A lot to chew.

I'm overwhelmed.

And its my own damn fault. The creative mind is like a fly wheel. Tough to get moving, tough to slow down, nearly impossible to stop, and right now, just spinnin and spinnin and spinnin.

The first song I wrote for Castle Park was penned as a fun little ditty. Not really for anything but my own amusement. But the silly ditty ballooned into the idea of a concept album, which then ballooned into the idea of creative nakedness (ie this blog) which then ballooned into the idea of writing the entire experience as a narrative book.

So now not only do I have random ideas, but I also have random ideas about random parts of the project. Theres no focus, there's no organization, and I've spun myself into relative inaction.

What should I ponder today? Should it be a few hours banging on chords at the piano? Should it be a chapter about the day I wrote "Follow Me"? Should I listen back to my new demo and decide which parts I liked, which parts I didn't, where to add cello and more cow bell? Should I escape to the garage and jump on the computer before my wife tells me that Calvin needs a bath?

"But I just gave him a bath last night."

"He's dirty."

"Dirty from what? Playing video games? Running around the house killing bad guys with a cardboard sword? Trying to poke a straw into a juice box and then giving up after ten minutes and then insisting that I do it even after he has destroyed the straw and forcing me to poke a hole in the box with my fingernail and squeeze the fruit punch into a plastic cup? Tell me please . . . how could he possibly be dirty?"

"Don't argue with me."

"Yes, dear."

Should I tune a guitar, pick up the junk that has accumulated throughout the studio, put the headphones on and listen to other songs that I like hoping to be inspired but not plagiaristic?

Anyone of these things would do, but then there's that fly wheel again. Sit at the piano and wonder if any of the songs could use harpsichord. Tune a guitar and think that I should put up a new posting to let the world know I'm still alive.

Or make a list of all the things I'm procrastinating about and start to hammer away at them one by one until I've done everything there is to do . . . ever.

Or procrastinate about making a list.

That is . . . in fact . . . exactly what I am doing now.

I don't want to make a list just yet. It will put things in perspective, give some organization to my thought, allow me to make dramatic progress in the shortest time possible.

But I don't wanna.

and you can't make me.

I'm feeling overwhelmed

and its my own damn fault.

and I'm kinda cool with it.

for now.