I am writing this from a convent.
It is the location of a personal writing retreat I have been on for the last two plus days.
To retreat is to withdraw or pull back. Sometimes it is from conflict, other times from society or even ourselves.
A retreat at a convent is, as you might imagine, a unique experience. There are only a dozen or so guests here at this vast property.
Last Wednesday night, sitting in the dugout waiting for our softball game to begin, the umpire yelled towards us – presumably continuing a conversation started with one of my teammates about politics.
“My sister is a libtard out West. I don’t even talk to her anymore. She lives in Oregon and I hope she stays out there.”
The hostility and apparent sense of self-satisfaction with his words was jarring.
When I was younger I looked forward to new album releases from my favorite artists. With money earned from working on farms or in fast food restaurants, I would go to the store and buy the album, cassette or CD – depending on the preferred audio medium of the day. Returning home, I would listen to the album from start to finish while reading the lyrics in the liner notes.…
A little boy in second grade raised his hand presumably to ask a question. Instead he made a pretty profound statement.
“When I get bored, I like to write poetry or short stories. Sometimes, I’ll draw pictures next to them. Thank you.”
The event was a school reading of America Gives Thanks in Charlotte. The teachers were astonished that this specific boy made this specific comment.…
Emerson once wrote that ‘In every work of genius, we recognize our own rejected thoughts; they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty.”
With this definition in mind, songwriters are a particular type of genius creators. With a melody and relatively few words (usually between 100-300), the best have a rare ability to sing to us as if the words were moving from our own minds to mouths.…
