Don’t you love it when you’ve parallel parked and the cars in front and behind you have each left your car two inches to maneuver? Saw a man assessing that as he arrived at his car today, and felt his frustration.
Still as watching stone
I sniff and listen for sound
with my whiskers splayed
Chug, chug. My muse is a dependable locomotive engine this week. I sit down, and the words and scenes chug out. It’s not wholly effortless. I hit some grades that slow the pace but the muse keeps chugging, and I keep going. Writing-like-crazy bursts are followed by introspective editing and revising to get to the point where scenes and chapters are completed, and then I go on to the next one.
Once upon a time, I would have thought, hey, it’s written, revised, edited, and finished. Submit and publish, thank you. Now I’ve learned, naw, that writing, editing, refining, and polishing is part of my writing process to achieve completing a first draft. When the draft is done, the work of editing, revising, and re-writing begins. I usually find kinks caused by story or character inconsistencies, flimsy story-telling, or awkward phrasing that requires thought and deeper processing. Sometimes I find a bridge missing that I’ve marked to write later.
But I’ve learned from editing and revising in the past, and I’m more mindful of my process. I can think through the process, story, and words on the fly more than I used to be able to do, a result that comes from application, application, application, via writing every day. It’s all part of a immersive, relaxing process. Writing is my therapy and sanctuary.
Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
This song, “Ramblin’ Man”, was recorded a year after Duane Allman died. I was a big Allman Brothers Band fan when he died after a massive motorcycle accident. “Live at the Fillmore East,” released on July of 1971, was one of my recurring go-to albums. A month after “Ramblin’ Man” was recorded, Berry Oakley, Duane’s friend and the group’s bassist, died in a motorcycle accident a few blocks from where Duane had his accident.
Dicky Betts sang “Ramblin’ Man,” which explained a lot for me. When I first heard it, I thought, boy, Gregg’s vocals sound a lot different on this. That song, though, captured the uplifting, rambunctious, rambling spirit I often felt while I was traveling. The pace feels faster with the song’s guitar solos, and the notes make me feel like I’m soaring on a wind.
It’s a memorable song, and has been used in many movies and venues. Here they are, the Allman Brothers Band with “Ramblin’ Man” from 1973, my junior year in high school.
Floofwind (catfinition) – a powerful, localized wind caused when one or more cats and kittens gallop, scamper, dash, sprint, and race around.
In use: “The kittens took off, energizing the elders, and a floofwind quickly engulfed the living room, sending things flying off tables and into the air.”