Driving home today I randomly got some lines from “Isis” by Bob Dylan stuck in my head. I wasn’t listening to Dylan at the time, and hadn’t heard the song in a while, but nonetheless there it was. Specifically it was the 5th verse.
I was thinkin’ about turquoise, I was thinkin’ about gold
I was thinkin’ about diamonds and the world’s biggest necklace
As we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold
I was thinkin’ about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless
It’s funny how that happens sometimes, a word or a phrase popping into your head from out of the blue. Usually for me it’s lyrics, George Carlin bits, or Simpsons quotes. That’s mostly what rattles around in my head at any given moment.
Lately though I’ve been thinking about writing.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted something on this blog, although I think about it a lot. Usually a song worms its way deep into my consciousness for a few days and I have to try and fish it out using a blank page as a lure.
The problem these days isn’t one of inspiration so much as one of time and energy. The world is a heavy place right now and it’s wearying carrying it around every day.
Despite that, this will be the biggest year ever for me and the printed word. My first novel, “The Change,” is coming out in July followed pretty quickly by my second novel (novella really,) “The Last Summer,” coming out in August. Beyond that we (Oddity Prodigy Productions) just released “Bright Mirror,” which features a story of mine, and we’re hard at work on “Where Legends Walk,” our next anthology.
It’s a lot! All of it is exciting!
And yet, in the back of my head, there’s this nagging voice that likes to remind me how long it’s been since I’ve written something here on my blog, which feels a bit like failure, or at least not prioritizing this thing that I love.
I think about it a lot. A song will come on and a few lines of a piece pop into my head and rattle around for a bit before shuffling out, never to return. When it happens, guilt sets it, like somehow I’m letting the music down. It’s a funny kind of feeling, but definitely one that pops up a lot. I’m not so arrogant to think that anyone misses my thoughts or feels let down because I didn’t write something, but that kind of logic and self-awareness doesn’t do anything for that vague, foot-shuffling, hand-wringing feeling of guilt.
There isn’t a lot of point to this post, other than I got Dylan stuck in my head, and wanted to string some words together about it instead of letting the impulse drift away in the haze of streaming services, Yankee games, and the oppressive ennui of Wednesday nights.
Maybe this will be the thing that kickstarters me a little. After all, I have so many songs I want to talk about. I never managed to write about Trapper Schoepp’s “Siren Songs” despite the cd being in my car player, for about two years now, playing me a little snippet every time I start it up. “Mountain Top” by Bedouin Soundclash has been inspiring me to call it all punk rock for a while now. I don’t think I’ve written a word about Mondo Cozmo and so many more. Heck, I don’t even think I’ve said everything I need to say about the Bosstones.
Now I’ve got Tom Petty Lyrics in my head, pushing out Dylan.
Yeah, it’s time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going
SHOUTING STREET 
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