It’s songwriting weather again, Zonk, and we all know that I can’t not blog when it rains. When it begins at least… This season always starts out pretty; but it always ends in delayed trains and floods and slush and grime. And I know that by August I’ll be wishing it away and waiting for winter. But this is June. Beautiful, grey, melancholy June. When you write songs and feel old and slightly sad and think of things and people you haven’t known in a while.
I found my big orange windcheater today and put it out to air. Because the air doesn’t feel so overwhelmingly heavy anymore and my rick to the station feels chilly in the night. It rains almost every morning. And my violin feels cold against my skin. And snug and comfy, under my jaw, and the sounds that come from it sound more and more like music every day. I think I will be able to really play someday soon. I really hope I will.
But until then, grey is my favourite colour, and I’ll just keep waking up 10 minutes before I need to every day and hope that it quietly rains. So I can look out from my window when I practice and pretend that this city isn’t an ugly place.