Last October I wrote a post called Balancing Girl, Interrupted. The piece was about the funny relationship between creativity and parenthood. On one hand, kids inspire a steady stream of ideas. On the other hand, the nature of parenthood makes it difficult to get projects done. As someone whose profession involves creativity, I wrestle with this conundrum. But I’m working on it. The writer Anne Lamott offers a helpful approach in her book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. To hand-wringing creatives, she says: all you have to do is a “shitty first draft.” Well I can do that. I can do something shitty. And feel happy, almost giddy, doing it. Like a child.
At the end of the post about creativity, I attached a song fragment. It was a refrain my daughter inspired as she balanced on my legs after dinner. The song came back to me the other night as I stepped onto our back porch. It was twilight, and I’d just finished putting the children to bed. Dozens of lightening bugs animated our back yard while songbirds serenaded them. I set my camera on a ledge and made an imperfect video. Then I wrote a couple of imperfect verses, and recorded an imperfect demo. I put them all together just as they were. A perfect exercise for a recovering perfectionist.
If anyone wants to contribute a track to this song, send to whitney.morrill@gmail.com. We’ll make it a potluck.
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