The Rumor About the True Things

More album work.
Yesterday, our best friend Damien's father, a professional photographer of note, had a wonderful photoshoot with us, trucking around Bushwick and "East Williamsburg" shooting frame after frame, shouting interesting encouragements (Damien makes so much more sense now) and buying us beer. It was a wonderful experience, and great to see a man I already respect in his element.

This album work is becoming interesting, though, and not in the way I mean when I'm talking about, say, guitar amplifiers or bike wheels. There was a time, not so long ago, when this album was my final tie to the city. I was madly in love, and it was clear though not always spoken that, when the album was done and we had played it out a little, I had a pressing obligation southward. As we rapidly approach the end of the project, I find myself feeling a whole strange bunch of emotions at once, not the least of which are recapitulations of the abandonment I'm now aware of again. And I don't trust my long term plans anymore; and it's rubbing off on my relationship with Kay when I have more than every reason to trust her blindly; and I'm not sure what to do next (with my life); and I'm getting really, really tired of L's enduring legacy being one of distrust and uncertainty.