Beginning Again, Already

When I released In The Dust, I thought I would take a week or two off before starting my next album. I ended up starting it three days later. Even though I still doubt my abilities at times, I cannot doubt the fact that I need music. If I don’t have it, it feels like I’m starting to hollow out, and the stresses and uncertainties of my day leave me feeling brittle. I need a ukulele, a guitar, and a lovely seventy-year-old, slightly out of tune piano.

It’s exciting to begin again, editing lyrics and writing new songs. I’ve already been dreaming of harmonies, of which songs I’ll ask my family and friends to sing in, what I’ll write for my violin and piano, and the mad dash I’ll have to finish this by the end of March. Already I’ve been set writing by strange dreams, particularly lovely, cold days, and the things going on in my small, beautiful world, south of Seattle.

The next few months are going to be a little crazy—late nights and early mornings, with ink stains down my left arm, callouses on my fingers, and shaking hands. But I’m going to do it. Beginning a work of creation invigorates me, and makes my days better.

An Album? I Must Be Crazy.

I’ve written and edited a small EP, which is currently up on Bandcamp. It’s flawed, imperfect, and a very humble beginning for me.

I began teaching myself the ukulele last March, the guitar this last September, and only grew into my voice a year ago. I’ve played around with composing on the piano for years, but it’s only been recently that I started writing songs. It used to be that my music would only express those thoughts and feelings that were wordless—translating them into lyrics was and is a hard process, but also a wonderful one.

Every song has started out as a poem, usually jumping off from one single line, slowly growing into something of its own. The EP is called In The Dust, and the songs are: David, As It Seems, My Poor Foolish Heart, The Snow, and Good December.

It’s terribly exciting and frightening that they’re out there for anyone to listen to, when only my family and close friends have heard me play! I am so conscious of all the mistakes I can hear, the off-key notes and places of awkward playing. But the point of my putting this online is not for me panic over what I did wrong, it’s to share what I feel honestly and begin something.

This is part one of my anthology.