There's a "creative process" thing that's always confused me some. It's this whole idea that an artist needs to be somehow tormented in order to fuel creativity, that all beautiful music and painting and writing comes from pain. There have been moments, rare ones, when something terrible was happening, and I found a spark of something in it and wrote, but much of the time, the art that I create during those times is very self indulgent. It ends up being like reading a 15 year old's attempt at goth poetry... sort of amusing, pretty sad, not very high on the scale of interesting art.

I think what might be more true, for me anyway, is that a little while After harder times, when I can breathe a bit, and look Back, there's more grist for the mill. The Whispering Hour songs mostly come from that sort of time, as have most of my little stories. During crisis and darkness, my desire to create, to write or play music, or even just to sing along with cds in the car, withers, and becomes pretty much nonexistent.

I miss creating. I miss singing in the way a person can miss sex. I was singing a Lot, in april and may when a song went up recorded just about once a day. June and July have been the months of watching my husband go through strokes, and trying to learn to live with what comes after. Maybe August will be better.

I'd like to put some art here.