Been kinda off-schedule with the blog the last few days. Busy, mostly. That, and just didn't feel like I had much to write. There's a Them Crooked Vultures review percolating, but it's just not ready yet.
Quick opinion? Unchanged, it's my favorite album of the year. I've actually been forcing myself not to listen to it all the time, so as to not burn out.
I'm blaming CByrd for the snow. She put up the Christmas decorations last night, and this morning...snow. Coincidence? I think not!
I managed to work on some music over the weekend, but wound up more frustrated than anything. It's my old "it's too simple" response coming up. I had a drum track I had worked out months ago, and really wanted to use for something. More of a dance kinda beat, just to be different.
Yeah, I know, different for the sake of being different isn't the best way to attack things, but I still feel so fucking trapped by the damn drum machine. I feel like I have to jump to patterns that are way outside of my usual in order to force myself to adapt and try something different. It works, kinda, but I tend to fall to much simpler progressions and riffs in those situations.
And, yeah, in my head, I think "so what? Simpler can be fun and good." That's true, I know it, but there's that part of me that feels like I have something to prove. That I need to be as complex as I possibly can be all the time, to impress my musician friends.
I kinda laugh inside when I hear people tell me how confident and sure of myself I appear to be. It's such a sham. I mean, really.
Sure, I'm far more confident in some areas than others. I rarely feel "stuck" in any area of theatre anymore. I know my shit. I may not always be right, but I have valid opinions, and I know it. So, y'know, I'm not afraid to speak my mind.
So, so many other areas of my life, however, ride on the razor's edge of my feeling like I'm just about to fly off the rails and into the inky blackness that hangs out there waiting for us to lose our path. The fact I'm just out here making shit up is obvious to me. I'm painfully, bluntly aware that I have little idea what the hell I'm doing.
...But one soldiers on. I'm 38, and a long time on this path for my life. There's no escape hatch, at this point, I can only hold on and ride it out. I just wish I could see the path a little more clearly right at the moment.