Today I felt as though a group of excited debutants tore through the candy shop and left the wrappers everywhere. I've been chewed up and spit out. My heart is so full but so laid bare. I haven't let myself envision this hard since the end of my last business, and it's both incredibly exciting and incredibly vulnerable. Yet vulnerable is the work. I want to protect myself. To hide behind the vision. Behind some neat and tidy version of what I seek to create. But what I seek to create isn't neat and tidy. It's vulnerable. It's messy. It's about encouraging people to open their process, to invite people in, to share outwards. I don't particularly want to lead. Yet if I do, it's only because I choose to follow my own advice.
I tried to find things to make it feel safe today. I tried to find things wrong with other parts of my life. I tried to relate with my head instead of my heart. That doesn't work.
I've shipped a lot of music in the past few weeks. It's been powerful. It's become the vehicle for my process, not something I sometimes do as part of my process. But at some point I started shipping because I was "supposed" to. I've made a commitment to show up and share what I've done. But I show up to my creative process not for you. Not to record music. Not to write a post. I show up because I love it, I choose to love it.
I sat down at the synth today feeling totally wrung out. I hadn't played since Friday, when it had felt uninspired and before all of The Outwork's vision tore through me. I sat down to play for me. I was dancing and having an amazing time after 5 minutes. Of course I wanted to record. I pressed the red button. I played a great track, focusing on transitions which feels like the next frontier for me while I think about playing live. At the end, I realized I'd forgotten to plug in the cable to the recorder. Thank you, Miss God, for keeping that moment for myself.
Row, Row, Row, your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
Life is but a dream
I step into the flow
And then I let it go
I open my heart
My body, my soul
I surrender
I surrender
I surrender
Life is but a dream
- Isaac Avila and Brooke McCay