It’s Only Paint came to me fully formed while I was standing by myself in the play yard at my son’s preschool. I didn’t write it down or record it into my phone. I was sure I wouldn’t forget it. As someone who, as I write this, could not tell you where I parked my car, that wasn’t normal for me. That night I found the key and voiced the chords at my piano while my wife was working with her back to me, sitting in an armchair nearby. I rarely play in front of her and even less often do I write or sing, but it was late, she happened to be up and I needed to get the song down. I played it through for the first time near midnight, singing out just loudly enough to be sure the chords and the melody were consonant. When I was done I could hear that she was crying. My little friend is David, who has been closer than a brother to me since we met on our first day of kindergarten.