Experience taught me that it is dangerous to write Music and cook. Here’s why…
Boiled eggs explode. Pans left on the stove bellow smoke into the entire kitchen. Once the curtains caught fire and flared. Rice burns and I smoke more when writing Music. Mostly because I am having conversations with myself as I pace. “Of course that’s what would happen, you fool!” Sometimes in a muddled Russian accent to amuse myself. Worse people to ask for help with lyrics: my daughter. She is way too funny. Best person: my nephew. His mind is as dirty as mine. Daddy thought too much and tried too hard. My Mother just wants me to pen Music where I expose corrupt politicians and the new world order. Now that lady is intense!
I am working on: not transforming into a damsel in distress when I get lost driving. I have been escorted by cops to various places simply because I was a complete mess. In full blown panic mode. I hate being late – for anything. I would like to own maps instead. Everything is checked a few times before leaving home. I listen to podcasts and audiobooks while driving as it is calming. Shoooo….
You’re in trouble if you take me to the following places: a second hand bookshop or any gay club. In the club I am jotting furiously in my notebook as someone will invariably confess their life story. This happens all the time. It is also a well known fact: I am a damn awesome wing woman! Thats why my boys drag me along. They get lucky and I collect words that become Music.
It’s a win win scenario. Tell me, honestly, would you leave a second hand bookshop when the titles of books alone inspire Music? Now imagine rooms and rooms of books. Books on the floor. Stacked to the ceiling. My mind is on the brink of either exploding or orgasm. Same thing inninit?
I dig hanging around…Academics. Painters. Mechanics. Scandalous boys. Articulate men. Dreamers. Intutitives. Dancers. Great cooks. Stylish dressers. People who smell delicious. Trees. Cats. The beach. Any desert. Libraries. Old churches. Museums. Galleries. Nature reserves. Peppermint chocolates, biltong and rum are a great combo. And my comfort food is – any curry with vetkoek or roti. If it’s your birthday and I love you expect….a baked chocolate cake (my speciality), inappropriate card, terrible singing, home made Turkish delights (if I have time) or a lemon meringue pie. My daughter claims hers tastes better than mine. Probably…
I would like to see as much of the world with people I love. The kinds of people that dont mind that I can strike up a conversation with anyone. Anywhere. Like my Mother. Yet I need to be left alone to make Music. Perhaps simply wonder off and read under a tree in an obscure place. Of course I will return….as to when….
