A Tale of 2 People

In 1980 after 10 years, a long term relationship and two daughters, all went down in flames.
I retreated to NYC where I had lived the previous nine. I literally left with one small suitcase, my two guitars, and one broken heart. Leaving my kids was the most heartbreaking experience I have ever been through and wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone. The first day I arrived in N.Y. I cut my hair, shaved my long beard threw all my clothes out in a dumpster. I needed to shed a lot, a symbol of who I had been and the beginning of who I would become. I was never able to shed the heartbreak.
Having spent so much of my life in the Adirondack Mountain’s of N.Y. I had never any desire to shed that part of me, nor could I if I tried.
I dove into the music scene head first, met my old friend Mark Shimm who immediately became my manager. Within a few weeks we walked into a well known recording studio in the famous “ Brill Building “ with my guitar in hand, I played a few songs I had written to the owners , Bang ! we were in, they gave us $20,000 worth of studio time. I was finding my way as a song writer and wasn’t there yet as far as I was concerned but others saw something that was about to be realized. I was beginning to become aware that I couldn’t write anything that was not autobiographical. It was becoming more apparent that I was using music as a survival tool. It was my valve to release the pressure built up from the heartbreak of losing my kids. I knew it was a double edge sword, living a rock n roll lifestyle, hard and fast, but music probably in the end saved my life. What gave me some form of balance was my love of the woods and being in the Adirondacks. Every summer I was allowed to take my two daughters for a week or two and we’d go hiking or on canoe trips. This seemed to be a polar opposite of my city life to many, but for me it made complete sense, I loved my kids and I loved the mountains and it was another valve to open and give me hope.
Being in the city however was a fast and hard life and pressure seemed to always come in like the rolling surf. I had so much pent up energy and NYC being what it was, was an outlet and a generator . I found it easy to get into brawls as a release, that seemed to go along with my music. My relationships with women were always kept at a distance, I would only allow it to go so far. That I regret because I hurt a few. They would fall for this guy who on the outside was caring and interested but when it came to any form of commitment the wall came up. It always seemed to be a pattern though, that when a relationship was terminated, too many brawls, and terminating my band to start a new one, I would always go on my much needed “walkabout,“ up to the mountains to regain a part of of me lost, and my sanity.
That of course still goes on today, relying on the mountains for balance and give something back in a positive way.

NYC 1975 with my two daughters Prairie Wells and Willow Shoshona