Morning Friend,
There’s a saying in the roofing business – “We’re not building pianos here!”.
I can’t say for sure the saying is exclusive to the “soffit/fascia crowd” or if my buddy Rudy of All-City Exteriors stole the quip from another tradesman in the rough-hewn arena of home construction/renovation.
Whatever its’ origins, the saying reflects the diverse nature of life and life’s work.
Some of it is rough; crude and basic -”bull work” at times – requiring little or no subtlety of thought or action.
With all due respect to the craftsmanship and skill of roofers, builders and demolishers everywhere, there are those on the other end of the spectrum of life’s workers who require considerably more ability of a concise and artistic nature; like piano makers...and writers.
A sixteenth of an inch might be “wiggle room” to a shingler, but it is like the Grand Canyon in a Grand piano factory.
And in the factory of my literary mind, there are some exacting requirements you won’t find on a construction site.
As I’ve recently discovered during what has been a prolonged absence from this forum, I desperately need an element of serenity and stability in my life and home in order to “manufacture pianos”.
Since we last spoke, there has been much in the way of turmoil and distraction here at the old Tomato Farm which spawned “Monday Musings” and which I call home.
My extended hiatus has not been a case of writer’s block, fatigue, burnout or ( heaven forbid!) a drunken relapse.
Nor has it been the result of any personal or family crises – any of which I’d certainly put to use as rich and inspiring fodder.
As it turns out my friend, the unexpected houseguests that circumstance has brought into my home these past months have revealed some pre-requisites heretofore unbeknownst to me with regard to my creative process; first and foremost of those being, solitude.
As grandly gregarious a soul as I am blessed to be – a veritable People Person’s Person! – it seems my left brain does not function while the rest of it is processing the functions of other humans; on the couch, in my bed, on the floor, coming and going, sleeping and snoring, loud or boring, obtrusive or trying too hard not to be, phoning home, home shopping, home improving, making themselves at home and just general all-round being in my home.
I’m not an eccentric or anti-social, in fact I believe I am HYPER-SOCIAL – I cannot help but be “aware” that someone else, a guest is present and therefore I must “host”, or be somehow “hostful”?....anything but lost in the creative trance that writing provokes.
*My “winter roommate” and best friend Jimmy does not count for he is some sort of supernatural being who is “there” without being there....a “cough without a face” you might say...( a topic for another day? )
From this important fact about myself I can draw several conclusions.
- I’ve no use for a portable laptop other than as a backup to my HOME computer
- I’d make a strange and “difficult” husband
- I need to learn how to say “no” to houseguests ( Sunday nights at any rate! )
- I might have made a better roofer than a writer?
I’ve not been able to write much of anything short of grocery lists lately and if I’m disgustingly late in even replying to your emails I hope you’ll consider this explanation as a humble apology.
It is actually only late last week that I found myself at long last Home Alone.
From past efforts I’ve tried to express through words how truly delighted I am with life and to share the lessons and wonder that I’ve been blessed with.
The “work” of writing ( however “rough crude and unsubtle” mine may be) really is a sacred thing to me made all the more special by the knowledge that it is read by and affects others....even if they’re not welcome during “construction”.
After all, I AM “building pianos”!
Love tImMy:/
Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( under a good roof!)
