When I Got Cool...

I grabbed my bike, and headed to the studio to meet Gregor, who was giving me guitar lessons in return for ghost writing his autobiography.

Traffic was actually light, and I bolted between red lights and stop signs, barely working up a sweat in the cool dawn.

Gregor slept during the day, no doubt dreaming up his amazing aural landscapes and visual palettes. When he returned from Operation Desert Storm, the chilling agony that laid behind his eyes purged itself through art and music.

One would expect his haunting visions to manifest themselves through dark and deadly forms of imagination, but surprisingly, his art and music were beautiful, rich and deep. We're not talking Barry Manilow love songs, mind you, but soulful and insightful works.

Last year, Gregor decided to put his story into book form. Although he was an artist and musician, he realized that he was too close to the story and needed an objective eye to focus on it. He put an ad on Craigslist, and apparently, I was the first to respond.

At the interview, Gregor and I realized that we had a lot in common. We shared a love for the arts - he could paint and play music, and I loved looking at art and listening to music. We became quick friends, and came to an agreement for writing the book.

Part of the agreement was that Gregor and I would work in the morning. He tended to stay up all night, fueled by Led Zeppelin, Foo Fighters, Iron Maiden, and Crystal Method, painting on floor to ceiling canvases in preparation for his latest exhibit.

In order to wind down after painting, he would have me come over to his studio, and we would have a couple of drinks - I would drink coffee-flavored water, and he would drink Absinthe - fresh off its' 100 year ban. We would work together for a couple of hours, and I would go to my "real job", and transcribe my notes at home later on.

As I said, Gregor and I quickly became friends. But business was business, and I had to ensure I was being paid fairly for the work I was doing. When Gregor came up short on cash one week, we decided to lower my fee, but only if he agreed to give me guitar lessons once a week.

It was Friday, and I was stoked. I work 10 hour shifts four times a week. Today was the first day of my weekend, and the summer morning was starting beautifully.

(more to come...?)