April 1st and I'm chilled to the ...well, not the bone - it's not that severe - but whatever, I feel like I've been bullied by winter for far too long. Still, it's been nice hearing the birds talk and sing in the morning. They've been the scouts of warmer weather.
I know I've mentioned here before that writing lyrics hardly comes easy to me. If it was a fraction as easy as writing music, I'd be overjoyed like a puppy in a room full of tennis balls. Since it's the lyrics that slow the process down, there is self-imposed pressure to produce them much quicker. The thing is, you can force a hen to do a lot of things but you can't force it to lay eggs on command. Creativity needs to be treated gently, to be nurtured like a child.
To that end, I've decided to approach lyric writing a bit differently because I've been slumping like a boss and the the child I'm trying to coax results from is crumpled bug-eyed in the corner too terrified to do anything. So the idea is to sit down with pen and paper with no expectations and just write. Get the train choo-chooing. There's a great scene in Finding Neverland in which a producer reminds a sullen JM Barrie that there's a reason why they call it a play. So let's play, dammit! The key component to success will be consistency. I've got to work the creative muscle on a regular basis. I started last evening and I'll do so again tonight.
Well, it's been real, but I'm going to keep things brief and utilize the remainder of the evening as best I can.
G'night, children.
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