Compost for Spring?
SOME WEEKS, it just feels like everything is turning to shit. Which is, after all, part of the natural cycle. Turn to shit, turn to compost, return to earth, die into winter, then resurrect in spring, renewed and refreshed.
In spring. But not today. Can’t be happy all the time.
For those who watched my Couch Concert 3.0 live, I thank you for your support and TLC. It will be my last. It’s insane, being my own producer, director, set designer, lighting director, audio engineer, videographer, technical director and, oh yeah, performer—live, in real time, singing into the void.* Not fun.
Instead, I’m returning to my neglected commitment of recording a “Song of the Month” every month. I’ve got enough material to keep me busy through the next year and beyond, so if you find enjoyment and meaning in my songs, I’ll keep them coming for you. If not, then they’re more easily ignored in this format. Either way, I think I’ve found the perfect price point for every budget.
Confronting a Climate of Complacency?
MAKING incremental progress with Climateers: Our little group is gathering youth on Instagram, where they live, working to inspire them into climate action—in the world and, at home, in their families.
Based on my own, scientifically unsound, anecdotal peer review, I’ve come to the conclusion that most Boomers, Gen-Xers, and older Millennials are aware they/we are currently losing our life or death battle with the unforgiving physics of climate change, but aren’t willing to endure any significant loss of comfort or convenience to retard its advance. Apparently, that’s just too much to ask.
So I’m planning on encouraging their children to question their complacency. If reasoning, educated adults won’t face reality on their own, act on the evidence that is unfolding all around them, or even be slightly roused from their trance of consumption by the guilt of destroying their host planet, maybe they will respond when their children and grandchildren ask why they continue this relentless indulgence, destroying all semblance of hope for them, their own flesh and blood, in the foreseeable future—and essentially, forever.
Then, recording their responses and posting them online for all to see.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Ending on a Happy Note.
WE HAVE our first feathered tenant. A Downy Woodpecker has taken possession of one of our early spring birdhouses; curiously, the one designed, built and placed for, of all things, a Downy Woodpecker! How did it know? Will wonders ever cease!?
So, life goes on. And might even keep going on…
It’s up to me. And it’s up to you…
* I didn’t post the video. The sound was unexpectedly hot and harsh; the performance, too meandering; and, overall, the entire production fell far short of expectations. So it goes.