I have a confession to make.
I have been feeling less than… well, inspired. Most of my time has been occupied by school over the past couple of years. But I finally graduated with a B.S. in Resource and Environmental Studies in May. I thought for sure once that piece of paper was framed and on my wall I would resume all musical pursuits in addition to finally landing the day job of my dreams.
I’ve been in the process of planning my wedding. Yet another reason for music (and job hunting) to take a back seat.
But this isn’t about jobs. This is about music. My music. Or lack thereof.
In the past I had written songs as catharsis to soothe my wounded soul from failed relationships. Ahem- Didn’t I just mention that I’m getting hitched? I think it’s safe to say things have been a-ok in the love department. No need to flash the songwriting bat symbol into the sky.
The wall I’ve hit musically is a very basic case of writer’s block. I haven’t really had anything to say. But not having anything to say has left me feeling bitter, if anything, towards playing altogether. And it’s been driving me crazy.
Well guess what. Something wonderful happened this week. I actually noticed- no- remembered how much I love music. I was driving downtown and Pete Yorn’s Strange Condition played on the radio. It put me in a really great mood; I was one of those obliviously happy drivers dancing and singing along in the car. Yesterday I popped in my old Lemonhead’s cd It’s A Shame About Ray. I was once again one of “those” people. And tonight I played a mix of Pete Yorn and Ryan Adams tunes while my fiance drove us home from a friend’s. My big happy announcement is that I’ve simply been enjoying listening to music. That’s silly, right? RIGHT??
Maybe. But maybe not. Loving the sound of music usually leads to playing something of my own. And really, that’s all I want right now. The urge.
This was one of my favorite songs in 2001, the year I finally decided to learn guitar *or at least become sufficient enough to play my own songs. So, just as a reminder to myself. For when I’m blue. You know.