Day 60
I’m here in my bed blinking the sleep from my eyes and tapping away at my phone on virtual keys in an attempt to complete my 60th diary entry of this lockdown diary. It’s not only my eyes that are heavy, it feels like I’m cold pressing each individual character when in reality I’m simply tapping on a screen in what would appear a random pattern except the lower part of my screen is laid out as a qwerty keyboard.
I relayed to a friend that I feel my writing has become more fluent and natural in what she described as muscle memory. I’m seeing that in various aspects of my creativity. When I first began playing guitar my desire was to reproduce the sounds that John Denver, Don Maclean and Paul Simon produced in their finger picking styles. I spent 5 hours one morning (having got up at 5am) listening to Vincent on a record player. I copied it note by note, repeatedly lifting and dropping the stylus on the 45 disc and then finding the note on my guitar’s fretboard.
I’m stumbling into ordered schedules, ticking them off with little sense of satisfaction, just gratitude that the list isn’t endless
I’d taught myself how to play it, not properly understanding the technique and coming up with a style far more complicated than was necessary. I’d not seen him playing it so could only guess the fingering. I repeated this operation for…
