Once in a while, I find myself immersed in a flurry of "storms" on the internal terrain of my life, which I often (lately) call the Isle of Ken. The previous post bears this out, and that "in spades". I'm not saying I wasn't genuinely relating how I felt. I did. But when the storms move on, as everything in Life does if you wait long enough, I am left with some cleanup and find myself reflecting and pondering the changes these strong winds bring in me.
So, Music itself is the obvious center point of the last post. And Music is, and always has been, precious to me. It gives me energy, heals me, lifts me up (♪ when I'm feelin' blue ♫) and just plain makes me happy. The typhoon that caused me to write the last post is passed. I've actually found myself getting back onstage a number of times in the past year. I also had two songs come to me; the first writing I've done in twenty years. Granted, they are simple (very simple) Blues oriented compositions, but the creation process was very cathartic. I'm now asking myself if I really want to cut off my nose to spite my face. Obviously, the answer is a definitive "No". Music wins again.
"My songs are merely dreams
That come visiting my mind
We talk a while
By a crooked stile
You're so lucky to catch a few"
(from the song 'Celeste', by Donovan-1966)
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