I've got arms growing out of my vines

'Perfect.'

'Yep, pretty dismal. Het het!'

The FedEx Ground driver just came to pick up the last load of the evening and his heh's sounded more like het's. His name is Steve.

I decided to just play the bass guitar. I can build with it. My fingers feel so much more comfortable stretching across its strings and frets and wood and such than on an acoustic guitar that makes me want to cry more than it makes me want to sing. I reworked a song I wrote about being sad and alone for the bass guitar. It sounds more cheerful now and thus more bearable and perhaps a touch ironic.

'I can build songs with the bass guitar' is what I keep thinking because I think I can create something I would find full and bold and compelling.

I just want to evoke I suppoke. Ahem, excuse me, suppose. I stumbled upon this project of someone I know nothing about. He seems ambitious and has spurred some fascinating music from some artists I admire and aspire to be like. He wrote/is writing a children's book about a mythical land his great grandfather discovered called Murkville. A group of great bands wrote songs inspired by Murkville and put it on a soundtrack. It is quite lovely.

I drew some goofy pictures today on some extra pieces of paper that I had.