Writing is a solitary pursuit--the imagination guiding the hand moving the pen. I'm pretty old-school, valuing the work of good editors and the revisions process before letting my words go public. But life is short, right? And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to spout off.

About me...

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A writer, mother, teacher, friend, I love books, blizzards and beaches, music from Hildegard von Bingen to the Beatles to Bonnie Raitt to The Brood; I love medieval churches, red wine, creme caramel, and roasted beets, and walking the woods and coastlines of home. 

Friday, May 28, 2010

Writing through the noise

Best time last night at Company House listening to ensembles from NSCC performing. Scribbling furiously on notepad between sets. Something about the energy of a bar buzzing with musicians, about writing through ruckus that precedes music. A dark, happy jumble. Writing without knowing who and what may jump up and grab the mic. Coming away surprised, joyful and trusting that random solo parts will (someday) solder/soldier together, making chrome.
Jazz, world, poppy pop, latin & metal: melded together, rocking the House.
Patience, patience. Meanwhile, solitary words like ridiculous liner notes, for now. More patience. Daily, nightly scribbling wherever you may find yourself.
Opiate of discovery when all the parts hum, shred, soar.

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