Excuse My Grammar While My Thoughts Meander

There's no better time to clear the fear than 5am. The careful hours when the moon chooses a new perfume, knowing that the closest star is coming over soon.

I wish I could post the huge canvas of the moon and sun I see in my head... maybe one day when I learn to paint I can vivify this wordy space.

My body's been awake way too long for my mind to judge any melodies being broadcast through my system. It's a beautiful feeling to be so unpredictably close to shut-eye, when words and music just pour out onto paper and all I do is watch it happen. "This is the best music I've ever written" - only a good morning's sleep will tell if these drowsy claims are at all accurate. Thankfully my molecular microphones are always on Record, to capture the sensory details that my sleepiness will surely cause my eyes and ears to miss, and to play them back in dreams or hazy memories in days to come. The liberating unselfcounsciousness of these super late/early hours mixed with the spark-starting impulses of music I hadn't experienced before, inspires me to be highly creative, or simply unfiltered, or at the very least incapable of knowing the difference. It's incredible, the chemistry sets at our constant disposal. Adding a few hours past bedtime to this meal and these specific thoughts throughout the day just to see what sort of new ideas arise in the middle of the night... What if I hadn't been listening to Julian Casablancas' new album for the first time, or if I started writing three hours earlier, how different would the pages of my journals look tonight? Would they even exist at all?

Tonight was workshop session number 2 at the home school atop Laurel Canyon. Have I mentioned how lucky I am to be surrounded by such talented and wildly awesome human beings... Shame on me for ever fooling myself into believing for a second that inspiring individuals existed in certain places and not others. Or that communities had to already be in existence for me to find them. This remarkable three-year adventure in California started out as a two-week visit that just never ended, and I've been something way beyond fortunate to find myself alongside the founding members of so many amazing little communities along the way. Some of them appeared the way shooting stars, names of people that inexplicably slip your mind when you need them, and missing keys do - the second you stop trying so hard to search, they show up. I never planned on moving to California, I never planned on playing for 2 years in a rock band, or even imagined I'd be in this workshop. Thankfully my parents taught me to dream huge as soon as I woke up in this world / And my brother and sister have always encouraged flying on the winds less traveled by / And all my friends and co-travelers through twentythree years remind me to stay focused on the core of what I truly want, and that all the steps along the way are gonna move, some without permission, always happening FOR us not TO us. Thankfully I've been too mesmerized by the meandering streams to turn back or attempt to force them to flow elsewhere. These are the paths that have always led to the brilliant chapters in my story. I trust them wholeheartedly. I really do.

Sounds like I have a lot of thanking to do.

Goodnight Moon...you smell nice.

RyanzzZZzzzz