I sit here, feeling the vibration of the music underfoot. The music comes up through the floor at my feet and the art is flowing all around me.
As for me, I have my tool back, the one which I need now, if I even hope to write, the thing closest to breathing. Music is that for those in my basement.
Music. Writing. Creativity. Art. It’s all necessary, to keep this world bright and hopeful. Or to keep me bright and hopeful at least.
I had been feeling the pressure to write, but lately I have been held back by old and dying technology. I managed to keep up with my favourite weekly posts – somehow.
Until last week of course. But last week I finally through my hands up in the air in frustration, when I couldn’t deal with a computer that resisted my attempts. I hated to miss this place, but I just couldn’t do it anymore.
Help arrived just in time.
For all the things I spoke of at the start of this post.
I am thankful I can offer a practice space to my brother and his fellow musicians.
This house is more than capable of providing a place for the kind of sounds of their guitars, drums, and vocals.
For the chance to observe the art they create. They do it all. They write their songs and perform them. They make something, where once there was nothing. That is producing something of beauty, putting something of beauty back into the world, when so much is taken away every day.
For my generous parents.
They see when I am struggling. They gave me back my creativity, when something came along and took it away for a while there.
For my brother’s help.
He knows his stuff and helped me find what I needed.
And for helpful computer guys on the phone.
For a sweet sweet computer.
Apple is not the product for everybody, as it once wasn’t for me, but they make magic and technology becomes my friend and ally once more.
For the slickest of slick Bluetooth keyboards.
This thing is so light and it allows me to write.
For helpful second brother to help me get new technology set up and working.
I needed to get my blogging/journal program to work and that involves a lot of the know-how of which I do not possess.
My brother rescues me from extra headaches. Invaluable.
For learning my second song on the violin.
My brother showed me the first few notes, fairly similar to “Twinkle Twinkle”, which I first learned.
Then I went to my lesson and learned the rest of a second song, a surprise for someone I love coming up soon.
For helpful cab drivers.
I took one to my lesson. He was helpful and gave me his number, eager to take me back when I was done.
It sounded a bit odd at first, but I know there are kind people. I hate to not take them up on that kindness. Perhaps he just desperately needed my business, but I appreciated it.
He described the streets (for my own knowledge, he said) and told me to call for a ride, anytime.
For creativity and a new project in the works.
I had an idea to try doing a Podcast. It will be based around the sibling relationship with my brother.
I had the idea and he went to school to know how to record.
He knew how to set up microphones and record us. It reminded me of all the times he taped us as kids. Of course, pictures meant nothing to him. He never could see them. I wouldn’t see them for long. Recording our voices, our experiences, this was how we passed our time growing up and how we captured memories, now all kept on cassette tapes he still has today.
I want to create something new and maybe it will become something.
Perhaps nobody but me will want to hear the sort of discussions my brother and I have, but maybe, just maybe we can say something, share something, speak to something.
This song was performed live, at an open mic night I went out to Friday evening. It was a beautiful version, but this one is the one I’ve always loved, the one that makes me tear up when I hear it, and of which I love to return to.
“So remember when we were driving, driving in your car. Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk. City lights laid out before us, and your arm felt nice wrapped round my shoulder. And I had a feeling that I belonged.. I had a feeling I could be someone…be someone…be someone.”