Once the adventure was in getting there and the journey was the adventure. If you look at the prospect of heading to a new destination, today the journey is something to be avoided. Time not spent well. Toiling from airport terminal to terminal is as fatal as it sounds. Endless busy, noisy rooms and metal tubes of manufactured pusedo-comfort. What ever happened to the kids singing “Bingo” in the back seat of the station wagon as the miles rolled happily along?

I can mostly relate to the process being more important than the product via songwriting. And although it’s not the thing I think I do best, it is the thing I do that somehow matters the most. And although I have had a bit of a dry spell for the last couple of months, it still is a central point of my minds eye.

Writing a great song, the best song, the elusive song is such a good mark to shoot for. And once that song is birthed and lives as its own and even evolves into changed songs it certainly is a wonderful thing hold in your hand or on your ear. But I’m coming to believe that the truth of the mater is that the process of writing that song is actually the most important aspect of the song. The doing is the thing. If you follow the process you will find the heart of the song in the doing. Picking up the pen and guitar begins the journey of the song. And without taking that first step, nothing else will ever come. Be it shit or Shineola.

I’m not even sure I completely understand why I believe this concept is true, I just know in my heart that it is. I need to really chew on this for a while and come to terms with how I know this to be true. Yet I do believe in my heart of hearts that the process of creating is the point and the song is the flower that is opened. The process is the song. The writing becomes that song. The hand and string and finger and bone and wood and whistle is the song. The doing is the thing and the thing is in the doing.

I need more coffee… or maybe less.

Do you believe in fate, or predestination or whatever it’s called. Do you believe that people or events are drawn together by forces they can’t or don’t understand. That sometimes things and people happen, or are allowed to happen, that just defies logic. That sometimes all that is required is a leap of faith to fulfill that thing, that moment in time. That fate.

I know for myself the most important events in my life were always completely beyond my control. They spun like a wheel around time and places, and became the best and most of all things. Every once in a while we/I become connected to someone else despite our worst or best intentions. It’s almost like we have no control. A tight connection to the heart can only become unchained by the heart itself. Be still my beating heart. Listen for the silence. The meeting between the beats, the silence of connection.

I had a dream a few weeks ago. I dreamed of a girl/woman whom I thought I knew. With a name I have known, a heart I have yet to know, and a face I have never and always known. The dream was about the name. And this beautiful woman told me her name. Someone was speaking to my heart and I was listening to my voice but I could only hear my heart. Only the beats, not the spaces. The dream came and went. Until the next day. And someone said “I am that name.” I was lost and blinded by my own dreams in the waking hours. But now in this twilight I’m full of cheap booze and dreams. I should sleep. And maybe I’ll dream that name again to the waking hours in the dawn of my day. In the sunrise of my soul.