Making something out of nothing.
After her fight with Longshot and her labor scare, Alison had begun spending a great deal more time in her music room than she had been. It was something she needed to be doing, anyway. And, it gave her some time to herself to think and sort things out. She cleared her head better when she was dumping all of her worries into music.
The piano John bought them for their 'wedding' had gotten a great deal of use. Her boasts to Dakota had been true. She could play the piano. But, it had been a while since she last did so. And it took some time to get back up to form. Once she had, the songwriting had become that much easier. And when her back started to protest the hard piano bench, she'd convinced Robbie and Longshot to move one of their old futon mattresses into the room. She could sit on it much more comfortably than the floor and still have plenty of room for all her papers and notebooks. Getting up was another matter entirely, though. Between the piano and the futon, she had more material than she knew what to do with.
The album itself was coming along beautifully. Her producers were a riot. Two short Japanese men with huge personalities. She had a photo on top of her piano -- beside the photos of Star, Longshot, Robbie and Miyuki, and John and Lisa -- of the two of them crouched on either side of her at the studio. They each had an ear pressed to either side of her belly and amazed expressions on their faces. The studio was never short of laughs. Particularly when she brought Longshot. The three of them got along famously and spoke in such rapid Japanese that she got lost.
She was still somewhat anxious about the time line of events. If the album took off like her husband and her producers were convinced it would, it would be road time in the not terribly distant future. But, that was a concern for later, she supposed. For right now, all she wanted to focus on was getting the damn thing finished.
That was how she ended up cross-legged on the futon, strumming an old acoustic guitar lightly and humming to herself. Something about this latest song she was working on did not lend itself well to piano music. So, she was trying a different track.
The piano John bought them for their 'wedding' had gotten a great deal of use. Her boasts to Dakota had been true. She could play the piano. But, it had been a while since she last did so. And it took some time to get back up to form. Once she had, the songwriting had become that much easier. And when her back started to protest the hard piano bench, she'd convinced Robbie and Longshot to move one of their old futon mattresses into the room. She could sit on it much more comfortably than the floor and still have plenty of room for all her papers and notebooks. Getting up was another matter entirely, though. Between the piano and the futon, she had more material than she knew what to do with.
The album itself was coming along beautifully. Her producers were a riot. Two short Japanese men with huge personalities. She had a photo on top of her piano -- beside the photos of Star, Longshot, Robbie and Miyuki, and John and Lisa -- of the two of them crouched on either side of her at the studio. They each had an ear pressed to either side of her belly and amazed expressions on their faces. The studio was never short of laughs. Particularly when she brought Longshot. The three of them got along famously and spoke in such rapid Japanese that she got lost.
She was still somewhat anxious about the time line of events. If the album took off like her husband and her producers were convinced it would, it would be road time in the not terribly distant future. But, that was a concern for later, she supposed. For right now, all she wanted to focus on was getting the damn thing finished.
That was how she ended up cross-legged on the futon, strumming an old acoustic guitar lightly and humming to herself. Something about this latest song she was working on did not lend itself well to piano music. So, she was trying a different track.