suck. big time...
there was nothing around... nothing at all... scary, if you ask me... what if
east st. louis somehow organizes itself to beat the shit out of st. louis... we were
near the border!

anyhow, as i was planning my apologies to the band, for booking such
a place, we turned a corner, in both the literal and figurative, and ended up
on an ice covered residential street, at the end of the block sat Pop's Blue Moon
Saloon.

Capacity 75.
In House PA.
Mics and cables available.
First beer is free.
Set Times 9pm-12am

Terry, behind the bar, was a large mid-western man who appeared
to have seen much... stoic to strangers at first. I introduced myself as
part of the band... the ice began to melt, a little.

He shook my hand and gave me the run down on what was happening.
Terry's interest in keeping a well oiled bar was evident.
We loaded in... checked out the PA and began setting up...

check one
check two

hello st. louis...

Andy Herrin from One Lone Car came out and brought us
a kick pedal for the drums! What a swell guy... looking forward to
playing with them again! for certain.

As the crowd started coming in we met several nice folks... probably about
15 people came in... in such a small place you start to feel loved.

At the end... we packed up... the bar paid our tab and Terry gave us
$60... more than I know paid at the door. Times like this, I love America...


Columbus, OH

7.5 hour drive to Columbus... we started our trip at a diner...
chicken fried steak with white gravy... my heart persevered somehow...
good times though. the drive was easy, no bad weather... lots of coffee
and truck stop here or there.

we get to columbus, and following the directions, we found ourselves in another industrial
park. i kid you not.... but this time... there are no houses... I began preparing my apologies
again... "sorry fellahs... really i am." we find the treehouse... and no one is in sight... we sit
in the van... heat on... watching a mystery science theater on my iphone... funny!

the joint opens... we go in... labyrinthine nightmare! it is a cool place... but i was kind of
reminded of "masque of the red death" by poe... the twists and turns create a maze where you
cannot see what is in the next room until you are in it... yup... same thing...

the room the bands play in has an enormous tree growin' out the ground and through the roof...

no shit.

pretty neato,for certain.

Chris the bartender lays it out for us:

First Drink is Free
In house PA
Mics and Cables available
Set time: 10pm-11pm
Set Order: Swimsuit Edition, June Star, Wussy

Swimsuit edition showed up... set up... they were great! I really enjoyed their set... energy and
quirkiness! front man was pretty funny...

our set was solid... 40-50 crammed into the room to see us... they clapped at all the appropriate
times... lots of fun... excitement... we were really happy to play... sold more cd's than normal... 17.
mailing list... all filled up... we felt good about ourselves... really happy to have so many people
listening... people we didn't know... the end of the night we had a 14 dollar tab... and we received
$100 from the door...

Thank you Columbus! Seriously...

Grimm