Last night I created some experimental pop, avant garde (a little) bedroom pop unexpectedly. I hadn't planned on it but felt that creative compulsion fueled by some simple keyboard meanderings. Dropped them in Reaper and turned them into a dissonant drone while you could still hear the subtle key note shifts. Tossed some D-tuned, capo'd acoustic guitar and instantly penned some stream of consciousness words. The melody was impromptu and quick and the odd little song or maybe it should be called an interlude because that is ultimately what it sounds like is named Silver Fish Eat Serotonin. It feels to me like a lullaby or a kiss goodbye to someone who has departed. I know, sad stuff. It feels apt for a Sad Sunday.
I have had this thing with Sundays. They sometimes feel like the saddest day of the week. Maybe it is because a full work week lies ahead and while I do appreciate and like my day job a ton, it is the simple act of having to work for a company, for someone else that ultimately touches on my deep seated issues of self reliance and doing things my way. When you work for anyone else you have to follow rules and practises after all. Not long ago for several Sundays in a row, as if my psychological clock was set to a panic alarm on Sunday mornings. I am not prone to deep depressions but during this period it felt like I was spiralling downward. That ended but not after some serious consequences.
Looking to work hard at pushing all personal and artistic projects. During this time I may be asking for a lot of support from you all. Letting you know ahead of time because I have trouble asking for help. Hey... if you are needing help in your personal life or your artistic life do not keep it all inside. Tell, ask, hug someone.
Take care--
Robb
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