The Season of Big Spiders

Hello, Sweet Readers,

I’m sorry I haven’t been adding to your inbox lately. I came down with Covid on tour and I’m still trying to get my energy back to 100%. It’s heavy quicksand to shake off. I can report, with gratitude, from the front lines that the vaccine works as do the precautions of masking with hand washing and sanitizing. I’d be in way worse shape and way more people would be sick if those protocols didn’t work. The good news is we CAN enjoy live music and art in a pandemic when we are careful and respect each other. I saw a lot of the really great parts of humanity in the past month and I don’t want to go away from performing for that long again. I’m a much finer animal with that balance and joy in my life. I hope you all have gotten some of that in the past while as well. I love you guys. 

When I first got back home, I was very foggy (still am) and lethargic. Between the Texas abortion ban and Covid beating the shit out of my system, I am depressed. There’s no other way to say it. It’s terrifying. Depression is a place I don’t want to return to for any reason. Quarantine opened the airwaves to its mosquito songs and I’ve sat clenched for two weeks. My muscles hurt, it feels like faint strychnine poisoning leaving my system all crampy and stubborn. (If you were ever a tunnel-head idiot who thought it was fun at 14 to smoke shitty crank or ditch-weed, you know what I’m talking about.) Coming down from the adrenaline that sometimes accompanies extreme sadness is a terrible place to be all alone. BUT I’m a little mule and I keep going somehow*. 

*with the help of people who love me checking in on me.

Since I parked up at home the large spiders of September moved in and I’ve noticed them all around the place. They remind me of something. It’s not the spinning of their webs... it’s something else. If spiders could Google themselves, they would no doubt be disheartened at the focus on building webs. Around 50 percent of spiders world-wide don’t even build them!! They are not all arachnids, and the males aren’t always as tragically insignificant as a mate-and-eat meal. I think spiders are dying for some new stories that highlight their other gifts --  patience, self reliance, brutal elegance. I love to watch them test a new thing with their front legs up like they are conducting music. So solid but light in their stance. Maybe they would like some music written just for them? Or maybe just for us to push the boundaries of who we think spiders are? Maybe they would like to be considered from such an elegant stance, so solid and liquid and even upside down for a change... and I’m listening. And I thank them for giving me a reason and pushing away the mosquito songs.