I've been writing like crazy. It's been going on since Thanksgiving. I read Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way and I've been writing the morning pages ever since. Trying to break through too many years of rust and writer's block. I don't often get to write the morning pages in the morning, but I always write them--three longhand pages every day. I've written just under 200 pages now, about 40,000 words. Filled the sketch pad in two months where it took me 10 years to fill the previous one. I always write on blank page sketch pads--done that since college. I probably have a half dozen of them filled.
I want to try the other techniques Julia Cameron mentions. The morning pages are just part of her program. But, it's been helping. I have a number of pieces of songs in the now full notebook. I am working on resuscitating my long lost songwriting career. If nothing else, getting older always reminds me we aren't here forever. I've had this dream of making music my life since I first picked up the guitar. And, during the last few years, I've let that slip away like one of my favorite poets, Langston Hughes, writes about in "Harlem." What happens to a dream deferred? It sort of just dissipates. But in my case, it also pulls at me constantly; it nags me like a child wanting attention. Remember me? Are you ready to let me go? And so, I am giving it another go. I've done it before. I know some of the road already. I can see the trails others have left in front of me. I just can't ignore it any longer.