here comes something

Did I mention that my husband is a musician, too? That he plays bass, and that although we've been together for eleven years this week we've never played music together? Yeah. Funny thing, that. Well. Husband and I have talked a lot about how we should play together. In fact my local friend from the last post - the one I'll be playing banjo with in a couple of weeks, the one who plays drums in my favorite (currently defunct) band - wants to play some rock music with me and the man. That's been thrown around and, accordingly, avoided for nearly two years now. (No More!) And Husband has been between bands for over a year now. This is okay with him, as he has a very high-pressure, grown-up job which he loves but which nonetheless requires almost all the energy he might otherwise have to spare on loading in and out and staying up until 3, not to mention band politics. But he wants to PLAY, and yeah - we talk, he and I. He wants to play. I want to write and to play. Well. It hit me during the Week of Possibility that an excellent step for me to take toward finally manifesting outwardly my performing musician self would be to play with the musician that lives in my house, already. DUH!

Can this really be considered an insight? It's like lying on a sunny beach for hours fussing and complaining about being hot and sweaty, and then deciding with great fanfare after some fearless soul-searching that since I am a resourceful go-getter type I will go for a dip.

In any case, I finally did that today. We did that. A little dip. He was playing his bass by himself, and I said today is the friggin' day. I dragged my amp in and sat down with my guitar.

And oooh, it was yummy. Until today I had only ever plugged in at all of my two guitar lessons. But I plugged it in, I turned it up, and I started improvising on some unfamiliar power chords I may have made up on the spot. G played along on his twelve-string, a very cool and unusual instrument ideally suited with its fat, full sound for a duo arrangement with one guitar or, say, a piano. (And you know, voice.) And it started to happen! I played, noticing that my chaste scales and chord-change practice unplugged in front of TV news was actually paying off. We were making music. We were making the beginnings of a new song.

It is on my list this week to work out a melody. I will try some words, too. I am sooo excited. I don't want to overtax Mr. Big Brain-Biggy Pants-Big Job during the week (daddy needs to play his medicinal video games after supper), but next weekend we can really begin to work something out. Not to count any as yet egg-bound chickens. But at least I know there is something fetching, something juicy and tantalizing to begin to pursue creatively beyond coloring mandalas over the next several days. Yee-haw.