Volume IV Notes

Salt

This could be heard as a resignation, but it’s not, even though I claim that “faded” is my
favorite color. But really, it’s just a singular letter written on a particular day in a specific
mood to a certain person. Not a white flag, just a reminder that sometimes it hurts and
we are lucky to have each other. Written with Bill Janovitz, my good friend and one of
my very favorite musicians.
 

Worry Doll

This is the oldest song in the series, written to my daughters. The chorus is a
homemade lullaby I sang to the littler one (Harriet) when she was a baby. A
predictably maternal shortlist of broad suggestions: don’t be afraid to be strong,
try to live outside of clock and calendar (as least as much as a relatively sane life allows), choose
your battles, get lost sometimes. Written with Dean, whose parental advice is a lot more
practical.
 

Cape Ann

More salt, more sand, more sea. Enough already, right? I clearly have a problem or two.
If the oceans were aware of me, I would definitely have received a no contact order by
now. Like the one I got from the moon a few years back. Written with Michael Hearst,
shanty man.
 

Flying at Night

Flying over cities at night never fails to break my heart. It is deeply moving to see all of our lights  and
patterns and plans from above, and all the dark spaces between. In love with everyone and everything up
there, which is super dorky and sentimental, and in conflict with much of the reality on the ground. Written
with Christopher Ewen of the fabulous Future Bible Heroes.