Writers block

I’ve been trying to write, and I’ve been getting frustrated.  I’m happy, I have nothing to write about.  I need to write lyrics for a song, I hate everything that comes out of my head, I never realised how proud I am of my misery.  I re-read every sad thing from every horrendous and painful moment I have documented, nothing.  Everything I put on paper sounds generic and dull, who knew being blissfully content was so unproductive.

My first promise to me

This year is for exploring, for expanding my mind, strengthening my body.  I’ll dedicate myself to actually living, to enjoying and appreciating.  This year I’ll push myself, get to know myself, grow myself.  This year is for accepting what already is and acknowledging what’s beyond my control.  This year is for loving – my environment, my family, friends and myself.  This year is for music, for yoga and travel, food, family and friends.  I see the sad times creeping towards me, heartbreak washing over me, but I will not shy away – let it wash over me, let it sting and burn.  I’ll grow comfortable in discomfort, take strength when I feel weak, I promise myself, I will be present for it all.

 

Whiskey, Music, Love.

We drank whiskey and made music. I’ve never recorded music before, I’ve never sung in front of someone like that before. Anyway, the music sounded good and it must have turned us on because we ended up all over each other. My hand brushed my leg at one point and I remembered that I hadn’t been touched for a very. long. time. I announced ‘my legs are hairy!’ and he instantly replied, ‘don’t worry, I’m a feminist’. 

New Soul

Have you ever met someone and it’s like coming home, you can’t possibly have just met them because you know them before they’ve said a thing.  Nothing needs explaining, because we both know what’s meant.  Has someone shared music with you and it’s like they found your favourite songs for you, how did they know? Something speaks to your soul.  I wasn’t sure what a soul was, but I can feel it, it’s the deepest definition of who I am, it’s my core, my me-ness.  I never saw it until it was reflected in someone else, but now it’s there bright as day.

guitar

Burrell

My morning coffee kicks in and I remember how to smile.  The resentment I radiate for the first hour of the day subsides and I can finally appreciate the sun shining through my office window.

Burrell started talking to me on Sunday.  In true 2016 fashion, I liked a status his sister put up about his music, and he added me on Instragram where he stumbled across a picture of me with a banjo, that was enough reason for him to send me a message.  We have friends in common, we like the same music, he’s a very talented musician, he said he likes my singing voice and we should make some music together.  Trying not to get swept up in some kind of Nashville-esq frenzy I evaluate his intentions and whether I can, in good conscience build a musical bond with him, because at the end of the day the question is, would be just be a musical bond?