Roofies.

I've been doing my best to get up to the roof of my building at night lately and meditate. You'd be amazed at how quiet West LA can feel after midnight; how clear the sky can be. I often run into one of my neighbors up there, a guy who comes up from time to time to have a cigarette. We barely know each other, but we're the only two people in the building who ever visit the roof, so I think there's an unspoken kinship there. Roofies.

The other night, he opened up his mouth to say hello, and (I think to his surprise as much as mine) ended up talking for a good half hour about some very personal things that were going on in his life, and some big decisions he had to make. I sat there, listened, offered a word or two when I could- but mostly just listened.

When he'd finished, he sighed heavily, put out his cigarette, and apologized for talking so much. "I feel lighter," he said. "I feel like I've really unburdened myself." And with that, he disappeared back down the stairs, behind the walls that build the illusion of separation between all of our lives. I wanted to say "don't apologize - I needed that." I wanted to thank him. But I'm not sure if I did. I think I may have just sat there silent, grateful, meditating on the many ways we're all connected but don't ever know it.

"People are always criticizing you and focusing on what you're trying to say on one little album, on one little song, but to me it's a lifetime's work. From the boyhood paintings and poetry to when I die - it's all part of one big production."

-John Lennon

Peace?

After the shootings last Saturday, I wrote a blog suggesting that rather than getting angry, taking sides, and placing blame, members of our generation should make an effort to step back and become vocal advocates for peace and understanding. I was pleased to hear the president echo similar sentiment in his speech in Tucson tonight.

People throw the word peace around in irresponsible ways. There are the people who preach that peace will come to the world when everyone believes in the exact same things (usually the things the ‘peacemaker’ happens to believe). There’s also this hippie notion of a peaceful world where no one ever disagrees, where people hold hands singing folk songs under an eternal rainbow. Blech.

I think a person can be an advocate of peace and still enjoy a good argument. One just has to accept the fact that we’re not all the same, and never will be. We each come from a different background, and because of this, we will always disagree about something. Everyone has been raised differently, hurt differently, gone through hardships differently, and come into our own in a slightly different way. We’ve all been shaped by similar forces, but we're not the same, and our world is better, more colorful, and more interesting because of that. The moment we realize this, we start to have more meaningful arguments, the kind that lead to progress and understanding, rather than violence and hurt.

Let's argue it out. Let's debate, and listen to each other. Let's take the time to get worked up until we laugh about it, or cry about it, or go our separate ways to cool off before we get together again. As long as we realize that we're all neighbors; we're all in this together for whatever time the forces of life grant us. That is the kind of peace I’d like to see for us. Not a boring, utopian ‘garden-of-eden’ peace where nothing ever happens. I’m talking about a gritty, messy, twenty-first century kind of peace. The the kind our country was founded on. The kind that works.

"DVD" Commentary

I'm a huge fan of DVD commentaries. I love being able to watch a movie with the people who created it - learn about the process, hear their inappropriate inside jokes, and get a sense of what the artists are like alongside their work. For those of you who share this love of bonus features, "Leave The Light On" producer Dan Diaz and I sat down and recorded a little DVD-style commentary where we listened back and talked a little, off-the-cuff, about the songs and the making of the record. You can see it in several parts on Youtube, starting here:

Tucson

I want a quick word with my generation.

The suspect in the shooting in Tucson this morning is 22 years old. He could have been our classmate, our friend, our sibling. Throughout the day, many angry people have already started to lay blame in all kinds of places and people. Placing blame is natural, but wherever we're making excuses and scapegoats, we're usually not making progress.

As individuals in a democracy, we live by the word and the vote, not by the gun and the sword. This shooter was one of our own, a member of our generation. If this 22 year old was old enough to disrupt the things we stand for and create such momentous tragedy, certainly all of us are old enough to counteract that by creating and promoting peace in our communities. We have a tendency to think of ourselves as helpless members of a society where decisions and attitudes are being shaped without our participation, and as members of a new generation of American grown-ups, we simply can't afford to think that way anymore. It's our responsibility to recognize that we're not that much different from each other in our needs and dreams, and to speak out in favor of peace and understanding, rather than trying to vilify and eliminate those we don't agree with, especially those serving within our own political system.

Yes, there is a lot of disagreement these days about how our country should be run, but disagreement is the root of progress. We can't be afraid to disagree. We have to battle these things out in the intellectual arena, because that's what builds real understanding. Bloodshed doesn't make people sympathetic. It just makes us hurt.

I'm an artist and an entertainer, not a politician, and it's not my goal to get wrapped up in all these arguments. But as someone who loves the country and the community I grew up in, I think it's important to address events like this that really have the potential to shape our lives. Every event either makes us feel more vulnerable or safer, more jaded or more idealistic, and a lot of that is a result of how we respond to it. There is enough turbulence in the world already. Let America be a place of peace, love, and an honest attempt at understanding. And let that start with us.

Awakening

This morning I meant to get up at 7:30, and I ended up in bed until 11. For whatever reason, I just couldn't face it today. The worst part was that I couldn't allow myself to enjoy the late start because I was too worried about sabotaging one of the first days of what I'd prematurely dubbed "my most productive year yet!".

For someone who likes to have a plan, it's nearly impossible for me to keep a normal schedule. I've been trying for six years. A major challenge for any artist is finding some way to structure your life in a profession whose very nature is to defy structure. I'm a homebody, but as soon as I start to establish a normal routine, it's time to hit the road again. Sometimes I go to bed at 10pm; sometimes I write and write until 3 or 4 in the morning, and sometimes I plan to write at a certain time and nothing good comes out. Sometimes I'm driving somewhere and I have to pull over to write down lyrics, or a thought, or a joke - usually when I'm on my way to something where punctuality is key (a meeting, a date, the airport...). A good thought or lyric or melody is often like a dream; if you don't record it right away, it simply vanishes. I've learned to honor that inspiration when it comes, and take the wrath of whoever was waiting for me on the other end. In rare cases, I'll let a moment of inspiration go, and I'm always regretful when I do.

I know nobody wants to hear me complain about the inconveniences of my dream job. I just needed to vent for a second.

Emerson once wrote that an artist who is traveling craves the comfort and consistency of home, and an artist at home can't wait to get back out on the road (I'm paraphrasing here) but that the true power of understanding lies in that delicate balance between life at home and life away. It's not a matter of always wanting what we don't have (although there's always some of that in life); it's more about needing two things at once to understand the balance. In one way or another, we're all either 'at home' or 'away' at any given moment; either doing something comfortable or something challenging, in motion or staying still. I think a lot of people lose that perspective that comes with balancing both, and it's only natural - people get older, settle down in one place with an office and a girlfriend and a dog, maybe a fish (don't get a fish, by the way - too much investment, no payoff). The point is, it's easy to forget how big the world is. Generally, "Gosh, It's such a small world," is a phrase reserved for people who haven't been on a sixteen hour flight recently. Our own little concentric circles may be small, but make no mistake - it is a GIANT world out there, and there's a lot to discover, both away and in our own backyards.

The new year began with all its fanfare and now it's time to get to work again, and sometimes it's easier said than done. We often spend time waiting for an awakening - waiting for some big cosmic alarm clock to shake us out of our routine and give us the fire to start doing what we know we're meant to do, to put some resolve behind our resolutions. And if it doesn't come, we just go back to the norm, hoping it will show up eventually. We hit snooze and sleep through the static.

Here's the deal: We are the resolve. We have to be the awakening, for ourselves and each other. It's difficult but necessary. I need to see you out there doing what you're meant to do because it fires me up to do the same. And you need the same from me.

With that, I'm getting back to work. Even if I have to start a little later than I'd planned.

J