One of my greatest regrets is that I cannot write while I listen to music. I need my quiet. There is no such thing as background noise for me. The music rushes to the forefront of my consciousness, demanding attention, and I can no longer hear the words I’m forever trying to grasp. Sentences swim in front of me but I am unable to read them or hear them in my head. (The clamor of my children is not so bad. Over time I have learned to tune that out.)
Here’s a great post about why silence really may be golden.
Anyway, this picture seemed like an appropriate candidate for the distractions and prevarications series. While I am writing there is a perpetual conflict between the need to write and the desire to listen to music. The CDs are like sirens, crooning their beguiling song. I keep tapping away and do my best to ignore them. Usually I succeed. Sometimes I don’t.