Peace, Friends!

Against some unlikely odds, I have made my deadline! Today I am officially releasing my newest project: an EP called Mixed Vice Work.

Amongst much ado and hubbub, I can announce that the new EP is now available for you to hear and to own!  I have made ALL OF THE SONGS FREE FOR LISTENING at:

www.jonwatts.com/listen

…and the album is available for purchase, along with lots of other intriguing and worthwhile art at:

www.jonwatts.com/store

What’s an Ep?

An EP is a short CD.  Mixed Vice Work is 6 songs.  It’s concise, and it’s affordable.

Many Thanks

As you may know from previous newsletters, I’ve had a pretty tough two years since my last CD.  The successful completion of this EP is very significant in that it (along with my two tours this past year) shows further evidence that I have landed on my feet and am joyfully flowing forward with my life.

Many of the people in this list have been instrumental in making that possible.  I am deeply grateful to:

• Jackie Stillwell
• Frederick Martin
• Hallel Parsons
• …and all those who were loving and supportive when I had a difficult decision to make at The Meeting School
• Robyn Josephs for a place to land (spiritually, geographically)
• Walter Hjelt-Sullivan
• Niyonu Spann
• My Parents
• Michelle Martin for her hospitality when I moved to Carrboro
• The Hillsborough Road Co-op in Carrboro, NC
• A.J. Bryce for his enthusiasm and dedication to his own music and support for mine
• Chapel Hill Friends Meeting
• my support committee: Mike Green, Lauren Hart, Lynn Drake
• Sidney Martin and his Rongos
• Harriet Hart
• Maggie Harrison
• Tim Esser-Haines
• Chuck Esser and Pamela Haines
• The West Philadelphia Worship Group
• All of the Meetings and organizations that hosted me in the Fall of ’08 and Spring ’09
• Carly Frintner for being my elder, fellow poet and lover of living
• Coleman
• Ben Schilling
• Leigh Gaston
• All of those who have been interested, enthusiastic and encouraging about this project and the rest of my career as an artist.  Your support means so much.

An Appeal…

This past year I have been supported in so many ways by those around me and by those who have hosted my performances. But I can’t be traveling and performing all of the time, and this is a difficult environment to be earning a living selling recorded music. I am learning that I must be more honest and direct about asking for financial support in what I do.

I have grown beyond the point of taking it personally when my art is not well supported, but it is important to note: it is logistically impossible for me to continue making art on this scale if folks like you are not willing to pay for it.

I would ask that you please be aware that I have no benefactor. I put down my own money on the project.  If I don’t get a significant return on my investment, I can only maintain this level of output for the (very) short term.

So if my ministry has moved you in the past, or you have seen lives changed by the Spirit that moves through me, support us! The EP is just $6.95!  Consider a purchase at:

www.JonWatts.com/store

Think of it as an investment in your community!

If nothing else, it is easy for you to visit www.jonwatts.com/listen and have a listen!

Other Ways to Support

Have a look at the promotional video for Mixed Vice Work!

“This is Art and it’s important.  It’s not enough that you enjoy it.  I’m asking you to join it.”

-from “Grab a Pen”, track 4 on Mixed Vice Work

love and joy!
See you at FGC!
Jon Watts

ps Look out for the next “Stories from Mixed Vice Work,” coming in about two weeks!

I can’t tell you
all of the things you don’t see
if your eyes are open
they’re unfocused
and if I had
a little magic left
I could love you out of this mess
hocus pocus

But I’ve been empty
I haven’t had any love for you
the most I could do is
keep breathing
this is so painful
if we can’t sit at the same table
then I won’t know
what poison you’ve been eating

But I’m not playing it
these awful guessing games
have me trying to name the un-nameable
and now you’re running away
and I’ve stopped running at all
so I’ll just sit and face fate
and that’s a face full.

I don’t know how to tell you
anything at all
I don’t know if it would help if I was asked
so now I’m sitting, hand to chin
waiting for next fall
maybe that’s when the past will have passed

I’ve absorbed
quite a bit of nothingness
and that could mean anything
but at least now I see nothing clearly
I say to friends, no, she hasn’t said anything
maybe she doesn’t want to be near me

this is the ghost jon speaking

I never thought you’d kill me too
I guess it’s redundant to say now
that I loved you
and that I trusted you
and that my hurt and my anger
are because you
didn’t choose to
follow through

so when I come to your place
and try to say goodbye
and you don’t show your face
you just hide
why should I believe that you’re alright?
I don’t believe that.

And so I’m hurt right now
and you’ve bound up my lips
with a fear of action, loss,
fear of thoughtlessness
I was too trusting
I didn’t trust enough
and now I fall over apologies and such
son of a crutch

now you play me like a xylophone
that won’t shut up
but I’ve been silent for eight months
I’m listening to nothing
trying to make sense of
something so nonsensical
a cynic wouldn’t sense that it was coming
and start running

so now we’ve died
no one can identify the killer
I think i know the murder weapon
but I’ll leave that for September
and I’ll remember you
I’ll send this simple gift of truth to my future self
remind him that you put me through hell

I love you and I miss you but you’re not worth hell.

This is
an interfaith dialogue.
It’s intergenerational.

This is on the internet.
It’s personal, sensational.

This is
individual, and
group consciousness.
It’s emotional and logical
abstract common sense.

This is
solidness.
it’s tangible, it’s something you can touch.
If you’re capable of loving
you can’t love too much

…and if you’re broken, this can heal you
or help you heal yourself
This is spoken word and song
and it’s only here to help.

This is art and it’s important
Support it
It’s not enough that you enjoy it
I’m asking you to join it
So if you’re listening
then grab a pen,
write a letter to yourself
or to someone else
join the conversation.
write a song or a poem
learn to let go

It’s not the end of the world
Someone else can feel it too
I’m a human being just like you
And I’m honest in this forum
this formula’s enduring
all the time and the attention it’s afforded

And it’s only getting better
as I relax and sit back
let my muse do the talking
while my brain writes the raps

You should try it
it’s been worth
every boulder
that I’ve shouldered
just to get to be an artist for another sacred moment
like playing a show out in the rain
if no one came except for Spirit
and my love for life
then that’s audience enough

Money is another story
but that story’s kind of boring
Just pay for this CD
and then no one has to worry

This is art and it’s important
Support it
It’s not enough that you enjoy it
I’m asking you to join it
So if you’re listening
then grab a pen,
write a letter to yourself
or to someone else
join the conversation.
write a song or a poem
learn to let go

this is art and it’s only here to help you get settled and express a little better what you felt, a love letter to yourself or your sadness or whatever you’ve embedded in your psyche, your community, your health. this is to your health.

I’m like friendship
because I’m half dead.
I’m like a drop of food coloring.

We’re all seeing red.
Now I’m asleep,
but I’ve got the guts to admit it.
I know what fulling living is,
and I’m partially existing.

Now I’m alone.
I’m just alone.
Even if you do call me,
I won’t pick up my phone.
My living situation’s
looking pretty bare bones.
I spend my time considering
the validity of my old poems.

Don’t look at me,
just look away.
You could ask me all your questions
but I won’t find much to say.
I’m not old.
this is my birth day.
My story’s not been told
because I started it today.

Listen to lies
and then speak the truth.
You don’t need to be a freedom fighter
just to have proof
that the truth is beautiful
just the way it is.
I live in condescension of these fibs.
-or-
I’ve got a living contradiction in my ribs.

This is called my summer.
Also, “things fall apart.”
It doesn’t need an introduction
or a lead guitar.
I could feel it in my body
like you might feel your heart
and it’s beating.

If I could say two words
that would live forever.
It’s: authenticity
(and then I’d think of something clever)
I’ve been having trouble speaking lately
listen to my voice.
Luckily, we all have a choice.

Listen to lies
and then speak the truth.
You don’t need to be a freedom fighter
just to have proof
that the truth is beautiful
just the way it is.
I live in condescension of these fibs.
-or-
I’ve got a living contradiction in my ribs.

We are lovers of the Truth.
And that gives us courage
because we know
We’ll find a way to love you.

Some of us are young.
Others, alcoholics.
And we all know it matters what you call it.

Listen, I’m not feeling afraid.
I’m not afraid of clarity.
If anything I’m grateful when it comes.

But I haven’t felt too clear,
and so I’m waiting with sincerity.

Illumination rises with the sun.

One day I got lost in my shoes.
I was living with bruises,
defending it with two fists.

Bounce to the mountaintop.
Look in the thrift shops.
Find a little nice peice of linen,
living sin,
and
for your pen top,
send it in a tin top.

Listen:
when offense is given,
that’s a thin slice of living like a gentleman.

Be a gentle woman.
Women sending signals mixed within
any silly, simple little sentences.

Symptoms include:
a total lack of food

And in a bad mood,
in a sad back room
the synapses conclude
that the fad ends soon

and the mad little savages
that battle rapped
with their mavericky battle axes
entrapped within

another massive fashion magazine’s blasephemous tactics said:
“it’s just a little harrasment.”

We’re great.
Your sedatives can keep us sedate.

And while same sex marriage stays state to state
We’re going local.
Pick up the mic and throw vocals
in your phonebook. Send it to folks that you know.

look, we’re related.
Some thumbsucker’s belated
little saint thinks
the same shit is sane so we traded.

Save a bit of peace
as an interesting treat
for when you’re jaded.
Fame came late and now it’s faded.

I’m playing with my own identity.
Listening in can be free, see

Everyone is blind.
Finding their sight from behind, right
Mind the light.

And assign my problems
so someone can solve them
Look and how my hands
can’t stop these goblins

a long bomb’s falling
from the bogs of Conchord
where our fathers got lost in the fog.

Our forefathers got lost in Boston.
It’s the fault of Lord Baltimore
and it’s all the more solemn
for the following of psalms.

Some sons and daughters
of the hypocrites, which,
to the benefit of many,
found themselves giving in to sentimental money.

We’re great.
Your sedatives can keep us sedate.

And while same sex marriage stays state to state
We’re going local.
Pick up the mic and throw vocals
in your phonebook. Send it to folks that you know.

look, we’re related.
Some thumbsucker’s belated
little saint thinks
the same shit is sane so we traded.

Save a bit of peace
as an interesting treat
for when you’re jaded.
Fame came late and now it’s faded.