Friday, January 18, 2019

The Comfort of Ritual

I’ve been reading, little sweetheart, and looking at the illustrations of an artist and author who lost his wife to cancer just a little over a year ago. He has two little girls to raise in her absence and while their grief is palpable and ever-present, there is also a kind of faith and eternal love equally forefront in all his work, as he tells his story day to day.

One recent post that caught my eye was how he had come to enjoy cooking and how it provided a great feeling of comfort. His experience is a bit different than ours - his wife was the cook for many years and it’s only now that he’s taken up the mantel - but the feeling of comfort is the same.

One of my favorite things to do ever was to cook for you. One time when a friend was visiting you here and the two of you were going to go out for a drink for a couple of hours to catch up before returning home, I was just taking dessert out of the oven and putting dinner in. She just looked at you and said “You get to come home to this? You’re so lucky!”.

I think she was wrong, though - I’m the lucky one, little sweetheart. And cooking now, be it for Sylvia or for your parents when I visit them or even just most nights when I’m here on my own, reminds me so much of you, and cooking for you and sitting down with you and having dinner together.

So many of our rituals remain and they comfort me, little sweetheart, in knowing that you are nearer than I can imagine. With all my love forever. 

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Angel Frequency (video)

We put together and released a video for "Angel Frequency" today, little sweetheart.

As we hear your voice rise and shimmer amongst the soundscape of low backing vocals, overtones of guitar and synth over atmospheric loops, I hope the visuals take us on the kind of journey I imagine - the one that brings me home to you in my dreams.

With all my love forever.


Monday, January 7, 2019

Serious Moonlight Sonatas

For the last several months, little sweetheart, one of our newest champions has been WFMU’s Carol Crow, who has featured us some her Sunday morning show “Serious Moonlight Sonatas” several times, including just a week or two ago when she premiered our song “Angel Frequency” from the new album Til Morning Is Nigh on the air. Today, she wrote a really lovely review of the album. It’s below.

And, as ever, all for you, little sweetheart - the guiding light and great blessing of my life. With all my love forever.

TIL MORNING IS NIGH - BIPOLAR EXPLORER: "Ethereal music that sends the listener up towards the heavens to sit aloft on the clouds above.  A melodic conversation of sound is taking place with gleaming angels shining in the bright blue sky, dulcet voices taking form and weaving their golden threads in and out of the musical expanse, as if taking their cue from the sun's warmth as it beams forth.  A cloud coolly passes overhead for a moment and upon its passage, we feel the heat once again and the sun's rays shine even brighter than before.  A truly ascendant album to be listened to any time of year." -Carol Crow, WFMU

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

2019

2019 has begun, little sweetheart, and I hope to set out on a better year than the one just concluded.

In 28 months we’ve released four length albums, including a double-album. I’ve an eye toward the next one, our 9th, already but I so very much want this to be the year that we publish the first book of memoirs. I mean for the writing of that to be my top goal and priority this year.

I’m still recovering from getting hit by the car eight months ago. I’m still in physical therapy. It’s still hard. But I’ll keep doing the work and hopefully get back to as close I can to before it all happened and move forward with grace and prayerfulness and our plans.

With all my love forever.




Monday, December 31, 2018

Last Day of the Year

Little sweetheart, it’s the very last day of 2018. It’s New Year’s Eve.

I think I’ve never had much use for the holiday. Maybe when I was a little boy, when the excitement of staying up until midnight - and fading, falling asleep and being carried off to bed well before - was a thing. I don’t think you and I ever had an New Year’s Eve together.

What I do remember was talking to you on New Year’s Eve. Talking to you on the phone - me here in NYC, you in SF - and making plans for the New Year. In 2008 it was about me coming there, possibly forever. In 2010, it was you telling me you were at a party with Danya but that you’d just booked a flight here - like excused yourself into the bedroom, gotten on your Air Book and bought a ticket. That you’d be here next week.

It still feels so close to me, my little sweetheart, that feeling that you’re only a plane ride away. Maybe you’re even closer than that, now. Maybe you’re far closer than I can imagine and all I have to is to listen quietly for your presence. All I have to do is as you would have me and sometime, sometime very soon, we’ll be together again and forever.

As this year draws to a close little sweetheart, this year when I got hit by a car and actually died for ten minutes before coming back to life, let it be a thing that I hold dear - you. To remember and honor and be like you. To do our work, speak our truth, say our prayer and finally, when called, fly to you.

With all my love on this last day, which is also the first, the first of the next. And you. You. Forever.

Friday, December 28, 2018

Around Me, Home

I flew home to NYC on the overnight flight from SMF last night, little sweetheart, and arrived early this morning. It’s a cold, grey, rainy day here and I spent nearly all of it asleep after taking the AirTrain and “E” train home, climbing the stairs and dropping my luggage in the kitchen.

When I awoke, it was twilight, the day vanished behind me but my heart full and comforted with your things and hundreds of pictures all around me. I somehow get used to it when immersed, surrounded by what Sylvia calls “the heavy walls” of this place. But after being away for nearly a month it both strikes and comforts me to be home with your presence both spectral and photographic all around me.

How grateful I am for you. How grateful I am to you. How very much and deeply I love you. Forever, little sweetheart. Forever.

Tuesday, December 25, 2018

Writing Your Christmas Note

While everyone is opening presents, little sweetheart, I’m taking this time to write you a Christmas note and slip it into your stocking. There’s quite a few in there, I do this every year. Our stockings hang together, side by side, on the mantel. And your mom has added a stocking this year for Sylvia, too.

In the note I tell you lots of things you already know - how much I love and miss you, all that’s happened this year (which I know you know because your presence is always near and knowing, watching, guiding me).

I find myself thinking now and always of our Christmas here together eight years ago. How we sat together on the sofa and I wept with joy and gratitude to be at your side.

Happy Christmas, little sweetheart. Love you forever.