A Librarian by Any Other Name

I know, I know… I’ve not posted any songs in a week. I have, however, written songs. They’ve gotten kind of silly, though, and not really worthy of recording and posting. For example, one is called, “I Don’t Like Peas in My Paella.” You get the picture.

I was inspired by Austin Kleon’s blog post about his own COVID-19 blast of creativity – making zines. I thought it was a super idea and followed his instructions in the brief tutorial at the end of the post to make a couple of my own. I thought I’d share one, in lieu of a song.

It was Monday evening when I made them, so this one I called “Monday Motivation.” (If you’re on Twitter, you know #MondayMotivation is a popular hashtag.)

I’ve found that being creative, even in the smallest way each day, is helping me cope really well during these days. It’s also reminding me of the importance of doing so every day. I hope I keep the habit going when we return to “normal.” That would be a wonderful silver lining!

I hope everyone is doing well and I will be back with more songs soon. Promise!

Following up on last night’s post, still feeling awfully sad about what this damned virus took from the world last night. It’s taken too much – and sadly isn’t done with us yet. Blessings of peace on everyone who’s lost someone to date and for all of us and we try to get through these days. Here’s a song that I wrote for John Prine. May he rest in peace.

I don’t have a song to post tonight for my 30-day COVID-19 creativity challenge. I was working on a song. A couple, actually. Writing lines, scratching them out, this chord progression, that one, any old thing. And then I took a break to watch a documentary about Garth Brooks (because one of the lines that came to me while walking my dog this afternoon reminded me of one of his songs). And then I saw the news.

This virus is godawful. It’s wreaking havoc across the globe. And it’s surely like nothing that I’ve ever known in my lifetime – social distancing and working remotely for weeks on end. Watching as a bystander to a wholly inept federal government response, a public health system that is incomprehensible, a collective public who believes the most inane concepts and ideas, spouted by a bunch of people who are something less than human.

And then. Then. I see the news that John Prine, my John Lennon, has succumbed to this virus. It’s like the wind knocked out of me. I’ve got nothing now to sing tonight. I’ve got no more words to put on the pages. I just need a break. For a few hours. To imagine never getting the gift of the simplest/substantive song ever written, again. What he could do… no other.

If you don’t know him (like the simpleton on Twitter who blocked me after I called him out for tweeting, “Never heard of him”) please seek him out. You can adore your McCartney/Lennon, your Dylan, your Mitchell, and more. Amazing songwriters, all. But John Prine, for me, will never cross my lifetime again.

I miss him already.