My friend Ronnie and I always joke about that expression "pull yourself up by the bootstraps." It's really annoying if you're in a funk. 

Ronnie always puts it in perspective and says, "I wish I had some boots, Jo."

Sometimes I feel like my boots are still made for walking. Some days, I'm pulling and pulling and I swear I'm hooking the straps over my ears I've stretched them out so far. And they still won't hold.

One thing I treasured from this June's visit to SQUAM ART WORKSHOPS was the plaque on the dining hall wall with all the fishing records of summers long gone. There's A.W. Kimbell with his/her 5 pound 2 ounce 20 inch bass. There's Philip E. Bourne weighing in with his 4 pound 20 inch bass. Even Marguerite Davenport caught a fish. But best of all? 1948, Thomas B. McAdams - FOR TRYING.

Now, I've never gone fishing. Yup, never caught a fish, and I don't know that I have the patience, (I suppose I could knit AND hold the rod) but I just love that little Tommy Mc A. got his name on the plaque anyway for getting out there with the rest of them and sitting on that dock, waiting and waiting for the bass that never bit.

So I'm struggling today with a song that just won't behave. All I can do is go back to basics. Try every angle, every color. Keep baiting the hook. (and mixing metaphors!)

Then I summon my girl power pals and remember I'm not alone.

Then I face the door, the wall, the page, the mandolin, the wurlitzer

They don't call it woodshedding for nothing.

At the end of the day. Maybe I can at least put my name on the wall FOR TRYING.

I had the chance to go visit David Sanborn in the recording studio last week. He was recording a new record with Steve Gadd, Joey DeFrancesco, Gil Goldstein... among others. Phil Ramone was producing.

We listened back to "You've Changed," "Gee honey ain't I good to you," and "God Bless the Child."

This music is classic, yet still visceral, Dave's playing is bold and raw, heartbreaking and triumphant from one breath to the next. But, as with most of my musical heroes, he wasn't sure it was 'good enough.'

Dave is a perfectionist, to the point of obsession. But like so many people I admire, he takes nothing for granted, and, most of the time, thinks he really sucks. He is a master, he IS the sound of the saxophone, he IS the one that everyone imitates, and yet he still questions every note, every musical decision. Well, as far as I'm concerned, the songs I heard are DONE. they've got everything they need. You hear the pathos, the struggle, there's space, and dynamics. The musicianship is ridiculous and yet effortless.

Just another gentle reminder that we're not alone out there battling the "i suck" factor. It's just part of the creative deal. I know I've talked about it before, but it definitely bears restating.

And maybe the point is, the second you really think you are the cat's pajamas? That's when you might actually suck after all!!

I've been walking around the city a lot this week. Walking is always a sure fire way to stir up some new melodies, and New York is never lacking for vivid stories along the way either.

On the way home yesterday I stopped at one of my favorite all time sanctuaries in the city. Thankfully it wasn't raining. (it has rained here 18 out of the last 20 days, arggg) Today is no exception.

The Conservatory Garden is the most peaceful unspoiled spot I know. There is an expansive green entryway with full on fountain, and gorgeous trellacy walk behind it.

There is a little grown over hideaway lane with benches and cool shade.

On the left as you walk through is a perfect ever changing explosion of flowers and loveliness.

And in the center of that beauty is a little lily pad pond with a sculpture of a piper boy and a girl holding a bird bath. Often there are small marriage services going on there in the summer. Sweet families gathered in the labyrinth.

One of the things I love the most is the benches scattered throughout.

Most of them have sweet dedications attached on brass plaques. I imagine if you donate to the upkeep of the garden, (not sure what it would cost) you can be forever remembered by ponderers and those who stop to rest.

Here are my three faves:

 I'd love to know Martha and Alex's story. My husband and I have our own secret catch phrases. They always bring us back to each other, even when we're cranky or disagreeing. I imagine 'one plus one' was Alex and Martha's way to snap each other out of a fray. I think I'll add this to my arsenal.

One plus one DOES equal everything.