As anyone who knows me knows, music is one of my driving passions. It inspires everything from my workouts to my work. Quite a few of my myriad projects sprang from a genesis that included a song. In fact, three of the four writing projects I’m currently developing have deep musical ties.
I had dinner the other night with my friend Corina, whom I hadn’t seen in 10 years. Ours is one of those relationships, though, that is not affected by time. We picked right up, and laughed and laughed. Neither of us even missed a beat in our heckling of Mel Gibson as we walked across the street in front of his stopped car. Good times.
I once heard an interview with Leonard Cohen on CBC radio. He was talking about his collection of poetry entitled Book of Longing, so the interviewer asked him what he longed for. His answer: “I’ve exhausted my longing.”
Man, that sent my head reeling. My first thought was of God, that deep, achy yearning for union with the Divine. How can that ever be exhausted unless it is achieved? Then I thought maybe Leonard isn’t so much a mad lover of God as I am. Maybe he doesn’t crave connection with Spirit or seek Love with a capital L.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been enraptured by a distinct autumnal feeling. A very specific chill in the breeze gave rise to it after several months of gloomy, overcast weather. To top it off, last night I got the smell of a fireplace in my nose – the neighbors had a pit burning in the backyard.