I AM AN ARTIST.

These stars wash over me so far away that I can barely breathe from where I lay.
And never have I been so far from home or the years I was cut from sand and rain.
I'm calling through the ebb and flow.
I'm calling whichever way it goes.

Desert rock and rosemary carry dry and bloodless on the breeze, make me new.
Blow into my face again, blow between the bones that shake and knock me through and through.
I've been away so long I lost you, my love, my song and sight.
You give me anything you want to.
I'm bound to keep you right.


My heart longs for too much and mine eyes have hardly seen enough to know its need.
And never does it stop or slow.
I press my ear against the ground to know the song it sings.
I'm calling, fear running through.
I'm calling.
What more can I do?
Tell me, what more can I do?
I've been away so long I lost you, my love, my song and sight.
You give me anything you want to.
I'm bound to keep you right.
You give me anything you want to.
I'm bound to keep you right.
Oh, to keep you right.
Oh, to keep you right.
Oh, to keep you right.


Blind Pilot Keep You Right

These make me happy

7.7-8.2012

Don't even try to say your city is more beautiful than mine. Lovely, lovely. Mine.

Ondine is not fond of thunderstorms, so we have to wrap her up in a blanket until they are over. She stayed wrapped up like this until 5 am this morning.

7.6.2012; or Gabe is 24! or We Are Tourists!

We took our Aunt to see Opryland Hotel and to eat at Chuy's

When we got home, Gabe and I drew pictures and listened to records and planned out our near future as artists.