What if you suddenly found out that all the people you knew when you were seventeen missed you and wanted to hear you play your music?
What if suddenly you found that it was you who missed them and wanted to share in some small way the sweet glories of those days?
You couldn’t really call them all, or email them – well, perhaps if you hadn’t been a narcissistic teenager and were beautifully versed in the art of social networking and regular communications you could, but that would require a higher order of functioning than has ever been available to the likes of me.
Instead, my friend and I decided to make an archival recording of eight of the songs we used to sing in the living room of our home, a place we called Stumpwater. Then we decided to turn it into a CD, knowing full well that such was not the original intent.
Intentions be damned we did what it took to produce a CD. This is for Stumpwater and whoever needs to find a place in their heart that remains open to possibility.