I am finally throwing myself into my music again: writing down pieces I’ve recorded, revisiting and revising my blog---a long process since I haven’t visited it for a long time. I’m beginning to feel the music-writing urge again. I feel great when I sit at the piano and do some quick sketches.

But if I try to do extended work at the piano---say, for an hour or more--- I get so anxious that I have to get up and walk around, surf the computer, go out for a walk around the block.

At moments like this in the past, I would go out and have a smoke or two, coming back inside refreshed and ready to work until the next smoke break.

I used to smoke two packs a day, while writing some wonderful music, until 10yrs. ago, when I had a “Heart Event”. The ambulance driver said, “Congratulations, you’ve just had your last cigarette!”,( along with my sisters, who threatened to beat the crap out of me if I ever had a smoke again.)

I have had trouble composing since then. If you look at the blog you will see more sketches than symphonies.

Which brings me to the story of when I was at Cal Arts in the 70’s: I had weekly composition lessons with my mentor Hal Budd. I was so infused with Cal Arts-ism,  I usually showed up each week with 3 or 4   sketches to work on. After our session we’d usually go out and have a couple smokes. ( He smoked CAMEL STRAIGHTS ---he taught me how to spit with class.)

One lesson, I showed up with nothing.  Stunned, he asked WTF? I told him , I had been trying to quit smoking. He gazed out the window for a moment, and then said, “You know, it’s the “Tchaikovsky –Syndrome” : “You can’t write unless you know you’re terminal!”