a little while ago i posted a good morning song for one of my little online friends in our slack channel. ze said it was like having a personal good morning, which is sweet. so i have gotten in the habit of uploading a new song from my catalog every day for the morning music.
it's a nice little ritual, and also it's a way for me to look at the body of my work, which i am only just reclaiming.
the one from yesterday is one i'm a little excited to see again. it was the first thing i wrote for my new teacher when i came to study at college. he told me to go away and come back next week with something written for clarinet trio, so i wrote this, a series of short pieces in some different styles.
well, i was almost finished editing some video i wanted to show you.
i say "almost", because i got to the end of the project and decided that i wanted to re-shoot all the footage and make it nicer. plus for some reason with all the footage i shot, i was missing an important part, so i was actually just getting ready to scrap the project but then for some reason i decided to go into my files to get a song that i wrote years ago because i want to rework it a little for new purposes and that's when my desktop machine died.
good news: i had good backups, mostly.
and it's not a surprise: for the last week there have been behavioral indications that made me think "is my computer dying?"
what i haven't really told you here is that i lost faith. that may be strange because when i GOT faith, i was not shy to tell you.
it wasn't so much that i lost faith, but given the way i had been thrown out of my church combined with the increasing stress of maintaining all those cognitive dissonances, i walked away from it.
i feel better now, but i also kind of miss it because parts of it were very appealing.
i wrote a lot of church music, though, and even though i feel a vague embarrassment about it now, some of it is still pretty decent work.
the other thing that happened to me is that at about the time i was getting thrown out of my church, i lost my musical voice. my heart was broken and i had devoted the whole of my art to the church and all of a sudden music went right out of my life.
if you are a composer, you think in music. you hear snips and notes and phrases just as you go along in your day. you think in songs. you have a song for unloading the dishwasher, or because it's cold out.
and then one day music was gone from me.
i didn't sing, didn't play, didn't think in music, didn't hear it in my mind, and didn't even care to listen to it.
but recently two things happened. i acquired a young (to me) friend who is a very skilled musician. and you know how you do with new friends: you share the things you have in common.
and i found myself saying "i used to be a musician." and i wanted to share my work, to show who i used to be. and music was less foreign.
but then i fell in love.
and i am still not ready to talk to you about that, but all of a sudden i wanted to bring out all of my work, the good and the bad and say "this is who i was, who i AM", and i wanted suddenly to play music and listen to it and make mixtapes (even though you don't put them on tape any more) because i used to think in music and i used to express love through music and without music i did not have my whole toolset.
so music and i are not quite at home again, but we are having a renewed acquaintance.
and i was looking through my files and i found this song, in two versions. they are strikingly different, i think.