So yestereve I delved back into my broken laptop to reopen a nearly finished music file that I have been putting off since 2009. Putting it off because of fear. Putting it off because I know what I want to hear, and I'm afraid that I can't quite pull off the sound. Fear of having what I think is one of my finest works fall under judgement, or more likely and worse, being ignored.
Music has been my most persistant and faithful of lovers. She's like a few of my old friends, whom I can walk away from for years without explanation, only to find their welcoming arms awaiting me upon my return. For this reason she is the only tattoo I would ever consider getting.
It felt great to man the workstation again, open up the editing pallates on tracks that have long needed attention, add new sounds that ill likely remove the next day, waste an hour to get five minutes of useful work. Only time spent on music is never wasted.
Today, I recalled a memory from sixth grade where I was asked to participate in a stock market simulation. They lured us in with talk of riches, houses, sports cars and the like. I quit after a week. I couldn't keep guitars and Kurt Cobain off of my brain.
I don't like where I find myself career wise, almost strictly because I shudder at the thought of not being able to provide for my loved ones. But I am happy. I enjoy my work. I enjoy my kids. I enjoy my woman. And last night, for the first time in awhile, I remembered how much I enjoy my music.
Music, I can't quit you.
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