Woke up to freezing rain and a mesmerizing haze over the meadow. The usual morning routing ensued. Listened to a band that a friend suggested. No, that didn’t actually happen.
I did listen to the flames licking the inside of the wood stove causing a stir of sounds that mingled with my ears ringing from decades of being exposed to loud amps and angry drummers.
This morning I was told that habits are formed in 21 days. I'm hoping for a habitual blog situation. I told the habit info sharing friend, over the planting of hundreds of baby basil plants with ice pelleting the greenhouse, that I hope to curate a songwriting workshop similar to one that I was about to implement before the Pandemic. If you don’t know what Pandemic I’m referring to, I’ll explain another time. Song writing is profound to me and I’m not entirely sure why I have the need to want to encourage others to write. In writing this, some thoughts about why I write have oddly surfaced. Here’s one example. The writing of a song will often reveal the true emotions in me (yes sadly this is all about me)that I don’t see or feel before sitting down to write. A release of sorts occurs. Alright now Jennie, calm the hell down. That’s enough for now. More soon. If you are interested in the workshops…please comment. Til tomorrow.
