Creative Time

It’s been a while since I posted here.  A bigger picture symptom of feeling not too creative and lacking the creative space, figuratively, and literally. But I find myself with the inspiration–finally!–to at least blog again, despite few songs written and little creative output.  This has happened a few times before but it’s always a little scary to not be able to sit down and write a song.  The problem the past few months is I’ve made little time even to do so.

Back in September, I was asked to move to Aruba for the month of October to help produce an event. At first I wasn’t into going away for a whole month, even to an island as enticing as Aruba seemed. But friends with whom I consulted all responded with a collective, “Why NOT??!!” and I couldn’t think of a reason.  I thought about how, while I’d be working, I’d also be in a new and beautiful setting by myself, and how I could maybe work on lyrics and find new inspiration. And I thought it was just a unique opportunity that doesn’t come along often.  Oh, yes, and money is nice!

As it turned out, my time in Aruba was not creative at all. I worked a lot and came home at night to a setting, attitude, mix of element that just didn’t beckon to my creativity.  I tried a few lyrics here and there but nothing outstanding ensued. Timed halfway between my arrival and my departure, when I thought work wouldn’t be too crazy, Matt came down to visit for a few days.  He was instructed to bring a certain test kit along and when he arrived on the island, I unpacked the boxes and put them on the dresser. I wasn’t ready.  The next day, I mustered up my readiness and did the requisite pee on a stick test.   Because I thought these were wonky (the strips change but change again), we celebrated but I kind of brushed it off too.  I still felt like I needed official proof which would have to wait 2 more weeks until my return to the US, when I could see my real doctor.  I just spent the last 2 weeks there, drinking less than I normally do anyway (I probably had 2 glasses of champagne).  Then came the nausea anyway. And work got busy as the events I was there to produce were coming up.

I came back to the US in time to vote, and went from the voting booth right to the doctor’s office, where it was confirmed.  6 weeks pregnant.

What followed was a whirlwind of emotion amidst trying to find a new doctor (OB) as my doctor informed me she no longer delivered babies.   Finding a new one proved exceptionally challenging…yes, in NYC, it is actually difficult to find a good OB.  They were either booked up or wouldn’t take my insurance.

So my November was a mix of dragging myself to my studio where I slogged through one of the songs I was writing, tried to return to some other recording I had done earlier that year, and napped a lot; feeling queasy; and trying to find a doctor.

What with emotions and hormones, I thought this might be a very creative time.  Alas, it is now the first week of May, six weeks from my due date.

The good news is I’ve been playing the guitalele a lot this past month.  And I really want to talk about all this…stuff. So…more to come sooner than this last stretch in posts.