Back to the business of getting through the day

It's just been busy busy busy here, nothing particularly creative going on. Well, there's always something creative going on, but I do have to keep some things to myself and let them percolate.

I've had some time to spend with my sister lately, and that's been remarkable. Our brains really are tuned to the same station a lot of the time. In fact, it's scary how often we discover that we're thinking each other's thoughts. Scary and great. DNA is funny stuff, you know?

More to come about that... eventually... when I'm damn good and ready...

Distortiony goodness

And now we return to a subject that I was quite obsessed about back in 2009; learning to play the electric guitar. One of the songs that I was working on Saturday needs distortion, bass, drums, B3 and a really dirty slide. The distortion on my practice amp is really unappealing to my ears, really harsh and brittle. I want a creamier, more musical distortion, so Dean Farley suggested an Ibanez Tubescreamer distortion pedal (he says they're friendly, but I think he meant "idiot-proof," though he's too nice to say it). I picked one up cheap, and plugged it in... and... well... see, I'm just so not used to THAT response when I play guitar and I think it messes with my attack or something. It sounds like ass. My dad once told me that it didn't matter what you played if you played with confidence, and hopefully that's all I'm lacking at this point.

Otherwise, just keepin' on keepin' on. Writers group meets again Wednesday at 6 - can't wait!

A quiet and guitary morning

Actually sat down and played some guitar this morning, wonder of wonders. I have about... 5 sets of lyrics written that need music, and I think I cracked three of them. It will be interesting to see what happens with these wintery songs.

It is bloody cold this morning, my gods... supposed to be even colder tomorrow. Iowa really sucks sometimes. It's so cold that it's dangerous to expose your skin for even a couple minutes. I guess I've inherited that sort of sick Iowa pride:

Hey, Winter, is that all you got? Come on! Bring it!

Hey, look what I lived through!

Yeah. We can be sooooooooo stupid. Whatever, it feels good to sit on the couch where it's... um... kinda warm though not exactly toasty, and make stuff up.

Back to it

Let's just say I've given myself some time to reflect upon the hard work I did a few weeks ago, assessing what I love and what I'm good at, listing the things I really don't want to do ever again (add to that original list scraping ice off my windshield, though that's probably not going away for a while). We won't say that I got too distracted by life, the universe and everything to actually bother to continue on this path. Diplomacy to self; it's an art.

There are some things I want to try, and I have no clue about whether they'll work. Whatever. I am ready to throw some things out there and see what sticks. I hesitate to reveal my hand at this point, simply because the couple of things I am most focused on are not completely ready yet, though now that I am focused, it won't take long.

Alright, rolling up my sleeves, rubbing my hands together rapidly, taking a deep breath...

Resolutionless

I'm not a resolutions fan. I resolved not to make any resolutions. I guess I'm really not a December 31-January 1 fan, honestly.

I like to celebrate the winter Solstice. It makes a lot of sense. It's an astrological event that happens every year; it's rich in mythology, and is a handy "odometer" marker for the planet on it's trip around the sun. My family celebrates the Longest Night, the night before the Sun is born. We put up a little tree and put lights and ornaments on it; buy little bits of several really, really decadent and stinky cheeses and some of the expensive crackers from Italy; we cut up some fruit and veggies, lay out some chocolate and whatever sweet junk food we have inherited; I make up a batch of wassail; we light a bunch of candles, turn off all the lights and tell one of the stories of the rebirth of the Sun. Then we give each other presents, and wish each other a safe journey through the Longest Night. I'd like to tell you that I stay up all night to greet the newborn Sun when it rises, but I don't (me and sleep deprivation are a bad combination). But somebody usually gets up and watches the sunrise, and somebody else lights another candle at the moment of the Solstice, and everybody takes a pause to reflect in their own way.

And then we're done, and we move forward from that point, and it's all very peaceful and nice and very natural. You can almost hear the Celestial Odometer click over. So all y'all can go ahead on out and wait for a man-made shiny ball to drop down a cheesy pole. I'm way ahead of ya, already well into the new year.

So much for blogging every day, huh? I got real busy, and it got away from me. Not much better today -I can type a few words and then the phone rings or somebody needs something. Argh.

So from the sublime musings last week we did a header back into the real world... work work work. Which is good, because work = money, though it's rarely enough. Ah, grind stone is calling once again. See what I mean? Argh!

A newly planted garden

Last night I attended the inaugural meeting of the Paul Engle Center Writer's Group, a group of individuals that come together for inspiration, creative support and incentive to write more. People who love to write, songwriters, poets, people who write reviews and columns, memoir writers, graphic novelists, and even a photojournalist, got together and agreed to be a support team for each other. It is a rather wonderful idea, and I am excited to be part of it.

One of the members, Dean Rathje, talked about Paul Engle, Grant Wood, Marvin Cone and Jay Sigmund and the relationship they had with each other, how they all inspired and influenced each other, even though two were writers and two were painters. There used to be a wonderful Community of Artists, centered in this very place. We all took a breath and realized that we could be that for each other.

So now, words are flying through my mind like wild notes; ideas vie for my attention like children; I am ravenous for my work like it's a long separated lover. I don't know what will come of this association, but I am thirsty for this creative brew!