Sometimes both humans and inanimate objects need to put themselves out to pasture in the peculiar context of the countryside. I'm settling in after a day at Outlier Inn, a recording studio and all around many things place in the Catskills of New York. I'm taking it as an opportunity to regroup my brain and write new songs inspired by greek goddess archetypes but also taking long walk-hikes with the dog and seeing where my brain wanders with all its five senses in tow. I'm finding mattress springs in charred bonfire pits in abandoned yards that look like Calder creations and stuffing my pockets with oxidized copper colored moss the texture of a dried out kitchen sponge. It's bringing me giddy delight. Something about the countryside and how things find themselves here always brings on feelings of satisfaction for me. I think it has something to do with how things become irrelevant and then in that new non-role make me think new thoughts about them and the world. Hi-dive boards for pools sit in grassy meadows. A TV lays in a ditch. A landline reverberates across a field from a house. Ferns are unraveling in different stages of growth. Boleros are being played over lunch.