It is another frost-bitten week here at the Hazelwood Estate.  A fresh coating of snow has fallen – covering any tracks which would-be evidence of persons traversing the span betwixt this magnificent old manse and its great iron gates. Concurrently, the comings-and-goings of travelers and other guests have long-subsided so that those occasions have been reduced to the status of dreams.  They occupy the same place in my mind with mid-night hauntings or slumbering delusions of such, whichever may be the case.  And still here I am, no-less a member of the human race and therefore connected to that which I cannot see.  Yet, it is this dichotomy of connectedness and autonomy which I must keep in balance so that I may continue to labor in faith that my highest purpose is being served.

It is my intention to emerge from this sustained period of isolation and introspection with a catalogue of music which has at long-last been pressed into product.  At length, this music has been closed-up in the heat of my head so that it is like a delicacy in danger of sitting in the oven too long.  In fact, I have been guilty of burning up my own sustenance on more occasions than I would like to admit.  These words and melodies are prone to run their course in my mind – tiring themselves out and taking an early-retirement.  But this has, on the up-side, contributed to my proliferation as a songwriter.  With the willingness to dispose of those creations which are no longer serving me, a vacuum is created into which something more useful might flow – greater works are rendered!  This has also been a fine test as to the timelessness of each song.  It has been nearly two years since I penned The Grey House, and having plunged into its depths – breaking it apart piece-by-piece, I still feel that I might never solve its riddle.  It fascinates me to-no-end. 

And so it is in blind faith that I occupy these corridors, performing songs into a recording mechanism, and seemingly to no-one.  Assuredly, the elusive entity of time has marked these days as Sanctified and the full magnitude of their splendor will be apparent long after they have drifted off into the ether – I having documented them in song.

Until our next encounter,
Mister Hazelwood