Last night I attended a poetry and short stories reading at a local bar. My friend, a poet, was doing a reading. I haven't been to many of these things. I'm always fearful of being forced to sit and listen to people who take themselves way too seriously or ranting women cursing out ex-boyfriends. But last night was entertaining. The readers were mostly humorous.
What happens after I attend anything like this, an evening watching talented people express themselves either with words or music, is that I begin to feel very inspired and just want to run home and write, pick up the guitar, sing, turn on Garage Band and start creating. I go to bed with words and rhymes and verses running through my head. I begin to feel like I should be doing something like this or with this. I do believe I have a creative talent in me somewhere. I'm just not sure how to harness it.
I've been told repeatedly that I am a good writer (not that this blog is any indication of that). Usually, when told this, the person appears suprised.
But, I don't want to be a writer. I'm more into poetry and lyrics. I would love to be a little folksinger who plays at little bars every once in a while. I, in no way, would ever want it to be how I make a living. I don't strive for the spotlight. But I just think it would be a fun thing to do on the side. A hobby. A creative outlet.
But I am too shy and musically, not quite there. I can play guitar just fine. Well enough to hold my own, alone. But my voice is not up to par. I can sing. I can sing well. But not consistently. I don't have a lot of control over my voice. Some days I sound quite lovely, and the next like horseshit.
I do think I need to stick with writing and stick with this blog. It's been nice to come in every morning and just babble on to no one and everyone.
Like I'm on my very own stage.
No comments:
Post a Comment