riding the moment
I wrote a song yesterday. I haven’t done this sort of thing in a long time. I woke up with a melody in my head and the words just came, so I flooded them onto a word-processing document until everything resolved. If felt good to do this. It felt like weight being set down. Pressure being released. Aloe rubbed over a burn. It felt the way the creation of art is supposed to feel: a transmutation of feeling into something tangible. Emotion birthed into the material world to be at play. I haven’t touched music since I was young, but throughout life I’ve watched my musician friends in aw. Every time my close friend, Scotland, would work on producing her songs with her sound bar and little sampler, headphones over her ears, I’d watch with undivided curiosity. Just as I did watching my friends in orchestra as a student. I…