Vivid Memories

I just had a memory.

It's of a time when I was sitting in my room, in my favourite town, in my favourite country. I was listening to my favourite film score; which was never released officially but the composer gave me a sneaky copy.  It's probably the thing I listen to more than anything.

I sat there listening to my favourite music in the world looking out on the greatest city in the world -- and I wrote. And wrote, and wrote. Sometimes the music gets right inside of you; it becomes a part of you, and you feel completely at one with the world. I got a phone call from a journalist who was doing a piece on me. Usually those things can make me nervous - what if I say something stupid? But it went perfectly, because I was just so so so in the right frame of everything.

I don't know how it happens. Maybe it's part of your DNA or maybe it's because of some TV show you saw when you were young -- but we all have a spiritual home. A place where we feel ourselves. A place where the writing flows and everything aligns perfectly.

I am excited by the fact that: I'll be going back there soon.

And even if I wasn't, I could close my eyes and listen to this beautiful track. I wish I could write a script that sounds like this music - I wish I could capture me as well as this music does. For now, all I can do, is dream of getting back to my home away from home.

Care to share?

Tweet