The best part of Face Book are the accidental encounters from decades past. In this case, Stan Grosse, artist, teacher, mentor to so many….going back a lot of years, here… and I ain’t telling…but, Stan’s the guy who taught me that nothing is permanent. Art happens, it gets produced, feted, fussed over, then usually left on some forgotten shelf in some forgotten place in a some forgotten time…and after the first wow of birth and creative blast, it’s gone. Not gone from the world, it still exists, but it’s gone form the point of view of the artist who’s mind who is sizing up the the next sequence of shit that’s hit; broken romance, broken promises, hip replacements, the failure of our political system to do, well anything…you did it once you can do it again Stan told me…and he was right.
As I sit in my studio practicing to a metronome, the most unnatural thing a musician must bow to, trying my best to remember lyrics I wrote but for what ever reason escape the tongue right when I need them most…I’m thinking about you Stan. With those thoughts and a Xanax, it all comes back to me. I know these songs. They were my best friends for a minute. Hell I’ve written dozens of them. Then I’ve let them go. They buzz around my brain, drop in once in a while, but what’s important is not what I’ve written already rather what I will write tomorrow. And you taught me that. And it has saved my ass a million times over. When I hit the studio next week for a 4 day marathon recording session, know you will be sitting in the control booth. You will be telling me, “that’s a good one, now do it again, no creation is that important and nothing will last for ever.” So, not being big on humility myself, I think it’s over rated…I will do my best to do my best…then just let it all go……………….