Creating

When I get busy or preoccupied with other things I don't create. I've recently tried to start doing something creative as daily as possible. I've been writing some music--(for those of you who don't know I used to  be incredibly involved in music in high school and well before that (starting piano at age 7 and adding instruments and voice lessons since then))--and that's pretty fun. I've rediscovered that I actually have a half-way decent voice so that's exciting! And I can record my voice and piano skillz on my iPod!

But today I'd like to post something I wrote last fall. I don't know what you'd call it. Some sort of short creative non-fiction I suppose. Alyssa?? In any case, I couldn't sleep and decided to look out my window. It was 2:00am. My roommate was over at her BF's and I was cold.

OBSERVATIONS FROM MY WINDO OVERLOOKING THE IOWA RIVER

I'm not the first aspiring writer to view the space here, nor am I the best. I watch as hundreds of blackbirds (Black Beard) take wing, fly over the river, and land again at the very top branches of the barren trees, transforming their bony limbs into branches of great leaves sillouetted against the river and the buildings with their tiny lights. 

I realize I'm also not the first to sing to the birds outside my window as I sit trapped inside with myself. A damsel in distress with nothing to be distressed about. I look across the river towards the hospital. I see lights on in a few of the rooms. Not only are the occupants of those rooms trapped in their rooms, they are trapped in their bodies. They're the real ones in distress. 

I see a distant stoplight change and cars drive by. The helipad search light--I think that's what it is--flashes orange-yellow-green. And other red lights blink on and off in asynchratic and always-changing rhythms. I see a cathedral from way back when placed on top of a much newer building. A never building. I wish I knew more about this place.