I like my wine in old mason jars and my whiskey poured over ice. Is it the same for you as it is for me, does the music hold the key to all your memories? I surround myself with green and growing things here in the desert to remind me of …
get the hell out of your own way {and write}
The muse has got an edge tonight. She doesn’t have a lot of extra time and she’s not in the mood for the usual bullshit. You feel her come in on a breath through the open window and settle deep in this space. Like she owns it. It’s strange how …
