Tom Lewis’ Diary

laying in the bed last evening i see two observers. one stands in shadow and for whatever reason i cannot look directly at him. the other stands before me outside in an old glossy photograph that the colors have faded into warmer tones - next to a bike just standing hands to his side looking at me. there is no expectation but hope. not excited ambitious aspirant hope but fear hope. the other stands in his shadow looking as the little boy before me pleads his expression to “measure up” - it is in his face nearly blank - no movement no voice. to be the vision he has of what he’ll grow up to be, what the observer in the shadow has put on his small shoulders and left him understanding that anything different will not be enough. at stake is the little boy’s confidence, his understanding of what he can do, what he loves, his feeling of who he is and what he is worth. he is already sad from what i can see, and if i stretch my own memory i can’t remember when he wasn’t sad. i see him now only in faded color photographs sitting on the floor on christmas morning holding a giant orange dog. i remember him briefly seeing through his eyes looking down on the snake that lay dead but still moving before him, the only friend in the world.

today began a new kenosha kid recording. this time a new score for the buster keaton classic steamboat bill, jr. at last this team worked together, i was days from moving out of the house, and studio, where for over a decade i had done my work. today we began at john keane’s place, players scattered around in every space and for the first time in my career as a “whatever i am”, we are cutting to picture.

lately, either via associative points of reference or just noticing a brain flow that proceeds in the background, pieces of pasts come into view, and some accounting for the passage of time is available.  in some respects it is just the remembering of someone not thought of for decades, and a placement on a timeline.  then there are some associations, smells, the temperature on a certain day, the directions from point a to point b - something which amounts to “being there” - that something that gives certain events a “seems like yesterday” kind of feel.  good riddances, regrets of sorts, wishes for do-overs, bridges well crossed.

the instrument to my left, an old crusty Silvertone hollow body refuses to resemble being in tune for the better part of a half hour though it is green lights all the way up.  then, it comes into tune.  it feels alien to me for the moment but it is in tune.

The doorbell rang and I answered.

One of the women turned to the other and said “S?”. “Yes, S”. Big smiles. “May we speak to S?” “She’s getting ready for work.” “Well we’re from Grace Baptist Church. Is there a time that we could come back to speak with her?” At this point it is worth nothing that I am not offended that apparently they don’t wish to speak to me. “I think that she would not be interested in talking to you, but would thank you anyway”. Stunned…attempts to peek through door…momentarily speechless. “Well…OK….thank you.” “Thank you”.

Most of these obvious solicitations I have not bothered to answer. While I am certainly “that rude man on the corner” today, it is not the first time. One phone converstion - “Would you like some information on our church?”.  “Definitely not but thanks for considering us.” Terribly rude.

07.31am

i’ve had my first master refused…this after years and years…i have no idea how many masters. admittedly i’ve had my stink with my own share of mastering engineers which is what drove me to begin doing my own.

some projects present themselves as a pain in the ass before they begin and for the most part, that intuitive data should be examined - the voice that says “run away as fast as you can”. in recent months, and in two businesses, this has been the case. one lost, one won. the latter was worth approximately 48x the former so as a statistic, we’ll take the latter.

from this conversation yesterday though it has become apparent to me that I am accustomed to taking on responsibility for someone elses turd, that is - “if they don’t like it, it’s my fault”. the law of averages says that i’m way ahead of the game. so…trying to let that one go.