My hands rest on the keyboard. I prepare for the deluge to come, but nothing so far. It’s 6:30 am, and like the rest of this summer, I am awake way too early.
I am listening back to my rehearsal from last night. I am preparing for my show on Thursday. It feels very different from the rest of the times I perform lately because it has NOTHING to do with crypto. It’s just a regular gig in NYC, just like when I was a teenager. I hope more people come than they did back then!
I have been distracted lately. I feel like while I am growing in leaps and bounds, I am on an internal acid trip. The hits keep coming, and all I can do is hold on in wonder and hope to get through the difficult and into the higher self.
This is hard, and I worry it makes me annoying to be around. I am internally consumed and only come up for air when necessary. It’s not quite as bad as what I make it sound like, it’s actually incredible and exhilarating, but I feel disconnected.
I showed up yesterday, and Will (my producer/engineer/friend/musical partner) breaks out the songs we were working on. He did a simple thing and asked me to turn off the world and put away the phone.
I have been attached to my phone since I was a toddler, I LOVE that thing, but I acquiesced and we settled into the songs.
After just a few lines, I relaxed and realized how much I have been missing this. It was like coming home. Yes I have been writing, and every time we’ve worked lately, it’s been productive. But I forgot the simple joy of singing. For pleasure, for fun, the feel of the music in my mouth, the affair with the melody, the flirtation and climax. When it’s right, it’s like heaven. When it’s wrong, the obvious counter feeling is true.
Like you all have probably heard me complain, my voice has been a real sh-t show the past years, and I can’t figure out what’s wrong. It’s irritating, debilitating, depressing, and mysterious. Most music is wrapped in stress, whereas before, it was what liberated me from it.
I sometimes internalize blame for not participating in music as much anymore. The reality is though that it’s not a shortcoming or lack of dedication as an artist (someone like me is unfortunately constantly standing in judgment of self). It really is this physical element that I cannot resolve, but cannot abandon my attempt to.
So now I am not eating dairy, or gluten, or drinking any alcohol for 2 weeks in prep. Not much of a change so far, but yesterday, it was there. My elusive voice was there to sooth and give forth song to that little closet we were practicing in. I felt alive and in my own skin.
Truth is undeniable. We all know it when it’s there. Something in me has been driving me into a certain unknown. Maybe it’s all unknown. Regardless, when I sing, it’s like finding true north. I am not as lost.
In fact, it gives me a sense of purpose. Even though I may not have the answers, when I tap into that, the details are less important.
All I can do when I am learning these lessons is eat sh-t. Just bear it, get through it, and be grateful. Holy smokes, am I grateful. That is true. So thank God I could sing last night (and for all of it). I like reaching that higher self internally, but nothing compares to the outward creation of music and the good that can come of it.
I don’t pray, but I do when it’s something this dear to me. I hope I get better, because when I sing, I know it’s why I am here. It is how I make love to the world. It is how I can truly connect most with people. I make life, with all it’s highs and lows, into beautiful art that can survive even when I have turned to ash.