I saw Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers tonight with Jaymie at the Knitting Factory. I recalled that it had been more than two years since I went to a proper concert - proper meaning that I wasn't friends with someone in the band (and by friends with, I might mean, madly in love with and had a week-long unspoken romantic affair with last fall. What?). I'm not sure why I don't go to more shows, because they are just so healing.

I love Stephen Kellogg because his lyrics just say it all, without being convoluted and without being contrived. His voice is clear, crisp, and curls in just the right places. And that stage presence is undeniable. In between breaths his tongue will sneak out between his lips in subconscious concentration. It's comparable to the way Taylor Hanson's left leg shakes uncontrollably when he plays the piano. You know they are feeling that music right down to their fingers and toes. Deeply buried in their hearts.

I've been working on that song lately - the one that I started over the summer. I wouldn't say it's an angry song - it's melancholy enough; with Hanson as my biggest influence, that's to be expected. I've only played it for one person - it's really not complete at all, so even that was a little unnerving - but when I work on at the Guitar Center, anyone who walks by can hear me. And I feel so naked... moreso than when I play songs that aren't mine.

To imagine playing a whole set of naked songs is altogether frightening but thrilling at the same time. I really wish I had paid more attention those years I was learning piano. Everything that I do now is based on intuition and not technique, which I feel can only take me so far.

I am so content right now, feeling like my heart could just burst, it's so full and floating.