gilby turns 50!

a kid from daniels youth home gave him a battered old guitar, with "daniel emmanuel" fingerpainted onto it. yesterday in this sun-soaked hallway, he played us these songs, about his father, about revolution, about letting go. & it was really nice. & my sentimental side gets the best of me. if i got sidetracked in life for a little while, but ended up hearing these things one winter afternoon, you know, im okay with it.

i get this way sometimes.



the night ended up at sole repair, behind quinns. the presentations during the restoring process of my program really got to me. i drank a shift of work away. im restoring plans. of a collective, of artists, writers, musicians. i went to scope out some gallery space. envision. its all coming together, oddly enough. but besides all of that, i met up with toby & nick at redwood. then we headed over to pike for awhile, & it was one of those nights. toby is moving down to olympia in march...but im not. im putting it off until october, until ireland. its weird to think in the past tense when youre in a moment - but i already saw this moment as a memory, something wed look back on when we were down in the state capitol, finishing up school in the forest, being weirded out by pacific northwest methheads. a dark lit bar, the stella artois, the dj, the well-clad people, gilbys hat. this-seattle-is just a phase.