It began with a thought, as he looked at the frame of his bedroom door, robe hanging, guitar in forefront. I have a good life he thought and went about to think about it more, wanting to expand upon what he discovered today.
That was, eyes glanced up and surveyed the countertop, a cathartic moment that if he could just hang onto would take him so many miles. Much like the ‘sheet of paper’ in front of him, on the MacBook, he hoped he might move forward with confidence and memory.
He just remembered sitting out on the patio, the only available chair, a high top, he talked to everyone around him, didn’t miss a soul, and wondered some more. He knew he wanted to be out there, but alas, another afternoon.
He doesn’t have to share this with anyone. All morning he has been listening to music and writing. He is rather daunted with the places he has traveled without ever leaving home. He stops to think, and understands why he hasn’t watched any tv lately, and then feels good about it.
I’m not living two lives; I am only coming to terms with the one that I am. In good terms, mind you, because all of this is fascinating, he thought to himself. Why couldn’t I keep writing and let the character come alive. Because he has.
I covered eight pages of a legal pad without really knowing I did. I would cover one page after another and find myself three quarters down the page, laughing at myself with happiness
My day has evolved into one of writing, everything going through my mind in the moment. It suddenly becomes a story and I begin to play it out in my mind. I wonder about a compliment I sent out and how it may have been received. It was meant to be uplifting. This is how deep into my psyche I dive. I am so in the immediacy of my moment; I don’t know if I have ever experienced this in a clear manner. Brushing the hair around his mouth he wonders if he is walking into another character and how to give it more life.
His heart rate settling, he decided to take a break.