ObscuraJournal 5/27/26

My writing sabbatical is hopefully coming to end soon. I'm getting that itch that can only be scratched by typing words on the keyboard. The very act of writing this blog feels really fucking good.

I'm too obsessed with the dark fantasy idea of a record store and the young man who inherits it from his uncle. An uncle who might have some secrets about another world just beyond ours. I like the idea of a record store that caters to jazz and prog rock vinyl, and all that falls in between like fusion and folk music ... general psychedelia.

Psychedelic Doom, baby.

I think that's the one I'm going to write. I kinda don't want to write a lot of notes for this one. I should, and I probably will have general stuff like names, ages, descriptions, a layout of the store, etc.. But I feel that if I put too much thought into this one, I'll kill it before it gets out of the can.

Thinking leads to overthinking leads to talking myself out of taking chances. I need to get back to that FEARLESS mode.

This is probably why I've been listening to a lot of prog rock and hard rock lately, especially stuff from the late 60s and 70s. I'm trying to catch a certain vibe, because if there's a record store, then perhaps there's a band in the story. And maybe the leader of this folksy prog rock band dabbled in some stuff best left alone. Maybe. And since they were popular in the 70s, I need to get into a lot of that old school rock and roll and hard rock/early metal. Lots of Deep Purple, Rainbow, UFO, but then through Jethro Tull to Neil Young, sliding over to the Rolling Stones to Sonny Rollins (RIP), Freddie Hubbard, Lee Morgan, Coltrane, and Miles.

Always Miles.

And Miles to go.

peace& love