(Of course, I also talk about being raised by a pianist and my childhood dog's nervous pals.)
As ever, hope it helps. The Link.
"There’s a time when you must exist, submerged — alone and drowning — in the world you’ve created. You have to dwell there until the fine silt of your subconscious rises in clouds and you can’t see anything around you. You have to exist by touch and feel. But then there are times when you come up for air. When you are taking those steadying breaths of again, and this might be the time to approach your work, chartingly..."