Mohawk Valley Girl

Music is magic.  I’ve known it for years.  Let me tell you how I was just reminded about it today.

I spent the day at work muddling through.  I don’t know if it was a kind of a migraine or spring allergies kicking, but I felt light-headed and nauseous all day.  Sorry to complain; just giving you the picture.  I thought I would have to take a Blogger’s Sick Day and wondered if I would make it to rehearsal for Morning’s at Seven, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre.

Eventually I got some ginger ale out of the machine, which helped the nausea.  I tried to feel thankful that it was light-headedness and not pain.  Counting one’s blessings can go a long way.  I came home and laid down for a while with my heated face mask, then had some coffee and food.

While all this was going on, I knew I had to make a blog post. Of course I did not write one while at work, muddling. Pondering what I could write, I checked my email and Facebook notifications.  I tried to forget how light-headed I was still feeling.  This was difficult, because it is not easy to hold a thought in such a light head (cue jokes about how that must often be the case for me).

As I sat here in front of a blank screen with increasing feelings of panic (I have to leave for rehearsal in less than an hour), Steven said he was going upstairs to lie down (fine wife I am; I didn’t even ask what was wrong).  I asked him to turn off the television or put it on one of the music channels.

“1945,” I suggested, picking the one I have memorized, because it is a year.  Suddenly, jazz was bouncing out of the television, and my fingers were on the keys and ready to type.

It has always been this way with me.  I remember sitting at my parents’ house, when I lived there.  I had Mom’s portable typewriter set up on the coffee table, paper rolled in, novel notes nearby, and I felt blank.  I put on a record album.  It was the soundtrack of StarWars, as I recall (it was the 1970’s).  It turns out, instrumental music is a writing trigger for me.

It is not my only trigger.  Sometimes I can write quite handily on breaks and before starting work with various factory sounds around me.  The ambient noise of a diner or bar works fine.  Sometimes the relative quiet of the library is nice.

Now I am over 400 words and I have about a half hour till I’d better leave.  So I guess this is my Tired Tuesday post.  Not a long whine about not being able to write, but a short story about how I managed to write… something.  Something good?  Well, we don’t ask for miracles on Tired Tuesday.