The Daily Pitcher: Building

The Daily Pitcher: Shaking Through

The Weekly Rocker: Why Only Six?

Why Only Six? - Scott Bishop

The Daily Pitcher: Tom's Diner

The Daily Pitcher: Shadows and Tall Trees

The Daily Pitcher: I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight

The Weekly Rocker: Home Is You

Home Is You .mp3 - Scott Bishop

This morning's tune is what I like to think of as a wordless Valentine. Happy V-Day, y'all.

The Daily Pitcher: Darkness on the Edge of Town

The Daily Pitcher: There's a Ghost in My House

The Daily Pitcher: Spider and I

The Daily Pitcher: Slim Slow Slider

The Daily Pitcher: Mineral

This is actually one of the signs informing you you're in the Longwood Medical Area, shot from below about two feet in front, at about 2PM today.

The Weekly Rocker: Sweetness

Sweetness.mp3 - Scott Bishop

The Daily (belated) Pitcher: What Is the Light?

The Daily Pitcher: In the Street

The Daily Pitcher: Peep-hole

The Daily Pitcher: Only Shallow

The Daily Bitcher: Martin, Doom! It's Seven O'Clock

Taking my cue from two men who are the subject of an appropriation/plagairism article by artist Mark Vallen--Shepherd Fairey (primarily) and Jim Krantz--I'm appropriating this image from TV without crediting my source. Oh, screw it, I can't do it--it's from "One Way out" on Discovery. All I know is, I don't want to be trapped on that hunk o' machinery. Water wheel of doom, it is.

This is what happens when you promise to take and post a picture a day and you realize just before you go to bed that you haven't done it yet. I'll do better tomorrow.

The Weekly Rocker: Fresh Water

FreshWater.mp3 - Scott Bishop
I sort of fancied this as Bob Pollard meets the Byrds, but probably just because the line "I drank it all before I cracked the bell" sounds like a Bob Pollard kinda thing to sing.

FreshWater.mp3 - Scott Bishop
Fresh water for the tea, my love
Fresh fire for the bed, I just wanna hold you
It's a need I have tonight
I never tell you, but I have it most nights

Bring it from the spring, my love
There's no water in the well
I drank it all before I cracked the bell

Fresh water for the bath, my love
Bless the tap and give us this hour of purity
There are no sins to cleanse
And the lens I look at life through has turned cloudy

The flat erasures of empty days
Interrupt the spell
That says the tapestry is not unweaving
And when all the doors are closed
And all the locks are bolted
I know there are some rooms that are worth leaving

And if the pipes should freeze
We'll huddle in the cold or just lay dreaming
For fresh water for the tea, my love
And the warmth we share, wholly real, not seeming