Sometimes I feel like if I knew how to really read music and thereby learn to write some too, that I would write a song. I tried my hand at some semblance of lyrics before. I keep singing someone else’s words as if I first thought them myself because I suppose that’s easier. When I make an attempt to rhyme, I sound as juvenile as I fear I sound in my head. How do thoseĀ  songwriters—the chosen ones—do that anyway? It’s so much easier to combine color, texture, and materials than to juxtapose emotions against a melody.