Dry Spell

Having just heard a cover of a certain song, I just ordered a CD: first time I’ve done that in a while. Bob Dylan, World Gone Wrong. I used to have it on tape–maybe I still do (but I want the liner notes and stuff). One of the very BEST Dylan albums. I like Dylan primarily for his songwriting, but this one is all covers, reminding me that I love him for so much more. You know, soul/passion/creds. Folk and country/blues. He’s the real deal, as they say.
I haven’t been working on my own songs for some time, by the way. I find it a little disconcerting, even worrisome…alarming? Writing is so important to me and my self-identity. I guess I worry about losing myself. Why have I stopped? (This isn’t the first hiatus I’ve had, by the way) I just haven’t been feeling the urge to write–or play my guitar–or even go into my office. It’s been feeling lonely in there.
But I don’t think the loneliness of those four walls was the cause for my lack of interest in songwriting. I think I stopped writing because my office was taken away from me–by force, as it were–when my In Laws arrived a couple weeks ago. Up until then my artistic output was steady, as I recall. Even feverish. (I was working on about five songs at once, and starting a new one every week or so) When I was cut off from the location of my song-writing, I was also cut off from its source.
In fact, I am not concerned about not writing now. Not only are the next two months going to be very busy for me at work, but I have a new CD to be thinking about. It ain’t songwriting, but it is creative, and very satisfying.