01/17/2026
Permission to write trash.
But not as throw-away lines.
As a doorway.
The first things that come out are rarely the thing itself.
They’re smudges. Half-phrases. Wrong notes. A feeling without a name yet.
And that messy phase is often when you get your first glimpse of the heart of the song.
The stuff that really matters usually shows up quietly –
dream-logic, emotional weather –
something from your inner world that’s still wispy enough you might miss it if you rush past.
Trying to skip this phase rarely works.
You can’t shape or polish something that hasn’t shown itself yet.
So yes – ask the Editor to step aside for a bit.
Get messy. Fingerpaint. Write the trash.
Then, at some point, the question shifts.
Okay… now what do I do with this?
That’s where craft comes in.
The part where the rational mind doesn’t compete with the muse,
but dances with it.
When structure serves what emerged in the mess
instead of forcing it into shape,
the song starts to breathe.
If you’re living in that gap between a strong inner vision and a draft that’s not there yet, that’s exactly the territory I’ll be working with in a songwriting lab I’m teaching, starting this Wednesday.
