Finally slept for the first time since Sunday .... Wow I feel better. Went for a lovely long walk this morning in the heat while listening to the Beatles tunes that I'll be covering this Friday at Hugh's Room for the big Twist and Shout show. I'll have Joel and Charles with me ... please come out - it's going to be a blast! The line up is amazing.

So, I've been feeling a little (maybe a lot) lacking in the inspiration department lately. Not for lack of material, sadly, but more for that spark. That "Holy Shit it Feels SO Right!" moment that drives us to plow through painful rejections, endless doubt, mind-numbing grant applications and well-intentioned friends and family asking questions like "when are you finally going to get a proper job and start contributing to your CPP fund?". It's the memory of that experience when everything flows and your brain stops being in control and either the performance or the song that you are writing pours through you without a hint of effort. Oh my, it's quite the drug. It doesn't always happen, and I've always found it equally inspiring to witness it in someone else. Then there is that whole other level of magic professionalism where you can convince people that you are in that space when you are actually on auto-pilot because you have developed that muscle so diligently that even on your off days - your technique carries you though ... but that  is another subject for another day.  What I want to speak to today is the intense gratitude that I feel to have been in the room the other night when Mary Margaret O'Hara performed at the Lula Lounge. That woman is electrifying. It is nothing short of magic to witness her perform. I love her spontaneity, her humor, her expressiveness and the intense vulnerability she reveals whilst simultaneously charming the pants off of every one with her cheeky grin. I am a giant sucker for this incredible performer and the other night - she gave more than a stellar show - she gave me glimpse of the SPARK. I saw it in her and I remembered suddenly that feeling. I took that memory into the studio this morning when I went in do a marathon demo recording project for the upcoming album - it reconnected me to something so vital that helped carry me through today and hopefully translated in some way in the tracks I laid down. Thanks to my publicist Richard Flohil for suggesting that we go out that night. Ahh, I'm rambling. It's the middle of the night. My sleep is becoming more and more sporadic. Is that really the right spelling? On a completely separate note, and I don't know, I mean I'm crap at knowing about blogging standards and what is appropriate and what isn't, but part of the reason I can't sleep is because someone super close to me arrived at my home tonight with his face all cut up and bruised. He was mugged 2 days ago in his parking garage after getting home from work. He is 63 years old, working class, the most generous man I've ever met and 2 complete @&*!s decided to smash his face into the door of his car and rough him up just for a bit of cash. Okay, I know, it happens - he's okay and maybe I shouldn't be so freaked (although I'll feel better once I get him to a walk in clinic) ... but I hate more than anything in the whole world feeling like I can't protect the people that I love. It has got to be the most horrid sensation I can imagine. It evokes in me a strange parallel rage and fear that I cannot seem to shake. Okay, so if you wanted a random snippet of "a day in the life" - there it is. Seven hours in the studio, building a momentum, working through the kinks, walking away bleary eyed, totally wired and strangely ecstatic, finish off the evening with a friend over a beer, get home, get the call, open the door and feel everything slide. Now bleary-eyed, totally wired and wondering how I can possibly fix this even though it's not mine.

The yoga had to go on hold for a few days while I traveled to Quebec to be with a dear friend who is very ill. I went for many long walks. We talked about the end of life. All of the material I am working on is about death in some way. I am so tired of writing about, thinking about and living all these different endings. I have to do it. It's the only way to be complete, but it is hard not to get caught in my head and fantasize about beginnings - new projects, new energy and new adventures. I'm just not there yet and I know if I rush or skip over this part of the process I won't be able to truly sink into the newness when it comes.  I challenge myself to stay where I am and be present to all this. 

Last night I didn't sleep at all. Not one wink. I made myself go to yoga anyway (and walk the 11km there and back) and you know what ...?..... I think I found a great new drug! No sleep, then 2 hours of exercise - I feel high as a kite! And I probably burned a whack of calories meaning later when I crash and want nothing more than to veg and watch countless episodes of Maud on the couch - I'm going to do it whilst eating potato chips! Somewhere in that vain I thought I would share with you some wonderful yoga poses I learned about through Timothy McSweeney's website: