It is disappointing when you realize all the big talk was just a bluff. Castles made of sand. Maybe an ego massage, a way of being friendly, but, you know, really not cool; a detour, a rabbit hole, a waste of time and energy.
Thinking of the "Fields" of Life.
There's the Field of Opportunity, the Field of Fertility, the Field of Futility. We toil in all of them.
It was time to "go to the mattresses" yesterday. Alone in our humble little rehearsal room, with a guitar and a couple pages of lyrics. I think about my "creative life," mostly spent in quiet rooms, writing, learning lines, strumming a guitar. Being true to the process. Finally the process is all I have. What happens or doesn't happen is beyond me.
Two shimmering, weird-beast songs emerged. Two very different animals & energies. Will they see the light of day? Who knows? Not every song needs to be sung "out there." Within the studio walls the songs stood up to be counted. A totally consuming process. Yes. It was a good session. Singing, playing, making something. As Pete Townsend once sang: "There once was a note, pure and easy…"
You can hang your life on that note, and sometimes that's it, all there is, and surprisingly it is sort of enough, you know, sort of...
