So I had a bit of a mishap yesterday. My right hand is currently all bandaged up from a dish-washing accident, and I only have one other thing to say directly about the “how” of it: NEVER clean the inside of a glass with just a sponge. I certainly will never do that again. Just spend the few bucks and go get one of those wand things.
But the rest of this particular blog entry isn’t about that. More specifically, it’s about NOT that.
Yesterday morning, I had come full circle with a batch of songs I was working on. They are all tied up in a bow and ready for the next phase, and I couldn’t be more excited about them. Of course, I immediately started to panic in my mind. I need more songs! So I sat down with a pen and paper, and started making a shopping list of sorts. I need to cover some pretty specific ground with the next batch, and so I started outlining what I needed to sing about, along with some very vague ideas about tempos, moods, how to fit them into what already exists. Then I promptly put the notebook down, walked away, and forgot all about it. I never really write like that, so I thought it was just a way of distracting myself while making myself feel like I was doing something constructive.
Not ten minutes later, I’m writing a new song out of thin air. Completely new idea, fits right in, but still just in my head. Now cut to later that day, when my hand is all bandaged up and all I can think is, gee, I was really enjoying playing guitar all the time and writing so much. Not to mention all of the other normal things that you take for granted until you can’t do them.
My right thumb suffered the worst damage, so it’s totally wrapped up in gauze and tape like a mummy. After the day was done last night, I sat down and picked up my guitar. I’d already found that I could kind of type and negotiate the mouse on my computer, but I just needed to see what I could do, if anything. I threw my left hand onto the fretboard someplace I’d never really been, and just started moving my mummy thumb up and down across the strings. It was one of the spookiest sounds I’ve ever heard, and it fit perfectly with the lyrics I got earlier in the day before my hand got sliced up.
I set a timer for ten minutes this morning, and put a rough idea together for the rest of the music—even got a great working title. Now all I have to do is figure out how to make a version of my thumb sarcophagus that I can actually use when I play this song. Even if I’m lumbering forward like Boris Karloff, it seems like nothing is going to stop this unstoppable force that is happening right now. Which is fantastic news to the completely movable me.