Anthem

One of the sweetest creatures you know, Carole Taylor, wrote about the importance of having a favorite spot in New York.

A sanctuary.  Where one can return to recharge.  To resurrect hope in yourself and return to your labors with continued vigor.

And you completely agree. 

But you've lived in some pretty terrible situations.  And over time, your favorite place, your corner of comfort, wasn't found in a location, but an anthem.

Sure, you've been making up odd songs for decades.  Long before you could actually sing.  Or play guitar.

But these songs, these anthems have kept you focused.   Torn you away from the self-destructive habits idle worry and fractured self-esteem can produce.

So, here's one you wrote this month.  While you waited, lying on the cold wooden floor for your mangled and muddied boxes to arrive.  While you slept feverishly and lost track of day and night.

While you rode the subway , you sang this song,   Breaking the cardinal rule, you stared into the eyes of those quiet, forlorn women, and you sang.  You sang because you wanted to cheer yourself.  You sang because you still believe, on some grand, fundamental level, that you will one day be loved if you sing the right song perfectly to the right person.   You sang because song-making is one of the last objects you control.  A method of  communication have mastered with time and care.

Here it is:  Let's call it " On the Island"

Video's upside down.  Either push play and do a headstand, or close your eyes.