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Next Time

April 19, 2009

Last night, I’d resigned myself to a Saturday night alone and had created a nest of pillows and handmade fleece blankets.  I was settled in with a ball point pen and a huge binder full of blank loose leaf paper, because when you start thinking you might actually send the letters you’re writing, it turns into a whole different game.  A bright computer screen and the click-clicking of your fingers on the keyboard take away the personality and the intimacy of the entire experience.  Taking a piece of paper in your hands and running your pen over it front and back, knowing that same piece of paper might soon be in someone else’s hands?  It makes the world seem a little smaller, and that’s such a good thing.

I was in the middle of drafting the fourth version of that letter when the phone rang.  That’s another thing– if you’re writing by hand you can’t exactly click and rewrite here and there.  You have to get it right. Anyway, the phone rang, startled me out of my head, and as evidenced by the post from late last night/early this morning, I most certainly did not end up spending my Saturday night alone.  I spent it in Fiddler’s makeshift home studio having enormous fun.  Either my songs are doing what I hope to do with them, or he and I really get each other… or both.  He’s got the musical ear and the technical chops to make my songs happen, and I am so excited to keep working with him.  We worked for hours.

All to say I never did come up with a letter I was comfortable sending.  I’m guessing it’s still going to be awhile.

One of those drafts completely got away from me, though.  I wrote and wrote until suddenly my head was in a place I’d never let it get to before and I was saying things I had no idea I had ever felt or thought.

I’m so young in so many ways.  Too old in too many others.

I never did finish that letter, but I sat and read what I’d written over and over.  I read it until I’d practically memorized it and then put it down and ran it through my head again and again, trying to make sense of it, wrap my head around it, and own up to it.

What I realized scared me.

It’s still scaring me right now and it’s taking quite a bit of self control not to dump my mind all over this post, but it’s for another time and place, this revelation.

Something wonderful and tangible did come from this, though.

It was one of those songs that write themselves.  The words and the melodies are just there, floating around the room, and all you have to do is pluck them out of the air and pin them down to the keyboard, key of A.

It was perfect.  I’d done all the thinking already, and when I finally took a step back, I realized that as frightening as it all was, it was also rather poetic.  It was so real that I couldn’t stand not to say it out loud, and so that’s what I did.

I said it out loud.

And if you’re wondering about the time and place for that mess in my head to become public?

Well, that would be in Fiddler’s makeshift home studio.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. April 20, 2009 1:08 am

    :)

  2. April 20, 2009 3:58 pm

    How exciting!

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