I write the songs that make the whole world sing

Okay, maybe I don’t.  I’d like to, but I am realistic enough to recognize that that’s probably improbable.  (Barry Manilow was kind of cocky in writing that song wasn’t he?  Then again, he DID write the songs that make the whole world sing.  Her name was Lola, she was a show girl, with yellow feathers in her hair, and her dress cut down to there… I fucking love Barry Manilow.  There, I said it.)

Anywhoo, I am pleased to report that 2 weeks after this post, I have completed two songs, lyrics and music, including the one y’all helped me with (although I suspect it may be tweaked just a bit yet before all is said and done…not too sure about the bridge I put into it).  This is an increase of 200% over last year’s total song production, and we’re still in January.  Thus, I have set myself a goal of writing 2 songs a month this year, since clearly it can be done when I’m not being (completely) lazy and avoidant (because in truth I have still been somewhat lazy and avoidant).  If I could write 2 songs a month, I would be pretty damn impressed with myself, while simultaneously berating myself, because if I could write 2 dozen songs this year, I could’ve done it lo these many years, and what a pathetic waste that I did not, ultimately ending up comforting my sad, savaged self with copious amounts of chocolate almond fudge ice cream which, second only to peppermint bonbon (or mint chip, if you will), is my favorite ice cream, in case you were wondering what to get me for my birthday.

I’m feeling a bit giddy and accomplished, because I’ve been a slacker so long on this, to finally have produced something is nothing short of miraculous.  This is also the reason this week’s post is exceedingly brief (for me), as I could not see writing a big ol’ post when I had songs that needed finishing.  Demos for these songs are not currently available because a) I finished writing them literally moments before I started this post, and b) this cold I’ve had for a full week now has killed my voice, and any such demo recorded now would sully this songbird’s reputation for eternity.  But soon, my little cabbages, soon.

Did I mention giddy?

What are you up to creatively these days?

I've been finding excuses. But it IS important to me; I printed this and put it on my music stand.

Sundog

In recent years, I’ve been finding more and more stuff is leaving the house than being brought in. It seems every time I clean, I have something to toss, something to pass along to someone else, or something for the charity bag, and I like it. I like the space it opens up, and it feels good to streamline and get rid of what is not useful or beautiful. I’d like to say it’s entirely a Zen mindfulness of what we need and what we don’t, or consideration for the environment that makes us reuse, repair, and recycle more and consume less, and in truth, there’s some of that in the mix. But helping us on our way to happy asceticism are three furry critters who regularly destroy things, forcing us to throw them in the trash. It’s really only a matter of time before we are bereft of all possessions that reside within four feet of the floor. Coffee cups, the sunflower seeds we keep in the little cabinet above the stove, and my guitars will be all that’s left to us before long.

This past week, it was the end of my beanbag, ONLY my FAVORITE piece of furniture in the house, and the second one that gave up its life absorbing dog pee (mostly Rocky’s–oh, he looks so sweet and innocent, but he’s a shitbird extraordinaire); this time, it couldn’t be resuscitated because I discovered the inner zipper had given out when I pulled the washable cover off. It is currently our trash for the week; nothing else will fit in the bin. He’s been on a tear, too, because he dug a big hole in our little leather couch. He really does a lot of damage for a 12-pound dog.  He keeps up with Daisy, who recently destroyed the latest in a long line of dog beds, actual and makeshift.

I got the leather couch hauled away and picked up a couple of inexpensive chairs to replace it in the library, and this has had the unexpected benefit of allowing a lot more light into the front room.  (The couch used to sit in front of, and block part of, the window.) The dogs have taken full advantage of the fact that they may now lie down in the warmth of sunbeams in carpeted comfort, instead of sunbathing lying in the gravel in the backyard, and none so much as Daisy. She’s our resident sun worshipper, and will work on her tan for hours on end, which is not the best plan for a fair-skinned dog who is generally bright pink to begin with, but we can’t stop her short of imprisoning her. From the first moment the morning sun hits the chair on the right until it finally is lost late in the afternoon on the left, she’s there (between snacks, of course); she’s our own personal canine sundial. And she’s pretty adorable.

I don’t always sit in a chair, but when I do, it’s going to be in the sun,
looking as much like an actual person as possible.