From the days when I began writing at about 12, I've always played music while I write. When the Muse takes earned time, like tonight, it's music alone. A wealth of music awaits following the birthday past thanks to Strider, Jim and others who wish to remain nameless. And I broke down and bought Pictures at an Exhibition and ELP at Montreux for a beggar's price from Amazon. Strider burned 60 cds for me while she was here; the collection of 70s rock is 6 discs which range from the silly to the sublime. Just like the 70s were in real life. I can't help but grin when I hear Frampton and Skynyrd, remembering summer nights on Shore Road getting high with friends, all of us young and free, before life became serious and the police state happened.
Without the Muse I can't go anywhere writing, so I'm just gonna turn up the music and sink back into this old armchair. Go find a musical feast today. Feed your spirit.
An Alarming Situation.
16 hours ago