There are a few things that were just sheer, unadulterated joy, like the birth of my children.
As a child I used to read Gone with the Wind over and over again. I wanted to be Scarlett O’Hara. I never wanted to believe that it was possible that there could be infidelity. I never wanted to be believe that it was even possible for a man to look another way, even for a moment. My bubble of monogamy was pierced in a harsh way.
I sought some kind of freedom in music, in the promise of transcendence and the idea that the purity and the innocence of a mythical god could somehow deliver me from darkness.
I grew up not understanding what was true and what was not true. It gave me a sense of unreality.
There ain’t no freedom when you’ve got a worrying mind.
Music gave me the energy to revise, revive myself; renew, rebirth myself. It was a palliative, a relief.
The other day I came across a recording I made of a night at my apartment when I was living with Kris Kristofferson. Bob Dylan had been around earlier and we were all passing around the guitar. Whenever it came to my turn I would run into the kitchen and say I’d left the coffee on the stove or something. Shyness. Scared to perform.
You can repeat the mistakes of your parents’ marriage or you can go out of your way not to repeat them.
I always live in some kind of anticipation of something good happening.
One of the things about creativity is you can be in denial about these things. When I found out I had cancer, there were four hours in which I was pounding my head on the marble kitchen top saying, “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it.” But then I felt as if this little army in uniform was flooding me. They had come to help me fight it. I felt really strong about it after that. It was one of the strongest periods of my life.
I think I had the best of James [Taylor]. I mean, I was so in love with him. Not with blinders on – I was in love with him because he is a remarkable man, and he gave me a tremendous amount.
Seeing things that are bothering you written down takes away their power. It gives you a perspective. Helps you contain them.
From the first time I saw a picture of him, James Taylor was it — the ultimate Orpheus of all my fantasies.
There was a lot of charm in just living in a big family compound of a house. My two uncles, who were into jazz, lived in the basement, and one of them, Uncle Peter, taught me my first songs on the ukulele.
I think when you get married, it’s not a totally free ride – it’s not without its unglamorous periods and its fights and its angry noons and silent dawns or vice-versa.
[Ben Taylor] He is an interesting combination of the two of us. His voice box is more like mine but the way his tongue sits in his mouth, and the way he pronounces words, is just like James Taylor.
Music brought me closer to the idea of God.
You usually can’t tell what’s inspiring until you look back on it.
Actually, I think the more Ben [Taylor] sings, the less like James he sounds.
Fear came in so much in my life that it did everything but completely stop me.
I’ve sworn never to read any reviews ever again except those that are pointed out to me as nice ones. I would say that most of us who are considered in the artist realm just take it so terribly, and, you know, it can kill ya!
Next Page »
