Kat Jones And The Wild Goose

This blog was from February 20 of this year.  I think I felt tentative in being so vulnerable and so I never posted it… but as it makes more and more sense every day, I thought it a good idea to let you see my mindset earlier this year.  As I move on towards what’s coming next.  I never quite finished it obviously.  But I have decided that I like it best this way.

We will see how brief this actually ends up being as it’s been a week of uncertainties.  I move forward without choice this month towards things I am unsure about.  With hope for the future and peace leading me through the doors I find myself stepping outside and asking the Wild Goose what is next.  He perches at my landing, peering through the doors at me, and occasionally I peer through my doors at him.  Eyes locked and fixed I wonder what’s coming next but I am afraid to step out and ask so we find ourselves mutual observers.  I think that if i step out onto the landing to greet him (or her, I can not tell the sex) I will find him to be ceaselessly kind, and perhaps even gentle with me.  But I fear the huge wingspan and bold temper, or worse, that I may startle him and he fly away and so I continue to stare, marvel, admire, and mostly likely unnecessarily, fear.

In the last three weeks I have officially ended a working relationship that I rejoiced working in for the last 10 years.  I will miss the hard work both for and with them, the kind things they did for me, and the encouragement.  But in the end, I really began to feel it best to venture out on my own, at least for now, artistically and see what happens.  I am not skilled at mourning artistic loss, and I am so anxious to put out more art in a hard copy that it was perhaps a more emotional break than it needed to be.  In the end I will have to mark the occasion somehow.  But I am yet unsure of how to do that.

I will also be moving out of my home at the end of the month into, what is looking to be a temporary living situation.  Three months or so, no longer, I am waiting to see how the story plays out.

It is curious to think that as I drove across the country I knew that I was changing.  I knew as it was happening that I was being restored.  I felt old cobwebby parts of my mind being dusted off.  My analytical wheels began to move again and shortly after my arrival even my flood damaged multi-track recorder began working.  Like a sign that I was going in the right direction, to reveal old songs that I have been trying to piece together for the last 2 years and hope and hope and hope will be on the new album.  And hopefully there will be a new album.

I find myself researching the way that art is bought and sold and marveling over artistic crimes created in the last century against both the artist, the collector, and the consumer.  I have been reading about people who almost changed the world, and have been marveling over the miracles of the last 200 years, to bring us to a near stagnation in our technology.  We invent smaller and smaller computers, as perhaps people have had to invent smaller and smaller wheels, but where is the desire to explore, discover, and delight the senses in the art of the new?

And all these things lead me back to what?  Change.  Both intangible yet apparent and apparently tangible.  It is here.  And I am in it.  And I do not understand it.

I know that this post in meandering, even more than most, and I struggle to find what is true even in my own life as I struggle to find what is the point of this post.  Over and over and over again people around me are asking me for the big reveal.  Something is changing, my life in Nashville is becoming more and more uprooted.  I see it and come with the same questions you have.

I would say that I fear my life becoming stagnant in the next few months.  For this is certainly true.  But up on looking at and surveying the land I find tours, moving again in June, recording, and more and more and more questions…

The Lamp Is Growing Dim But The Future Is Clear As Day

I always feel like the sun burns hotter in the suburbs.  Something about the shade of asphalt in the streets and the uniform color and shape of the houses that line the blocks for miles makes me feel like my eyes are failing me.  The particular suburb where I am staying this week has beautiful rolling hills, deadly quiet streets, and a view of grain silos from the hillside as though they were skyscrapers touching the clouds on the horizon.

I have moved out of my home and am living a sort of vagrant lifestyle at present.  With a huge step coming up in the future it may be a while before I see another grain silo.  I have picked up a new booking agent, am going into the studio next month, and more that I do not yet have the freedom to talk about that… but all those changes I sensed were in the future are here.  They are present.  I know what many of them are and I am no longer guessing at what they may be any longer.

I found myself catching up with punk rock duo Destroy Nate Allen last week.  Nate and Tessa Allen were performing at a music festival and asked me to guitar tech for them.  I stood on the outside of a circle of 5,000 people, trying to rush the gear that they needed backward and forward through the mass that surrounded them, “Excuse me.  I have a delivery for Nate,”  “Excuse me, I need to get to the front, ”  “Nate needs this guys.  Sorry.”  I would pass off the various and sundry items that the band required, I packed up their gear after the show, and then shortly afterward headed back into Nashville.  But not without having the vision for the next season of my life utterly shaken by several of the friends that I ran into at the festival.

I know that I have been quiet artistically for the last few months.  To be honest I was trying to figure out what in the crap was going on for me.  I think I know… and in the next few weeks you will have a better vision of that as I understand more clearly what is going on.

Until then you can just call me a big tease.

Kat