OSCILLATE WILDLY

Some days making music is a joyful, fulfilling and beautiful thing. Like joining the dots in your big colouring book when you were a kid. One day you might grow up and look back at those scribbles and squirm, but most of the time if you look really carefully, you can see potential. Right there in the different coloured strokes of your child-sized wax crayon, some kind of futuristic blueprint for the person you were going to grow up and be. On a good day you feel proud to be that person. He might have major personality flaws and suck at a lot of things, but actually he’s not a bad human being and you’d probably get on with him quite well socially if you ever crossed paths.

On a bad day, making music can feel like walking round a strangers house in the pitch dark, arms outstretched in front of you like human antennas, in the hope of protecting you from anything that might smash into you and take your eyeballs with it. Sounds and ideas sequentially arise like lightbulbs above yours and the heads of the people around you. Some glow brighter the longer you look at them, while others flicker like fireflies before disappearing back to from wherever they came, never to be recorded, acknowledged or seen again. Some sounds, it would appear, are destined to be stillborn, others will howl once with pleasure at their arrival into this world only to be ignored by those who could give them life.
But as the great Thornton wilder said; ‘There is a land for the living and there is a land for the dead’.

XBH