Monday Morning
Monday, May 12, 2008 --  12:01pm
Posted by Bar


Good morning everybody,

I've had an urge to write you all but don't have much to say.  Thought 
I'd write anyway just to say hello.  

My writing is coming along.  Sometimes I feel like it will never end and 
I'll never get back to music again (it's hard to create both at the same 
time.  Shorts my brain out somehow.  Creativity overload is what you 
might call it!) Sometimes I become so focused that I don't want anything 
else to interfere.  That's the mode I am in now.  It's very strange for 
me to feel like music is the thing that threatens to interfere in my 
life.  I miss composing, but it just feels like too much to try and get 
serious about writing new music when so much of my energy is required to 
tell the stories I want to tell in my book.  It may be that I'm getting 
towards the end of writing finally.  I've learned already, though, that 
when I get to the end, there's twice as much more work still to do.  I 
had one piece that a copy editor took a look at.  She liked it so much 
that she suggested that I prepare it for submission to a couple of 
magazines.  In order to make it right for a magazine, I had to re-write 
various sections of the story so that it would stand on its own.  
Re-writes are HARD.  They upset the rhythm and they jam up my mind, and 
I KNOW that there are a billion re-writes in my future when it comes 
time to edit this book.  The thought of it makes me want to crawl under 
the covers and hide!!  I'm trying to take one step at a time, but jeez, 
this is hard work.  I have an increasingly deep admiration for the 
multitude of writers who have come before me.  

This past weekend was hard.  I never thought too much about Mother's Day 
when I was growing up.  I love my mom as much as anyone loves their mom, 
but our family didn't have a habit of celebrating in any big sort of 
way.  However, it's hard to get away from all of the publicity that 
mother's day comes with these days.  I found myself to be low and quiet 
for the last few days.  Sunday morning, Peter and a couple of friends 
and I got up at 5am to take a pre-dawn bird watching trip.  It was a 
wonderful way to start the day, and we saw lots of spectacular birds.  
Later in the day, Peter took me out for lunch.  We stopped into the 
local deli on the town green in Woodstock.  Our thought was to get a 
sandwich to-go and then sit in the center of town and watch the people 
go by.  It was a glorious day, but my spirit was tender.  When we 
ordered our sandwiches, I realized that I knew the teenager behind the 
counter who was serving us.  He didn't recognize me because it had been 
5 or 6 years since he'd seen me.  When he'd met me back then, it was 
because his dad was inspired to create a garden in honor of Forrest.  He 
wanted the garden to be tended to and designed by children, including 
his son who was making my sandwich all these years later.  When I told 
him I was Bar, and that we had met a few years back, his first response 
was "Happy Mother's Day, Bar".  Except for Peter, he was the first to 
say it, and I was deeply grateful.  This guy is 17 now.  He's got a ring 
in his lower lip and a boss who was asking him to work faster, and yet 
he thought to wish me well knowing that Forrest is gone.  This kind of 
thing moves me deeply.  It gives me hope and reminds me of just how 
great life is.  I spent the rest of the day reading quietly at home.  I 
had trouble doing much else.  I find that on the days when I can't 
understand why my heart is heavy, that I have to just let it be.  Trying 
to understand or trying to change it just prolongs the sadness, I think.  

Today it is cold and blustery.  I've turned the heat back on.  I wanted 
to avoid it to save a little energy for the planet, but alas, it's just 
too uncomfortable.  

Have a good week.  I hope that it's productive and satisfying.  

Love,
Bar