So Much to Do, So Little Talent...

I suppose it must be time to do a kind of update on some of the experiments I have done this year. I say 'some' because there are other things I am currently undertaking in that I have not mentioned on the blog - for various reasons that I care not to divulge. Those that know, know and that's really all that needs to be said about that.*

As far as the other, shall we say, more 'acceptable' experiments I am involved with I can quite confidently state I am feeling some kind of changes in the modus operandi of my brain.

Imagine you've discovered a big old steam train from the 19th century. It has laid dormant all this time until this very day that you found it, having served no other purpose than to collect the dust of man and time. Slowly, after painstakingly and laboriously cleaning all of its surfaces, greasing the machinery and nuts and bolts, and filling the engine with coal; you start her up. At first there is no sign of life and the venture seems all but worth it, however after a few more stubborn attempts, she finally begins to splutter and cough some kind of life - at last! It does work. That is how I feel. My brain is very, very slowly churning back to "life"... though it's still very, very foggy in here.

I will start with the bleedingly obvious fact that recently I have been writing a lot more than I usually do  - which I am almost 100% certain is a direct result of the Vitamin D oil I inject into the back of my throat every morning. I've even started to write poetry again which is a pleasant surprise but also painful reminder that I don't have the most positive outlook of the world at the best of times. Slowly but surely my desire to make music is making a resurgence - not that it ever left me, rather it remained a fairly quiet hum in my consciousness in recent years while I was distracted by other things. Now the desire is almost too strong to ignore, almost begging me to come out.

Which is most unfortunate since I am unable to say I can play an instrument, with the exception of a few dismal notes on my penis flute. I'm ashamed to admit that I don't even know where my Theremin even is any more. If there is anything I regret most in this world, it's not learning an instrument at an early age, which I can't say is entirely my fault since I had a rather oppressive childhood. Any form of creative venture had to fit within the confines of my domineering Grandmother - according to her, music was a luxury reserved for listening to in between times when I should be learning academic things instead. Attending music class was a waste of time that could otherwise have been spent on learning religion or history or other such subjects that would make me smart enough to go out into the world armed with an intelligence that would offer me a better life than she had. Even though my grandfather is extremely musical (singer, pianist, accordion player) and often tried to get me to play piano, I wanted to play the drums and if I couldn't play the drums I wasn't going to play anything at all. Stubborn little idiot.

So now I'm stuck in some kind of strange creative/musical purgatory. At last my creative spark has been reignited again and although I have quite a few tunes and songs streaming in my head, I have neither the resources nor capability to manifest them. What a terrible crux I have found myself in.

Perhaps I can use this new-found inspiration and wisdom to learn a new instrument? Or, as per the insistence of The Colonel, should I really sit down and learn this electronic music making program that to me seems like a Pandora's Box I am not clever enough to master? Either way, something's gotta come out.

* Save to say that it would at least seem that my unintentional aptitude to sound mysterious has certainly not altered in recent times.