I am snowed in right now, wishing this teensy weensy Manhattan apartment was instead a magical cottage in the middle of some undiscovered mountain range.  I’d be boiling my old shoes and eating their leather, with 10 feet of snow outside my door, writing the darkest, evilest music ever written by a wood nymph.  I’d probably be screaming if I were in a place where nobody could hear me, but this is New York City.  I have to adjust to a different way of dealing with the winter of our souls.

My new record is going to be finished soon, and I hope it goes somewhere nice on its own merit.  I like it.  I think I’m gonna call it “Soul Retrieval”, which is the shamanic process by which you recover the parts of your soul that run away when you have been traumatized by something.  I think we can all relate.

The other day I nearly threw a chair at a strange houseguest who said he was the most unfortunate of all the miserable sufferers in the world.  For some reason, it made me want to smack him upside the head.  The same day I gave my only pair of snowboots to a perfect stranger.  It’s not like I lack compassion.  It’s just that we have to get beyond self-pity. 

I have a new friend who is a superhero.  She enjoys everything.  She makes me want to write dance music and have a cheerful life.  What a change that could be.

I’m getting married.  My name is changing to Larkin Lee.

Grimm was fierce and seriously, maybe a little too dark for me.