December 01, 2009

Long day ended

It’s been a day of endless small details, dropped server connections, lost tax numbers and a numb backside from sitting at the computer. Uploads, downloads, emails, answered and unanswered phone calls. Not a musical day. Not even a thoughtful day.

There are guitars hanging on the wall of my small studio. I walk by it dozens of times a day on my way to the room in which my computer waits. Every time, I feel a pang of guilt and make a mental note to next time enter it. Guilty days go by and I never step into the little room, never touch a guitar, a pen – never cross the threshold. Never ponder anything more than a sore hip or when I might be able to travel to Florence.

My guilt about avoiding the office is not equal to the the guitar guilt. It’s worse, because I know it’s a part of my work and I can’t get around it.  I can’t skip by the dining room, either, which looks like the back room of a Shopper’s Drug Mart postal outlet. Tape gun, return address rubber stamp, padded envelopes, black Sharpie (so different than a Shar-Pei), stamps and a postal scale. And the telephone. It weighs 100 pounds and I have to be in particularly good nick in order to pick it up, whether it be answering or calling. It’s a glamourous life I lead.

When I muse over the keyboard like this, I recall a friend’s recent comment: who cares? In response, I might have quoted Roscoe Holcomb, the departed claw-hammer banjo player and old time singer. Talk about a high lonesome song. After a performance, a man told him that the song sounded good enough, but that he couldn’t hear the words. Holcomb replied: Mister, I was singin’ that for me – not you.

Some days are like that. Some blogs are like that.

He’s singin’ that for him. Not us.


One Response to “Long day ended”
  1. Jane Greening

    Good blog. Procrastination and artistic block. It will pass.