December was spent focused on a project that left little time for anything else. Friends knew I’d be scarce, I knew I wouldn’t play guitar for 6 weeks or spend a minute working on the records or other endeavours close to my heart. Twitter checks, when accessed, provided a nice link in and out of the work at hand, but those moments were rare.
A week ago I started reading the feeds again and was aware of the intensity of the scattered chatter. When working at home, it’s welcome to step into a noisy room, do some tracking, listening, learning and dip back out. But this time I was just tired. I longed for longform. I bought books. I turned off the radio. I borrowed books from the library, pulled pencils out of drawers, wrote letters. I thought about how much I’d like to write short essays, long questions, but try and then don’t and wondered why.
I’ve some ideas I won’t share here, it’s just process…but I think it’s time to try again. If a reader wants more informed, traditional, cunning, snarky, earnest, funny, casual, accomplished, there are plenty of options. Prettier pictures, more illuminating, ok. And plenty of what I want to work through I’ll do offline, privately, or in sound. There’s much in this all everything all the time online world that I prefer to keep in the realm of the corporeal or just keep to myself.
That said, there’s stories from travels and questions at hand, conversations to be explored, the need to learn. So onward, again, for now, until……