Well, you know how I do. I write some music and then I get all excited by the fact that I’ve written some music and then I post it to the interwebs and it’s all rough around the edges and what not. But what the heck. I’ll clean it up later.
So here it is fresh from Studio G, aka my apartment. It’s really short — 1:47. Any shorter and it would be a musical Haiku.
Wow it’s late. Two quick things. Oy. My grapefruit infused tea is kind of bitter. Next time I’ll just put some rind shavings in the steamer area. That doesn’t count as one of the two things.
1. I asked Michelle Amador a few weeks ago how she deals with writer’s block because I’ve been having a hard time getting back into the swing of things, musically speaking and no pun intended. Her answer, stated much more eloquently than my interpretation of “There is no spoon.”
2. On the metro this morning there was a family with two little boys. Cute kids. One of them looked at me funny and then pointed and said, “Coooool!”
His father chided him. I was trying to figure out what was so cool about me when I remembered that I was wearing my Batman cap, which is actually pretty cool. He had on an Incredible Hulk shirt. His slightly older, calm, still, well behaved brother had on a Transformers Bumblebee T-shirt. And believe you me, their personalities fit their gear.
The little rambunctious one in the Hulk shirt protested being picked up and held by his mother by trying to head butt her in the face with the back of his head. And then I could have sworn he was going for her earrings with those little tuggy fingers. She was wise to the game, though.
I don’t know what his deal was, but here’s why I’m mentioning this. The power of language. The poetry of language. As they were getting off the train, the little Hulk boy asked his mother something and she said, “Nope”.
I mean, he was being bratty and was generally misbehaving so no way, right.
He stood there and his little face scrunched up and he started to cry. That just past toddler age I can’t have what I want cry. That blow of disappointment. How could this be? My world has ended. No?! No ice cream?!
And the little boy said, “‘No’ to you, Mommy!”
And it was that bit of rebellion that kicked my brain into gear this morning. “No” as a curse. And how I got my flow back a little tonight for this song:
She will flutter by
She will slip away again
She will beat her wings
And half a world away
Will spawn a hurricane in me