(no subject)
feeling immensely content. yesterday i lay on my bed in the afternoon, a beautiful breeze wafting through the window, the waning sunlight illuminated the curtains. I looked around my room, now with all my own belongings in there. everything where i wanted it, where i needed it, and everything just mine. my own space, my own time.
the night before i was searching through what was james' study and will soon be my study- when i've organised the remainder of my things in there. i was looking first for school stuff, and came across a storage container full of random peices of paper, notes, shoeboxes full of memento's and keepsakes. there was a pile of pages of chords and lyrics, songs i had written years ago. i had completely forgotten about them. i am not sure if they are great songs, but they were important in creating my writing style and they were a joy to play. i havent yet had a chance to play them again, i plan on doing that this afternoon, but just reading through the lyrics and hearing my voice in my head was amazing. my voice, changed only very slightly, but the intonations and intimations it made back then...well, i felt transported in time.
i couldn't believe i had forgotten these songs which would have proved useful and possibly, highly fruitful if i'd used them when recording with mike, or trying to write new stuff for sour peach hearts. they would even have been fantastic if i had ever had the confidence to perform acoustically like i always wanted. i did perform one song at an open mic night, but i wasnt prepared properly and hadnt rehearsed enough, and i was singing a song that i'd written about a boy i'd met at the venue previously. his band played there (they werent very good, but he was cute) and i'd already attempted to get his number, and gave him mine, but he'd told me he had just come out of a serious relationship. that didn't deter me, i was going to wear that boy down and make him so hot for me that he wouldn't be able to resist. on this particular night, when i performed my song, his band was about to leave. he hung around to listen to my song, and it made me nervous. and then i came up to a part where i, for some reason, came out of the chorus and started singing the next verse an octave higher than i had written it. the second part of the verse was originally an octave higher anyway, and i realised i was about to attempt to sing something TWO OCTAVES higher than i had ever sung it before, and it bombed. it was bad. i went back into the chorus humiliated, but with my voice full of angst, (which probably helped a little) and the boy allowed his friends to pull him out of the venue. i never went back to that bar, and i never performed at an open mic night again.
in the storage box i aso found a pile of photo's, which i had stuck onto a large peice of cardboard and hung on the wall in melbourne. when we moved i painstakingly pulled the photo's off the cardboard, most of them reduced to glossy sides, with the photo-backing paper still stuck on the cardboard. i took these photos and put them into a photo album, which also brought back memoruies- amazingly, as though photos were created for this ver purpose! but i looked at my photos and who i used to be and i realised, i really like that girl. despite the fact she was immeasurably insecure, needy, had low self esteem and was almost certainly dangerously despressed, she was really cool, and on the way to becoming a really awesome person. she was really creative, eloquent, fun, generous- i'm sort of hoping that she's still around somewhere, and that now i could maybe be her...now that i don't seem to be so insecure, needy and depressed. though the self esteem may still need some work. thats one thing i never let go of- ability to appear as though i think my owns self is valuable and fabulous.
the night before i was searching through what was james' study and will soon be my study- when i've organised the remainder of my things in there. i was looking first for school stuff, and came across a storage container full of random peices of paper, notes, shoeboxes full of memento's and keepsakes. there was a pile of pages of chords and lyrics, songs i had written years ago. i had completely forgotten about them. i am not sure if they are great songs, but they were important in creating my writing style and they were a joy to play. i havent yet had a chance to play them again, i plan on doing that this afternoon, but just reading through the lyrics and hearing my voice in my head was amazing. my voice, changed only very slightly, but the intonations and intimations it made back then...well, i felt transported in time.
i couldn't believe i had forgotten these songs which would have proved useful and possibly, highly fruitful if i'd used them when recording with mike, or trying to write new stuff for sour peach hearts. they would even have been fantastic if i had ever had the confidence to perform acoustically like i always wanted. i did perform one song at an open mic night, but i wasnt prepared properly and hadnt rehearsed enough, and i was singing a song that i'd written about a boy i'd met at the venue previously. his band played there (they werent very good, but he was cute) and i'd already attempted to get his number, and gave him mine, but he'd told me he had just come out of a serious relationship. that didn't deter me, i was going to wear that boy down and make him so hot for me that he wouldn't be able to resist. on this particular night, when i performed my song, his band was about to leave. he hung around to listen to my song, and it made me nervous. and then i came up to a part where i, for some reason, came out of the chorus and started singing the next verse an octave higher than i had written it. the second part of the verse was originally an octave higher anyway, and i realised i was about to attempt to sing something TWO OCTAVES higher than i had ever sung it before, and it bombed. it was bad. i went back into the chorus humiliated, but with my voice full of angst, (which probably helped a little) and the boy allowed his friends to pull him out of the venue. i never went back to that bar, and i never performed at an open mic night again.
in the storage box i aso found a pile of photo's, which i had stuck onto a large peice of cardboard and hung on the wall in melbourne. when we moved i painstakingly pulled the photo's off the cardboard, most of them reduced to glossy sides, with the photo-backing paper still stuck on the cardboard. i took these photos and put them into a photo album, which also brought back memoruies- amazingly, as though photos were created for this ver purpose! but i looked at my photos and who i used to be and i realised, i really like that girl. despite the fact she was immeasurably insecure, needy, had low self esteem and was almost certainly dangerously despressed, she was really cool, and on the way to becoming a really awesome person. she was really creative, eloquent, fun, generous- i'm sort of hoping that she's still around somewhere, and that now i could maybe be her...now that i don't seem to be so insecure, needy and depressed. though the self esteem may still need some work. thats one thing i never let go of- ability to appear as though i think my owns self is valuable and fabulous.