When it all works

When I’m writing and it’s going well it feels like I’m talking out loud.  Which is troublesome when I’m a crowded room, like now.

Sometimes it’s like I suddenly remember all the lyrics to a song I’ve never written before.  The tune is flowing through my fingertips, the keyboard my piano.

When it doesn’t work I realize it can often be the rhythm that is off, which is why I’m not beholden to the keyboard.  There is a physicality to thought and story that needs to be expressed.  I like having different ways to physically write around.  I have an old electronic typewriter that takes some strength in my fingers to use, and the aggressive clacking as each key strikes the paper can fuel my fire when the mind wants to grasp something else.

I have pens and different weighted papers around.

If I’m at my computer, I don’t have a chair but rather a giant ball to bounce or twist on as I type.

But now, now there is singing and I worry others might here before the tune is ready.  Plus, they’re all taking a test.

 

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