There’s no particular person, place or thing I look to for inspiration. For me inspiration comes on it’s own schedule, so I’ve learned not to look for it. And it often comes when I don’t want it to, like at 4am when I’m finally trying to get some sleep after pulling my hair out trying to find it!
I’m lucky to say that every job I’ve had has been related to music, although there were (and always are) some rough gigs along the way.
Maybe I’d open a little Italian restaurant somewhere and cook. I like to cook.
Is that what I decided? Maybe I will open that restaurant.
I guess I’d stop to relieve myself of the lonely, all consuming, nagging, draining process that is often writing. But then I’d also lose the indescribable high of having written, which certainly outweighs the rest. So I don’t think I’ll ever stop.
Bonus Question: How do you measure, measure a year?
With a calendar.