Brief Update!

The last couple of entries have been super-long, in part to make up for me having neglected the diary quite a bit lately. So this one will be short.

I spent Monday evening in producer Mike Nunan's basement studio, finalizing Carpenter's Gothic, which will be released in early fall, and giving Mighty Grace a first listen. I'm really pleased. Carpenter's Gothic is honest, tough and a little bit mean, quite a departure from Evergreen but not out of step, in my opinion. Mike calls it ballsy. Mighty Grace, on the other hand, is the widest musical range I've covered, yet it also seems to stay within theme really well. And because this is the first project where Mike has been involved from day one, the sound is truly extraordinary. I feel that I'm finally getting this live CD thing right, and working with Mike the producer and Scott the drummer has made it possible.

In other news, I put a good 12 hours work into my deck and shed over the weekend. I'm going to add digital photos at some point soon; people must be thinking I'm constructing the Taj Mahal. But the truth is, the more you get into the little details, the longer stuff takes. So the revamping I've done this spring to get the shed built and the benches re-configured and the front of the deck finished and the fence re-boarded and my picnic table turned into wainscotting and then re-built has all taken almost as much time as building the deck did in the first place.

I'd say something philosophical about that, but can't think of a phrase right now. The best addition I made this weekend was a 14-inch by 2-inch by 8 foot barnboard plank, which is now sitting across two of my grandfather's old nail kegs and supporting a bunch of potted plants at the edge of the deck. My theme of gradual and beautiful organic decay has crept out of my artwork and into my yard.

24-Hour Vacation: Part One

Okay, so after 7 1/2 years in Toronto I finally went totally insane and just had to get out. Usually, despite my rural roots and inherent passion for nature, I handle the Big Smoke just fine, and have never felt desperate to leave. That might be partly because I'm often on the road anyway, but whatever it is, I usually don't go nuts here.

Last Saturday morning, though, I was putting still more finishing touches on my deck, re-configuring the benches so I could see my 15 x 32 foot yard, and I just about lost it. It was nine million degrees, and I was overtired, and overworked, and undercaffinated, and by 2 PM I was a sweaty lunatic.Thank God, an escape route was open! I packed all my tools and my beater guitar into my trusty 1992 Ford Escort hatchback (the car I call "The Best Small Truck in its Class") and hit the road.

One Tim Horton's coffee and 2 hours later, I was in Orillia, enjoying a backstage pass to Mariposa on a Saturday night.It might take me a couple of entries to describe the event properly, but for me the great thing was just feeling like I belonged there. My CD had come out to late to get into proper contention for the Festival this year. And although I had a great audience response at the Last Chance audition, I didn't get the gig that way either. That's okay by me- I had a great time auditioning and met some great people, and I never treat an audition as anything other than a chance to play my songs. But I was offered a VIP pass for my trouble, and am I ever glad I claimed it.

There I was, backstage, hobnobbing with all kinds of musicians whom I know and really respect like Dan Kershaw, ,Kristin Sweetland, Suzie Vinnick, Bob Snider, Jason Fowler, plus Mariposa members, all of whom warmly welcomed me there. Not only that, but numerous people who had voted at the Last Chance as audience members seemed surprised and disappointed that I wasn't playing, as they felt I had done a good job and had they had voted for me. This actually happened several times, independently.

I'm sharing it here because it was an un-looked-for bonus for me. It's so easy to get disappointed when you're putting yourself out there on stage all the time, and the results don't always show. Yet at times you make an impression without even knowing it, and when that comes back to you it's really rewarding.

Anyway, that was over and above quaffing brews to the tunes of Mary de Keyzer & Melody Ranch in the beer tent, hanging out at the Shannon Guitars tent with Larry Shannon, who hand-made my stage guitar, and listening to my Parry Sound soul-sister Katherine Wheatley on the big stage with Wendell Ferguson as the breeze rolled through the willows off Lake Couchiching.

And of course Bruce Cockburn was great as the headliner, but even better was trading tunes in the bar of the Sundial Hotel after the concert wrapped up. The night was long. The music was great. The beer was cool. The laughter was loud. The sky was clear. And the sun, when it rose, was resplendent. A reminder that after every night, a new day is born.