Where has the time gone? It seems to me that it was only yesterday when the wild call of summer came knocking on the door, now it is passing us like a sprinting pony and all I can do is try to hold on without quivering or crying at the thought of this warm hug of a season leaving me. I had plans, I had dreams, I had a lot to say in the months of June, July and August but mostly, I simply moved through the days and now I am here, sitting beside the climbing sweet peas, knowing one day they will be no more, but doing what I can to remember how good it is when they are here. I guess this is what happens when you make an album or take a dream from your head and try to make it into something you can hold. You spend so much time sitting on the stoop thinking about it, wondering if it is good, if it is worthy, if it is the best you can do. Art is a strange thing and nothing swallows time quite like over-thinking.
