Something To Write About

Whenever I can't think of anything to write about, I find myself looking through pictures.
I was fooling around with a photo app on my iPhone and shot this picture by accident. It's strange on many levels.
Why on earth would my phone, or the Universe for that matter, select this particular image to capture? Is that a baffled look on my face, or amused? It's hard to say.
And while I'm on the subject of pictures, I discovered something recently that was surprising to me.  For some strange reason, I look miffed in many of the photographs taken of me while I'm playing my guitar.
One of my songwriting buddies said that I looked mad enough to eat a bug.
That's perplexing because playing music brings me such joy. The only explanation I can conjure up is that my deep concentration face looks like my PO face.
I changed that this past Friday night when we played in Columbus, Georgia. I concentrated on letting the joy come through on my face. I haven't seen any photographs, but being aware is half the battle.
I love playing coffee houses. More often than not, the people in the crowd a music lovers. An added bonus of playing coffee houses is the aroma of coffee. Beans from Africa, Asia, South America and other distant lands compete for olfactory space in your brain.
The aroma becomes even more pronounced when you hear the rattle of fresh roasted coffee beans being poured into a grinder and then an instant later it sounds as if the beans are being ground by a weed eater. The smell explodes into the air. Did I mention that I love coffee houses?
I know it's a stretch going from an accidental picture to a weed eater grinding coffee, but that's often what happens when you don't have anything to write about.
Y'all have a remarkable week.