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.