11/17/2015

Trying

I can sense that the season is seeking to strip me of my sensibilities. The lack of light has left me loose and disconnected. The doubts within me are harmonizing, preparing for a suite of dirges that will call me into the darkness.

I am trying my best to not let that happen. 

I'm not exercising. I seem to instead be working as much as possible. I seem to not have leisure time at the moment. Everything feels like a job, but knowing that, I'm kind of relaxed about it. I'm doing good work, even if I sometimes begin to lose faith in myself and the quality of what I do. 

I'm more cautious than I've ever been in my life. I don't take risks anymore, not the way I would have in the past. I don't ask anyone out. I don't go anywhere spontaneously. I don't look for other jobs. I don't look to have adventures.

I know what I have to do, and what I do is work. 

Well, work and play Minecraft. 

I need to be doing something purposeful at every moment, it seems. Even my chosen pastime is a form of work, as it takes a lot of time to accomplish the objectives of the game. I'll spend weeks on a particular task I'm trying to accomplish.

Yesterday, I converted back into a zombie villager, repopulating the first village I ever saw in my game world. There's only one of them so far, but I remember the tremendous loss I felt when I realized that my nocturnal mining habits had attracted so many zombies that the entire village was wiped out. 

Seriously. 

Forgive me if I don't explain tonight.

As I type this, I'm listening to a Board of Architectural review meeting, half-listening to the things the architect is telling them about the parapet, something about utilitarian spaces, something about demolishing a building and preferred strategies but I'm not really listening at all. All of their words are being processed by me, though, as my ears perk up occasionally when I hear something that interests me. 

They've perked up a bit as I sift through the words for details I can tell to others. That's what I do. I sift through the noise for things I think people should know. I've done this for over 20 years now as a journalist.

When it comes to other creative outlets, though, I don't know what other people would be interested in. I just make my noise and hope one day others will sift something and make sense of my sensibilities.


11/12/2015

Secret music

I wonder if anyone will ever listen to the music I've made over the past six years. They're improvisational journeys that capture specific moments in time while reflecting on all the other moments in time I've had in my 42 years. 

Technically it's not all there, but I record myself as a way of speaking to the universe that I know, which includes myself. I'm sometimes able to project things that really capture how I'm feeling about a particular issue. I'm able to release myself and just communicate with myself in a way that words don't do as much as they used to. 

Words alone aren't enough for me. For the past eight and a half years, I've been employed as a writer who just writes text. I've enjoyed being on the radio at WTJU as part of Soundboard, but it's going away at the beginning of the year.

I miss making audio of any kind. I learned how to produce public radio pieces because it continued a tradition of making audio that goes back to my childhood. I loved making sound happen, capturing my voice on a tape for a series of silly things I did with my best friend growing up. 

Listening now to music I did in mid-summer makes me glad I've not stopped believing in the power of making sound, music, whatever you call it. I've given myself a soundtrack that makes sense to me, helps me feel like I've achieved something, just by capturing something that's intimate on tape, over and over again.

As I said, technically I'm not sure if this is music at all or just the mad ramblings of a crazy person. In this moment when I write this word, though, the creation I made happen by believing in myself by hitting record is making me glad I've tried.

Could anyone listen? Would anyone be entertained? I don't make what I make for anyone else but me. But that keeps me from even trying to find others to play music with or even to find people to play it for. It's almost like I have to keep it secret because it's the only thing that I don't want ever to lose. 

Listening to me sing on the nights where I feel confident is very important to me. 

I have a voice. Many voices. I'm a reporter who has the fortune to have been on the same beat for eight and a half years. I'm a father who encourages his kids to learn as much as they can about the world. 

I'm also a person who has a creative point of view that is not currently being expressed.

Publicly, at least.

Privately, I have hours and hours of my demo tapes.

Will anyone ever hear them? I hope so. I'd like to think there's material in here that could be fleshed out into something. 

But I don't think I should put out the raw stuff I'm currently doing. I'd like people to know about it, which is why I guess I'm writing about it tonight. There's a whole creative side of me that I would like to explore. That's the direction I'd like to take. 




Thoughts between Orange and Culpeper

The Virginia countryside rolls by as I move further away from home and toward the second one that serves as the locus of my family. There ar...