(no subject)
Jul. 10th, 2003 02:08 amSitting by a duck pond in Golden Gate Park, I broke a worrisome week of, well, not writer's block, but not writing--distracted by other things. For an hour or so, I alternated between writing down lines in my notepad and reading the final chapter of a book (Nickel and Dimed, but don't worry--I didn't write any songs about poverty), and occasionally looking up at mallards or passersby. I got three verses out of the session--for three different songs, including a new one which leaves me with one more unfinished song than before.
After a while I went back to the car to pick up my guitar and try them out, but , in the middle of this mid-July afternoon, it was, I decided, somehow too cold to play. San Francisco is weird.
After a while I went back to the car to pick up my guitar and try them out, but , in the middle of this mid-July afternoon, it was, I decided, somehow too cold to play. San Francisco is weird.