I have a hard time letting life, myself be a work in progress. It is why I write songs, beginnings, middles and ends in three to five minutes. Get in, get to the point, get out.
I have used music my whole life for company, companionship, comfort, to get through fantastic loss, mental, spiritual, physically brutal trauma. I have also learned how to let music transmute all of that into something useful to me.
I moved to Northern California twenty four years ago, with a sleeping bag, a small suit case and three hundred dollars, after dropping out of Emerson College. I met my husband Matt when I was twenty two at the school we both still work at. I quit drinking at 25 and recorded my first EP at 30. These were all game changers, victories for me.
In all things that mean anything to me I do my best.
I have actively sought a career in music for much of my adult life, though honestly, with the exception of the love of writing, creating and recording the music I have no idea why. Let's say that I find the life style unappealing. I hate most bars, I don't go to a festival unless I am backstage. I don't like most hotel rooms, or road food. I need sleep. I don't care about someones last gig, or their upcoming one, how many tickets they sold, or who they are opening up for, and I don't expect anyone else to give a fuck about mine. I am not a fan of the hustle or the pride in music culture to live in hustle.
I find it relieving to say all that out loud.
This is a wierd way to feel right now, as I have written and recorded the best record of my life. I think I will or at least could have real commercial success this time around and from where I sit right now I could care less.
Maybe this is what letting go of something i've yearned for looks like. Maybe this is what ego crucifixtion feels like in 2018. Maybe take it or leave it is the gateway state of mind I have been waiting for and a path to follow from here. Maybe I was supposed to become a shrink.
Maybe this wasn't even my dream. Maybe music is just another part of my tool kit. Maybe music was Grace's way of giving me therapy without paying for it- wait, I take that back- I have spent at least a downpayment on a house making music. Maybe being a professional artist was never the point.
I may not care about fame or the highlife, but I do care about music. I care about art. Maybe that is enough information right now. Maybe something really cool is being tailor made for me. Maybe staying true to yourself no matter what the path is what I am doing. Maybe i'll make my money back and break even. Maybe i'll become self supporting through my music. Maybe I won't. Right now it feels good not to care either way. Work in progress.
On an animated note. If you live in the Bay Area for long enough, life connects you, as it has me through varying syncroncities and circumstances, with folks who are connected with some of the larger chocolate factories. (Skywalker, Twitter, Google etc.) This weekend for me, I got through the gates of Pixar to see a friends and family viewing of The Incredibles 2. It was one of the few times I wished I had a kid whose mind would be blown by the life sized lego Buzz Lighyear and Woody, but I got over it fast and decided to grab Woody's package.