Gloryfades.org

It seems I can’t resist the call of my own blog. Each time I try to distance myself from it I find myself yearning to go back and start writing again. I never though of myself as a writer. Most people will agree. Still, I’ve had this thing for so long it seems as though I’ll never be rid of it. It feels different this time, though. Who knows, maybe it will stick?

I have been thinking a lot about creativity these past few days. I wouldn’t say I’m the most creative Jenny on the block but I think I can carry a tune. When I was a little girl I used to make up full-length operas in my backyard. All of the neighbors knew who I was because I’d sing at the top of my lungs all afternoon. In retrospect, I’m surprised that no one complained to my parents or called the cops. I was a pretty loud kid.

Those operas were a lot of fun to do, as I recall. They were mostly a jumble of stream of conscious words mixed together. Sometimes I would actually get a good hook and I work on it, building upon it until I had some sort of story to go along with my nonsensical songs. Sadly, the only song I remember singing now is The Flintstones theme song as sung by Homer Simpson. I sang that song loud and proud. I even made a dance to go along with it!

These days I haven’t done a lot of singing outside of my own car. I suppose my commute has become my backyard. I don’t so much improvise lyrics anymore as I do harmonies to the various songs that I play ad nauseam on Alphonse. It’s a shame that I don’t play around with songs as much as I did when I was a kid. I guess I’m sort of feeling nostalgic.

I want to go back to those days when I could spend an afternoon just creating stories off of the top of my head. It’s harder these days. There’s so many other things that take up room that it feels almost like there’s no time for imagination anymore. Where did the days when I daydreamed for hours go?