And you..?

I've always though creativity as a curse rather than an option; and whatever my life's work is, I doubt it'll ever be finished until I'm dead & gone. Meanwhile - life's too short, and you're a long time dead, so life is there for the living of it & art for the pure sweet passion of being here in the first place, although there is an essential demarcation between my creative work & more traditional pursuits, such as storytelling & singing folk songs. In this latter respect I find it essential to have at least one new song on the go at any one time, and several more in the pipeline. To this end I keep a little book, an A6 Black 'n Red (though I've promised myself a Moleskine when it gets full, which will be another year or so) in which I keep a note of every song I sing in public, paid & unpaid, and every song I have a notion to learn. Many never get beyond this stage of course; and others I learn, sing once, and promptly forget about, like Child #1, which I made a lot of fuss about on account of Pentangle usurping it for The Cruel Sister and feeding it back into the folk clubs. Others come filtering though without my knowing, like Child #32, which you can hear on my myspace page in an unaccompanied rendering saving improvised episodes sung with a Hungarian Jew's Harp. This is King Henry, nabbed from the singing of my dear old oppo, Thor Ewing, a braw tale of comedy horror & burlesque which I can't ever remember having to learn. The Border Brogue, incidently, is my own sweet native tongue; as a native Northumbrian, of course, we resent being thought of as English, though ever quite Scots either! Otherwise - too many songs, not enough time!

Is there any significance in the number 17?