I love her. She reminds me of a ruler.
I'm not sure how I measure up. This day to day studio practice while satisfying and wonderful provides very little if no feedback. (Hint, hint, leave comments)
One minute I'm all excited about something and the next I think maybe I have an overinflated ego.
One minute I think my pieces are crispy and fresh and the next they are stale and old.
So, it all comes back to the practice and the moment.
I think she has one white are for purity and one arm with an "f" on it for a profane remark.
Viewed this documentary last night. I thought it was really good. I got it from Netflix.
2 comments:
been wanting to see this...thanks for the reminder. just added it to the netflix cue : )
happy 2013-
b
I have those same feelings about music--I have nothing to offer so just keep it to myself. There are hundreds and hundreds of musicians, singers, and songwriters who have better skills, voices, and writing ability than I do. Don't inflict mediocrity on others--just play and sing to your hearts content on the porch and leave everyone else alone. I guess I'm saying I think I understand your insecure moments--you love art and know what stirs you, and sometimes what you're doing doesn't stir you at all. Don't you find though that that is a passing feeling? Don't you eventually say to yourself, "This is pretty good!" Or at least, "What difference does it make if people seem to enjoy it and maybe feel something from it." My own feeling about your art is that I love it--maybe not all your pieces--but your art without hesitation. The spirit you approach your work with is a beautiful thing, and what comes from that spirit is very often beautiful art that I would be proud to hang in my home (if I had more wall space). Loving something like art or music so much has its dark side--others judge it worthless and we take that judgment to heart because we love the art so much we don't want to defile its name--or something like that. I don't know. I only know sometimes I love when people are pleased by it, and then I feel really stupid to put myself out there as though I could offer what a real musician or singer/songwriter has to offer. Those are the times I just want to sing to myself because what it makes me feel from within is the most important thing--I felt that in church when everyone would sing. Some people talk about the transformation they felt when they were baptized. I didn't feel anything at all, and certainly not what I felt every time I sang with all those other people (some of them were terrible, and I loved that no one cared). I have no doubt at all that the best voice I have is the one I use when I'm alone--and the best guitar playing I do is then also. It must be because there is no risk of judgment--my hands and my voice are freed.
Ok, enough blather--I'm trying to stoke myself up for this house concert thing that got postponed because of the flu epidemic--not a good idea to have 50 people in a living room. I was all ready; I'd poured over songs looking for great ones and rehearsed until I was on the verge of hating the songs. The songs were ready to burst out, and like giving birth, I suppose, I wanted them out! Then it got postponed for a month. Now I'm wallowing in "what am I doing." Maybe I need a hair shirt or one of those lashes you whip yourself with. What do you think?
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