Writer’s Block: A Notebook’s Perspective

Over the past few weeks Louie has been carrying me around everywhere and I’ve been enjoying the ride! We go from the bedroom to the kitchen where he pours his morning coffee then outside to the porch swing. Together we watch the world awaken. The fountains gurgle, birds jockey for position at the feeder and the fog is a comforting blanket over everything. I gotta tell ya it’s pretty damn peaceful. When he finishes his coffee inside we go and up the stairs to the guest room/office. Louie sets me on top of his desk, lays my companion Pen beside me…and down the stairs he goes. Uh, hello, haven’t you forgotten to do something? Pen and I are left alone to watch the shadows move across the room.

Later when I hear Louie coming back up the stairs I’m filled with hope over the possibility of another ride or maybe even having my pages opened and aired out a bit. But alas, he passes me by with nary a glance and reaches for his guitar. I want to shout out, “I’m here and so is Pen, together we can record your every thought, your deepest desires, your wildest fantasies, musings of every type. We’re ready, willing and able…use us! The music flows and it’s beautiful but how I long to once again be part of that magical process where words meet melody and a song is born. Then just like that, the music’s over and Louie is gone. Lately that’s just how it’s been.

Simply stated I need to feel useful, to have my pages filled with poems, stories and songs. The scratching of pen on paper and the blue rivers of ink flowing are sensations that I anticipate every day. A guitar is just an inanimate object until a musician brings it to life and so it goes for me until  I become a vehicle for the recording of Louie’s imagination. No one likes being neglected.

A few weeks ago Louie took me to Hawaii. Let me tell you that was one hell of a trip! Tucked securely into his daypack we went from the Uber to the airport to the plane, what a whirlwind! For two weeks I felt the Maui sunshine on my cover and the trade winds rustle through my pages. I saw the Monet palette of colors at sunset and basked in the warmth and promise of the sunrise. If there’s ever been a place where writers go for inspiration, Hawaii is it! Mangoes and sea turtles, breeching whales and long walks on golden sand beaches, these are softballs, pitches right down the middle of the plate just waiting to be knocked out of the park. I couldn’t figure out why my pages for the most part remained blank. I’d whisper to Louie, A journey begins with one step and so it goes with a story. One word is all it takes, c’mon get going! In fairness to him, he did open me up a few times but all he could manage were a couple of poems and the promising start to an essay. You watch the moon, pregnant and yellow, set into the Pacific at 5:30am while the eastern sky begins to lighten with pastel pinks and blues over Haleakala, the dormant volcano that looms over all of Maui and all you can come up with is half a page? You’re losing your touch kid! On the plane ride home Louie didn’t even bother to bring me onboard. I spent the entire flight inside his suitcase, deep inside the plane’s cargo bay!

So here we are back at home. Up the stairs, down the stairs, outside, inside, into the daypack, onto the desk. Louie has begun to flow back into his usual routine while dust particles have begun to settle on my cover.

Well, he tried to write about this!