Psychology of an Insecure Creative

Last night I sent the music to my song “The Very Same World” to Erika, the new Director of Music at my church.   This afternoon I found myself writing very nervously in my private diary.  Included were passages such as follows:  

I felt instantly horrible about the song I sent her the very first moment after I clicked on “send.”  Before I clicked on “send,” I thought my song had promise.  Immediately after knowing it would soon be scrutinized by a person of intimidating musical talent, I decided that the song sucked.

I chose that song, The Very Same World, only because of three things:

1. An earlier, faster version of it has gotten far more plays on my SoundCloud than any other song of mine.

2. When I sent my music to my brother, he singled out “The Very Same World” as the song he liked the best, calling it an “excellent composition” and “world class.”

3. When I sent the lyrics to my daughter, she got back to me saying they were “awesome!”

Other than that, no one has really commented on it. I don’t much like it myself.  I somewhat regret not finding the time today to get “Midnight Screams” to her instead.  But “Midnight Screams” forces the singer to extend a very high long “e” sound, odiously enough. I haven’t gotten around to changing the words yet, which might even involve changing the title, since that “e” sound is on the word “screams.’ Forget what high note it is specifically, but it’s high.

Later, after the church dinner, I spoke briefly with Erika.  During the brief conversation, I changed my mind.   I decided the “Same World” tune was good after all, because I heard myself sing a few lines from it.  The lines sounded good to me when I sang them, and I believe I saw Erika smile.

Most of all, however, when I timidly admitted that I had put the word “screams” on a long-held high note in “Midnight Screams,” forcing the singer to have to sing an extended long E vowel sound, Erika simply said:

no problem

She then amazed me with just about the most thrilling long E high note I’ve ever heard.  Nobody’s going to shout “verboten” at that good a voice  – and now I don’t have to change the title either.

I slept well last night.  My neurosis has been relieved.   

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Fifth Day of Composing

I’ve been composing a lot of music. I’m working on “Bone of My Bones” the way I actually have been hearing it in my head all this time, ever since doing a substandard sequencing of it some time ago, only motivated by wanting to “place” it within the Royal Rhapsody. This new version coincides with the email of July 12th of this year, which I sent jointly to Danielle, to my daughter, and to my pastor, when I received the musical information for the extended composition I’m now working on.

Although it is a bit embarrassing in restrospect to observe how I attributed every nuance of my new compositional focus to Direct Divine Design, there nonetheless is a nice balance in the way the varying themes blend into a whole.  I notice this as I work on the new composition, and it eases the sense of enormity which the project conveys, which can at times be intimidating, especially when one is overcome with sloth.  

Not so my present mode, as I actively pursue heated composition on Day Five.  Here is the extended creative information:

July 12, 2017

New / Old Music.

All these themes, as well as the various segues and transitions that tie them together, come from the “same place,” musically speaking, a place of perfect beauty and purity that I daresay is divine, both in origin and in nature.

1. The Main Theme – is essentially “Bone of My Bones” (first movement, Royal Rhapsody), but with a defining beat to it – unlike its manifestation in The Royal Rhapsody, and more like the way I played it on Neil’s guitar after I first wrote it, before the lady from the nearby house interrupted us to inform us that we should really not have been making music so close to a private residence.

The “defining beat” is able to identify nuances in the melodic/harmonic content of the piece and highlight them for the listener, whereas they would otherwise have been overlooked. For this purpose, the usage of “beat” is very definitive throughout the larger piece of which all these themes are a part. This also means that is *essential* to find the right percussive instrumentation for the project. If I’m at the stage where my own body comes closest, then I haven’t gotten very far. But the “electronic drums” used in the original Berkeley Project from which this type of music-making springs fall far short of the more divinely designated drumming that I’m sure is available if I truly seek that beat wholeheartedly.

The Main Theme will be stated three times, not in succession, but spread about throughout the piece. The first time would probably be at the very beginning – just as is the case in the original Royal Rhapsody. The second time will emerge from the Tertiary Theme which I will discuss a bit later. The third and final time will emerge from the Secondary Theme, which I will discuss right now.

2. The Secondary Theme is stated three times in succession, with different transitional music following each statement of the theme, before the final segue leads to the conclusive Main Theme, and not just to another restatement of the Secondary Theme.

To identify the Secondary Theme, it is the section of music that I originally had inserted within the “Stalk Section” found in the long version of “Bubbles Taboo,” before I left it out when I got up to Moscow and was able to sequence that version. It is a sad theme, though with an interesting lilt in this more lively, rhythmic version. Alao, to further identify it for the sake of nostalgia, the guitarist Niel Mortenson, and he alone, has heard this music emerge from my fingers.

About the transitional music following each statement of the Secondary Theme, the first transition is the shortest and the second transition is considerably longer. The first statement of the second transition leads to the third statement of the Secondary Theme. The second statement of the second transition is the third and final transition pertaining to the Secondary Theme, and leads to the third and conclusive statement of the Main Theme.

(I see that I am in danger of forgetting both the aforementioned transitions. That’s what I get for not singing them immediately into my Audacity sound editor that I have downloaded for Windows – a time-saving habit that I’ve never quit bothered to develop. But I’m trying not to kick myself too hard right now. Next time it’s quiet, and I’m at home at my desk, I’ll tune into the Secondary Theme as deeply as possible, and hope that the relevant transitions return to me. They always do, if I work at it.)

3. The Tertiary Theme can best be identified by its being the theme I first “heard” this morning. As a “brand new” theme, it is connected conceptually, but not historically, to the themes in the Berkeley Project. It is a much shorter theme, and the power of its three-time successive statement might be dismissed by the listener were it not for the glaring function of its transitions. The transitions actually expand upon the power of their predecessors, and fool the listener into believing they’re headed for their original usage to serve the Main Theme or the Secondary Theme, rather than back to the Tertiary Theme.

Although there are other themes, it gets tricky from here. The Secondary Theme is connected musically to “Bubbles Taboo” in a way that is telling, if awkward. Its original usage not only was conceived to be part of a lengthier rendition of “Bubbles Taboo” than the world will probably never hear, but the transitions it involves point to “Bubbles Taboo” in other ways as well. Right now, however, I’m having a hard time recollecting how one of the transitions, used to lead directly into one of the statements of the Main Theme, also leads very easily into the main defining theme of “Bubbles Taboo.” But let’s face it — who wouldn’t be having a hard time keeping track of all this by now? I believe the connection between the two uses of that particular transition will return to me, along with the defining musical content of the transition in question. But if it doesn’t? C’est la vie. God obviously has something better in mind.

4. Sirens of Hope – this will not necessarily be referred to as the Fourth Theme. What appears to happen. after an appropriate expression of transitional music seems to be putting a cap on the final statement of the Main Theme, is that the last measure or two of that transitional music happens to lead very nicely into the main theme of “Sirens of Hope” – yet stated this time without the fast, rhythmic quality that characterizes the way I had hastily sequenced it for the Berkeley Project, once I had arrived in Moscow and had proceeded to put some small measure of rational thought into how exactly I was to go about it, before impulsively plunging into the haphazard, misleading version I posted on the Berkeley Page, because I couldn’t wait, and couldn’t stop, and was just too excited, and too impatient, and all that.

I also don’t want to overemphasize the value of another body of transitional music that stems from the “A Part” or introductory section of the version of “Sirens of Hope” already sequenced. But it appears that when this body of music is taken much slower and much less rhythmically than I had presented it for the “Sirens” already sequenced, it has power both to attract the listener almost to a theme of its own, and also to take the statement of that theme directly back to the main theme of “Sirens of Hope” from which it stemmed.

In conclusion, I know that I will later feel I should have gathered my senses and sung into my Audacity program every theme or transition that I originally heard myself performing when I first woke up this morning and seemed not to be able to stop the singing, accompanied by the percussive use of my body, that apparently I was performing all throughout my sleep last night. (If you’re incredulous, just ask my next door neighbor.)

However, I also feel that the information provided in this file is sufficient to get me started on the project. At some point, the transitional themes will recur in full, if I go about this in a good heart – the way I went about when I was in Berkeley. I basically have to keep bearing in mind where this music is coming from – the place from which it comes is not merely Beauty of Meaning or Purpose or Truth – it s actually Perfection, and it cries out to be honored as such. Probably it cries out more loudly to perfectionists themselves — because we are the ones most likely to believe its call.

The difference, of course, between God’s Perfection and human perfectionism is that He doesn’t make mistakes. This is why He is completely to be trusted. There’s no danger in trusting Him, as there is with even the most trustworthy of mere mortals. So, I can take comfort in that His giving me this unexpected new musical direction so surprisingly this morning, was *not* a mistake of His. I may or may not be mistaken to prioritize so highly its production. The Jury is still out on that one. but the Judge is the one with the gavel.

All for now —

Andy

The problem has been that by the time I went back to these words approximately three weeks later, I had forgotten the “Tertiary Theme” entirely. You see, I had never bothered to write it down, and so eventually it escaped me. I then abandoned the project in disgust. But then, unexpectedly, the theme that I had not written down returned to me! This was approximately five days ago, and so I resumed work on the project immediately. I still haven’t written the theme down — but I’m convinced I won’t forget it, as I continue to work on other, less relevant, portions of the impending piece — such as this “Bone of My Bones” section.

This new composing persona also suggests the rebirth or resurrection of a former great Andy-image within the Moscow community. In this image, I am *seen* composing music with Finale at various hot spots around town. This is a bright contrast to the image of the Andy who is *seen* furiously typing on his externally extended keyboard, as he is doing now, when just minutes ago, he was *seen* pleasantly composing beautiful new music, as is his preferred persona. Conspicuously so, at that. Noticeably, visibly composing music — to the widespread admiration of all.

You see, when I am composing music with Finale, I use a lot of “drag & drop” features, mostly large silent swoops of the external mouse.  It’s a novel sight in comparison to the previous, furious fast-paced, prolonged spells of typing.  It’s a welcome sight, in the eyes of most of the community.  They are at once relieved of my typing, and introduced to the much more pleasant and intriguing world of music notation software, its usage made manifest among the multitudes that comprise Moscow, Idaho, where I most notably, noticeably do my work.  

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Sacrifices with Strife

I had to go back to the post The Next Step to find out exactly where I had begun to veer off course. For it was clear that I had strayed, and very clear what kinds of elements had characterized the diversion.   I only lacked a decent starting point, in order to resume my course, and avoid those elements that earlier had polluted the purity of my path, and had instead instilled a sense of paralysis and meltdown.   The deleterious elements of which I speak involved, invariably, the ill-timed and often ill-equipped efforts with which I most awkwardly attempted to enlist the allegiance of local talents of various sorts to assist me in some way in promoting my project.

First. there was the concert that never came about.  We had to cancel our earlier show when it came clear that my musicians could not possibly get enough practice to turn in a decent show by the predesignated time.   It was suggested we reschedule; I, for one, insisted we cancel entirely.   My music seemed intimidating to them, and theirs to me.  I would have to listen to them first for a while, and they to me, before thinking about making something like we had all earlier envisioned come about.  So that was rightly set aside.  Instead, I would set about to try and find singers for my demo.

This proved to be only another example of the same fruitless expedition.  It was far more stressful trying to get these singers together than it was to concede that it just wasn’t going to happen.  It would cost money – money that I don’t have, and that I knew not how to get.   As I began to endeavor to raise funds, a part of me that I hate rose into prominence, and I cannot feed that demon inside me in any way if it’s going to lead me to some of the preposterous propositions such as I began to entertain.  I was sickened with myself, infuriated, disgusted, disillusioned with my fellows, disaffected with society, alienated, isolated, self-abnegating, neglectful of my needs, abusive of my body, disfigured, disheveled, mistreated, misshapen, mortified, mutilated, and finally: majorly incapacitated.  I lay on the gurney in the Emergency Room, electrodes probing every pore, as the third EKG in my entire doctor-leery life assured me that this steady chest pain I’d developed was nothing more than pleurisy, and treatable by ibuprofen.

drawing-boardI believe I should leave the rest of the community out of the picture for a while, and dismiss any idea of enlisting their services.  Clearly, this was not the course.  The Next Step reveals exactly where I would be wise to begin.  Aside from talk of organizing a read-thru, which may or may not be necessary (or even wise, considering all I just wrote), the guidelines in that post paint a clear picture of a new starting point that doesn’t involve awkward attempts at creating new associations among my acquaintances, but only involves things that I can do all by myself.  I was thriving when intensely focusing on my music or my script, and their seeing me so thrive is what impressed them from the start — whoever “they” are, which is probably more irrelevant now than I’d ever thought before.

It doesn’t matter who they are, or even what they see, just so long as they don’t see what I’ve been showing them most recently.  “Better a dry morsel,” saith the Preacher, “and quietness therewith, than a house full of sacrifices with strife.” (Proverbs 17:1)

That’s the only house that I’ve been building lately.  It has no sure foundation.  If I sit still, and quietly proceed to notate my piano-vocal score, and look for reasonable revisions to be made in my script in the process, there’s something sure and steady about the construction of that house.  Whatever dry morsels I might chew on throughout, their cost will not be half the cost of what I just endured.   And maybe by the time it takes me to complete that score and second draft, I’ll have a thousand dollars in the bank to invest on hiring singers for the demo, not just trying to round up people in my midst whom I cannot pay and all have better things to do.  I risk being perceived a pest.  This will not do.

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Let’s throw some chicken gumbo soup into the microwave and make another turkey sandwich.  No sense in doing the town.  The town has just done me.

Six O’Clock and All’s Well

There are a number of unpublished and/or recently deleted posts sitting in a folder on my desktop.  I could at any moment publish any number of such posts, but I disdain because I don’t want to be perceived as vomiting on my readers.   However, I do think I ought to make some kind of communicative statement as to why these as-yet-unpublished or no-longer-published posts exist.

Recently, I gave up writing in an online diary I have kept, in one form or another, since 2002, almost fifteen years to this day.  When I began the online diary, I had only been online for about three years.  The Internet was still new and fascinating to me.  I ran across a site called DiaryLand, where I quickly observed that people were actually publicizing all the details of their inner daily weirdness.  This intrigued me.  In some cases, they would code-name the true identities of people and places in their lives, so as not to be “found out.”  In other cases, they would utilize the option to “lock” the diary, and have it be password-protected.  That way, one could be more lenient about their location and the basic first names of their associates, but the readership would be restricted only to those who could be trusted with the information. 

rantEventually, I opted for the latter.  At the time that I left the diary site, approximately one month ago, there were only five readers with permissions to read my diary.  I was pretty sure I trusted them all — but that was no longer the critical issue.  The issue became my dependency on the diary, and in particular, on the dubious practice of letting off steam or “ranting” whenever I felt a need to work through my frustrations.   While it might have been healthy to “rant” in the short-term, it seemed actually to further my anger issues in the long run.  I basically had become addicted to letting off steam.  In other words, my online temper, through the medium of this online diary, took on a form that was much more furious than whatever temper I might have actually been displaying in real life.  Many times, I showed not the slightest bit of real-life irritation while I proceeded to rage online over how badly I wanted to give somebody a piece of my mind.  In fact, it started to feel as though the diary had become the venue where fits of temper could be safely and legitimately performed.   Still, it seemed a performance of questionable box-office value, if you ask me.

It wasn’t just the ranting that eventually got to me.  It was the hyperbole — all the dramatizing I would apply to the details of my life.   It seemed I had an Artist’s need to make the situation somehow more engaging, more compelling to a readership than a mere, dry diary could ever possibly be.   So naturally, I asked myself why I should not apply all those devices to my real writing?   It just seemed I was barking up the wrong tree.

Because the Internet was fresh and exciting in the year 2002, I jumped right onto the online-diary bandwagon, at a time when the word “blog” was almost unknown in the common nomenclature.   The online diary did shape my attitude toward blogging, but I would never have gone for it if it had arisen in my life today.  It was the novelty of the Internet that was at the core of its appeal.   Because I understand this now, I am able to keep my commitment not to return to the site, no matter how addictive I found it to be.  The Internet is simply no longer a “novelty,” and so a decision I made on that basis no longer applies.

This has, however, left a void.  So, if you have found that I am posting a bit more often than usual, know that I’m in the process of trying to fill a void.  This might also cause some of my posts to be more personal than earlier.  Be that as it may.   I found that when I wrote on DiaryLand about my creative work, very few people responded favorably.   People mainly wanted to hear things more along the lines with of my crush on the lady cab driver, which bills I was postponing paying for what reasons, or how much progress I was making not trying to scratch the scab off the top of my head.   I do miss discussing such mundane topics – but as they say, there’s a time and a place for everything.   It just seemed like – it wasn’t the time or the place any longer.  It was only an old habit — dying hard, as do they all.

Ah well – I’m about to attend somebody’s graduation party.  I did manage to engage the interest in the young woman Aubrey whom I mentioned may be singing on my demo.  I also forged ahead to Version 2-M of my Long Version, before I realized that it had basically peaked on Version 1-Z, the presently posted rendition.   I feel like I’m moving a bit too slow — on this demo project, and everything else.  There’s too much precognition going on, and not enough action.  This makes me restless.  But otherwise, it’s six o’clock on a Sunday evening in the city of my dreams – and all’s well. 

More of the Same World

I cut yet another version of this today.  I didn’t exactly work all day, but almost.  At one point I took a walk out to the Arboretum, just because everybody says to do so.  There, it was very pretty.  Shortly later, however, I came back, and resumed work.

I finished this a little past 3:24 of what is in reality a 4:40 piece.  However, I faded it at around 3:02, just like its predecessor, because there’s a natural fade there where it won’t be anticlimactic.

I’ve been feeling angry over an attitude I’m getting from some people who knew me when I was in entirely different circumstances.   These sorts of people don’t seem to understand that their ongoing attitude is unacceptable to me.   By and large, they never actually listen to my music or appreciate the prodigy invested in it.  All they do is notice that there are no vocals, and say something to the effect of: “My time is more important than this.  I’ll listen to this once you have the singing on it.”  In so doing, they completely overlook all the detailed scoring of instrumental parts I put into this effort.  It’s extremely condescending, and I’m not sure why I put up with it.

I’m strongly compelled to equate this attitude with a “California attitude” that many people in other States find puzzling.  However, it’s more likely that I myself was caught up in that syndrome when I lived there, and I can just thank God to have escaped it.  Besides, another friend of mine, also from California, listened to this song from a sincere heart, without scoffing at me or dismissing me as though not worth his time.  Not only him, but his wife and twenty-year-old daughter also appreciated my work.  I could tell that their appreciation was genuine; then my friend also followed me on my SoundCloud.  

This is a good thing.  I’ll take the good with the bad, as my dad always used to say.  I don’t know why I get hung up trying to please everybody.  The truth is that I don’t have the female singers yet.  I also don’t have the exact accompaniment down yet, to be heard by the singers, and support them.  This, what you’re hearing today, comes close.  What I’m hoping is that I can overlook the cynical voice of opposition enough to keep moving forward.  My hope for the week is simply this.  I would like for the much-needed singers to emerge at around about the time I’m finished with this instrumental accompaniment.  In any case, it makes no sense to drop the accompaniment as a project and look full-force for the singers, if when I find them, I don’t have a complete accompaniment for their use.

Resignation and Debut

On Monday I resigned my position as pianist and organist of a local Presbyterian church.  They haven’t found someone to replace me permanently yet, but they have two people who can cover the stretch of time between now and the end of summer.  I also told them I desired to remain a member of the church, but not an employee.  They then agreed that this is their desire, as well.

The main reason for my resignation was that the stress of the job reached the point of interfering completely with my day-to-day spirituality.  Being a church job, this is rather ironic.  But that’s why I decided to continue on with the church.  I found the church itself to be a great contributor to my spirituality – just not the job itself.

Here is the text of my letter of resignation, submitted by email to the entire congregation:

My physical health is good, and I am generally in good spirits, but there are some issues with my mental health that are hard to grasp and have me occasionally feeling very disoriented. These are aggravated by stress. I cannot explain why this is, but somehow the simple piano-organ position that I had expected to be very easy for me and full of joy has become associated with an unbearable level of anxiety that, when it reaches a peak, causes me to make irrational decisions that have enduring consequences. If you can fashion a prayer around these words, please deliver your words to the One who has power to heal.

Also, while I regret that I was too ill to fulfill the Holy Week services, Norman has advised me that they went very well with the substitute. I will not be in church this Sunday, but I hope that thereafter you will all accept me as a member in good standing of First Presbyterian Church but not a part of the music ministry. While I occasionally enjoy playing the piano and recognize it as a gift from God, I have decided that things like reading music, following conductors, turning pages, piano-conducting, etc. are basically in the category of health risks at this time. I will eventually find some kind of piano lounge where I can play at random while daydreaming, make a little more money, and live a bit more comfortably here. So I hope you all will take this in the spirit in which it is intended. First Presbyterian Church of Moscow is the greatest church that I have ever happened upon in all of my lifelong church-hopping, and I will hop no further, so help me, God.

Thank you all for showing me true Christian love. I need that more than I need a job, at this time.

Grace and Peace,

Andy

As a start to a new day-to-day foundation for spirituality, I picked up a hard copy of a book today called The Celebration of Discipline, by a theologian named Richard J. Foster.  I think that to become a little more routinized and regularized (but not “regulated,” mind you) might help with my musical work as well.  I agreed with Pastor Norman that I would still play the Wednesday evening Taize services on a volunteer basis.  Otherwise, I am mainly focused on putting my show together for my debut as a singer-songwriter in this area:

One World Cafe Downtown Moscow

Andy Pope and Friends, Saturday May 6, 7pm, One World Cafe, 533 S. Main Street Moscow Idaho. Be There.

Even the demo is on the back burner for now (although I have rounded up most of the singers).  Today I found all the band members for the show two weeks from tomorrow, so I’m diving wholeheartedly into creating a set list and writing out parts.  I’ve got an Ibenez custom hollow body, a Yamaha electronic keyboard, and a good percussionist on the Cajon who also plays fiddle and mandolin.  My bassist is from Lionel Hampton, and I’ll be using the house sound system for my singing.  If you’re for any reason in the neighborhood, feel free to cruise by.  I mean – don’t bust your back or break any laws, but you know where I’ll be.

Unknowns

I feel like I’m a little too stuffy when I write in this blog.  I keep a personal journal online that is password-protected so only friends can read it.  Naturally, I’m less self-conscious when I write there.  Somehow, the idea that anybody at all from anywhere can read what I’m posting here makes me just uptight enough, that I suspect it affects my writing style for the worse.

So here’s what I wrote in my personal journal last night:

Unknowns

My depression lifted temporarily when I realized that I know exactly what to do from the bottom of p.53 forward, for several pages to come. Then I veered off and corrected that part of The Royal Rhapsody that bugged me. I hear another part that bothers me in the same section. All these annoyances have to do with a sense of something dropping out, some kind of eerie ethereal support that is created by the string section, or other instruments capable of extending tones over a number of measures.

But enough of my stuff. I noticed I felt extremely focused while working on the Rhapsody, so I might go back to that. Depression and anxiety seemed far from me. That music production process is just something that rivets me to it. With the script, even knowing what to do, I still rack my brains out over little things – tiny little mini-unknowns that crop up in the midst of the Known.

Bottom line is I’m dog tired. Not sure why. Ran really well yesterday, and obviously faster than usual with the Nanospikes. Maybe that’s a factor. Whatever, I saved a cup for the morning and I’m gonna crash out after a snack. I’ll run in the morning, and probably have a decent day tomorrow. These three day weekends sort of throw the Sunday night vibe onto Mondays. Can’t wait till morning.

10:47 p.m. – 2017-01-16

If you like that style or manner of delivery better than the way I’m writing here, feel free to let me know.  Or, if it appears to be the same style, or even a worse manner of presentation, clue me in.   I won’t be offended, though I can’t promise you I’ll be able to readily change.  We O.G’s have a tendency not to flex as easily as we did back in the Day.