Everyone who believes in the devil

is the devil. Why? Because the universe is composed of stories, not atoms. Because the universe is made of music, not matter.

Because there is a song in here, always.

For Broken Things, Raise Your Hand

With more free time on my hands, I've been writing new songs, but maybe not at the rate I once did when my hands were full.

The paradox is there -- when your time is precious, you use it well. When it's abundant, you laze on the beach. Last week I was so sick, with 6 days of fever -- I had hoped to write my very own "Cowgirl in the Sand." An unconscious masterwork brought on by a feverish, delusional state. This didn't happen, but when I got better, I did formulate two songs.

One is inspired by Leonard Cohen, the master of imperfection. When he sings that he couldn't help his greatness, that "he was born with a golden voice," it makes most people smile or laugh. Because it is true: his cracked, nearly tuneless voice is a gift. He just had the courage to recognize it and share it with the rest of us. And like all great art, his work is not everyone's cup of tea. Wasn't even mine till a few weeks ago.

I love finding new icons to add to my worship pile. Welcome aboard dear Mr. Cohen, I am a believer.

I call this new song "Don't Retouch Me" and it's for you, Leonard Cohen. Maybe I'll mail it to you one day. Gotta find a stamp.

E