Leaps

Although I've had plenty of time off work recently - firstly through illness and then through taking annual leave for my birthday week - I haven't allowed myself much time to work on music.

Which has been fine, since I've had plenty of other things to be doing: most enjoyable they have been too.

But which hasn't been fine, since I've another performance-related deadline looming ever closer, which has been nagging away at me, and giving rise to thoughts and feelings such as the following:

I don't have enough time.
I'm not happy with what I've done so far.
It's going to be disappointing.
I'm not confident: with my work so far, with my abilities.
Maybe I'm just not that into it any more.
Maybe I haven't got that spark.
I'm letting myself down.
It feels like a chore.

Then I spend an evening like this evening - spending plenty of time, as much as anything, getting myself into a suitable frame of mind: not least doing what I can so as to try putting the above kind of thoughts to one side. One thing which seems to help, is to repeat to myself the following phrase:

I don't give a fuck.

The less pressure I put on myself to produce anything which sounds good, or which sounds like something someone else would like or even give a fuck about, the better. It's a mixture of a defensive posture and also a liberating one.

And yet, even as I loaded up the computer software and gathered my haphazard array of instruments and devices, it seemed like it wasn't going to be fun. Again, a chore, a reflection on what I wouldn't be able to achieve.

Time to tell myself something yet again: it doesn't matter if I spend an hour producing something terrible, embarrassing or appalling. Just spend the time doing it all the same.

And so to work.




Hours later, I've re-emerged, having had a whale of a time, and having made great strides in one particular piece I'm working on, seemingly effortlessly. With confidence, with playfulness and with an eye on how to take it further and make it even better.

I feel energised, I feel it's part of my language again, I feel a great sense of possibility.

I feel none of the things highlighted above in red.

At times like this (even after my first day back at work today), I love it, and I feel in touch with something utterly, joyously nourishing.

I'm going out for a walk for a short while, then maybe I'll calm down and be able to get some sleep later. It's still a lovely evening out there.

A rhyme

On an evening like this
Cycling is bliss

I thank you!

My creative pursuits have currently taken a back seat, and right now I'm not anxious about that: thanks to the weather and other factors, I'm suddenly back into a mode which I would best describe as Cycling Like A Madman. I've probably said similar in previous posts, but it forms an outlet which is obviously quite different to the creative stuff, but is very satisfying in its own right.

You've seen dogs when their owner has taken them to the park and let them off the lead, and they bound about with sheer abandon and their tongues hanging out, spirited and euphoric - that's me that is, when I find I can actually gain speed up hills which used to leave me out of breath (and yes, sometimes my tongue is hanging out...).

I was also pleasantly alarmed to note that the route I'm currently cycling (not literally as I type: that would be foolhardy), last week was taking around 1 hour 41 minutes to complete: this week it's taken me an average of 1 hour 32 minutes.

There's a lyric in Memories Can't Wait by Talking Heads

"there's a party in my mind
and it's never gonna stop"

-and which goes on to say words to the effect of, other people can go home, whereas I'm stuck here and can't leave. Sometimes my own incessant trains of thought feel like that, but a good hour or two of Cycling Like A Madman is the equivalent of a very effective ssshhhhhhhhh!, things get a little quieter up there.

A couple of things

Firstly, being in a busy, wonderful real-ale pub last night with a couple of friends, I saw something which reminded me why I love cats. The pub was pretty busy, a little hectic but with a good atmosphere. Meanwhile a black and white she-cat was sat looking out of the window onto the street outside, occasionally craning her neck having apparently spotted the most interesting thing ever: ears twitching like radar (does radar twitch? You know what I mean anyway), and paying no notice to the goings on in the pub. She seemed to be making a statement: fuck you lot, you bore me. It's all happening out there!

Secondly, today I finally got my hands on the new Einstürzende Neubauten album. I haven't listened to it yet, but I'm going to shortly.

At last. It's mine, mine!

Mine, I tell you! Mine!!!