For whatever reason I haven’t picked up my guitar in maybe a year or more. For some years I’d played for hours a day, but these last few… I’m not sure where that inertia has gone. What was driving it? Is it that these years of marriage have eased the loneliness that drove me to that musical impulse? Lately I’ve wanted to pick up things I’d put aside for some time.
Something about that red-bellied woodpecker’s call had stopped me during our walk. Reading Bruce Wilshire’s book has me attuned to new frequencies I guess.