Today I fly to Minneapolis to start work on the record again.
We’re going to be done before the end of the year.
I’ve been working on this record for nearly four years–two years writing it, eighteen months recording it (whenever Dan had time to spare, flying to MN and doing a few days, a week or two, whatever)–and the prospect of completion is exhilarating. Letting go of the process–being done–on the other hand, is pretty scary.
I remember reading that Marianne Moore had revised a poem forty years after its original publication. You’re never done; at some point, you choose to let go.
My excitement was unusually literal in my dreams last night. I had to wake up at 5 am to get ready to fly–I kept dreaming I was waking up at 4 am, too early, going to some weird dream-world hotel lobby affixed to my apartment and bumping into old friends and movie stars. When the alarm rang and I woke up for real, I was well-practiced for it.