I mentioned in a previous blog, “Momentum,” that I started composing every day. Here is an update on that endeavor. As of April 1, 2023 I am on day fifty of daily composing. This small bit of creativity is a priority. I wish I could say I jump in each day with joy and vigor. Well, I am joyful on some level, but it also brings hesitations, questions, and insecurities. During the week when I work at my day job, I have little energy left. Sometimes it is not physical, but rather I feel that I have used up my brain power—my ability to think clearly or creatively. One idea that has come to the forefront in my daily composing is the idea that our limitations might be our strengths.
I love taking the scenic route to and from work. The beginning and end of the route is the same as other days, but instead of traveling the main highway I turn and traverse several roads that ramble through neighborhoods.
Spring is my favorite season. It is a breath of fresh air after cold, dreary winter days. Warmer weather and more sunshine bring a feeling of newness and rebirth. Flowers begin to bloom and trees grow their leaves again—the sights and smells of spring feel magical.
Maintaining interest and momentum in artistic endeavors can be a challenge. Life gets busy. Interruptions happen. Regular daily chores take longer than expected. I find my forward progress when working on a blog, a music composition, or any other creative project is easily sidetracked or even stopped.
On my drive to and from work, I enjoy taking pictures of interesting buildings, signs, colors, bumper stickers, or anything that catches my attention. This helps me be in the moment and notice things I might otherwise miss. In a previous blog, To and From Work: Part 1, I shared pictures from my drive to work. This blog shares pictures on my way home.
I grew up in the 1960s in the South . . . in Alabama. Being a child during that decade, I could not fully understand the political or racial issues playing out around me. I heard and saw snippets on the news about Gov. George Wallace, bus boycotts, freedom marches, and segregated lunch counters. Of course, the elementary school I attended was segregated. It wasn’t until my sixth-grade year in 1968-69 that schools in our town were desegregated. There was not a huge change at my school, only a few African American children switched schools that year. The following year the entire city was redistricted which meant many students went to schools they were not expecting to attend. It did not change the school for me—however this greatly enlarged the number of students and included kids who were from other areas of town besides my own. This change included more well-to-do families as well as black families.
Driving to and from work four days a week is monotonous. I often remind myself to be in the moment and enjoy the ride. Here are ways that help me avoid boredom in the routine.
My mother probably had the most influence on how I became to be who I am. The person who shaped her was her mother, Belle Coker. When I was growing up everyone called her “Mama Coker” or simply “Mama.” And, indeed she was a mother to everyone in various ways.
. . . the professor said, “you should keep composing.” His words kept echoing in my mind. Just who was this person? What did he know? Why should his words change my life?
The PBS show Finding Your Roots spurred my interest in learning about my heritage and where I came from. My parents never talked much about their parents, grandparents, or any other relatives—I knew only a few things about my grandparents. Both grandfathers died when I was young—I barely remember meeting either of them. Several years ago, I set out to answer the question: Where did I come from? Looking for my connection to the past seemed not only interesting but important.
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