Do you constantly overextend yourself? What do you know of your own capacities? Are you stronger than you think? Perhaps weaker.
Can you hack it?
On behalf of all hacks, I think that you can.
It’s been a year for Washed Memoir in Real Time, or thereabouts. During the course of the work last year, I made notes of progress or challenges faced in the process with the intent of reflecting on all of it at some point…perhaps after a year.
I have plenty to say about the experience, but nothing helpful to you.
I have no metrics to present that might offer insights to your endeavor. There are many words to describe my escapades, follies, foibles and triumphs, but no translations.
One year is fine, but five years…five years would be something. The only advantage we have is belief and persistence. Maybe reflections upon five-years of consistent newsletter publication would have value. Do this for five years and then perhaps your material will equate to one semi-decent record or novel or whatever. Until then, spare me the self-congratulations and continue with the self-flagellation.
Apologies, it’s that inner voice acting up again.
Honestly, try and make your work sustainable. Don’t burn out and don’t give up. Get something out of it that feeds your spirit.
Despite bumps in the road and some self-induced stress—the work is positive for my spirit. My intentions are the same. My progress is measured.
This month’s offering is an instrumental.
It’s an experimental hodgepodge of sound for your amusement and mine. Year one was all about the hits and you know I delivered the goods.
This year (between schemes) I’m likely to present more instrumental offerings like the one contained in this “podcast” audio.
I wish Substack made audio a little more friendly to those publishing music instead of podcasts. But you know what they say, opinions are like podcasts, everyone’s got one.
A few notes on the music.
The beat is attractive due to the subtle groove induced by an analog drum machine through a ring modulator. I got a new synth, but don’t worry, it is not an expensive one. It’s a practical addition to what is becoming a semi-modular set-up. The jamming process is fun and therapeutic and sampling jams via Ableton Live helps me create whatever Frankenstein I like.
This particular Frankenstein was fed in part by picking up an instrument that I have not for quite some time—the violin.
The intrigue of plugging a violin to the 2600 was too much to ignore. I turned my head westerly to the rectangular black instrument case staring at me from the corner of the room. As it has for years.
As a small child, my first musical instrument lesson was a violin lesson. It’s possible I mentioned wanting to play the violin at age 5. There are doubts about whether I expressed this of my own volition or if it was cajoled via leading interrogations by my mother. Regardless, the case is cold. The violin lessons were booked and the tiny violin was rented. Surely, a child prodigy was in the making.
What does it mean to be special and why do some think your value is measured against misinterpreted ideas of what other people are doing in the world?
I had one lesson. After a short suburban drive, we arrived at a suburban house. The stairs were open and the living room was sunken. The colors were exceedingly gray, beige, and brown; but an inviting living space. The initial lesson required some conversation between the instructor and my mother, at which time, I played with the dog.
She employed the Suzuki method. The entirety of lesson number one focused on bowing. Not “bow”, like the tool used to vibrate violin strings; “bow”, like “take a bow, the show is over, say goodbye”. This would seem straightforward, even for a five-year-old, but I wasn’t very good at it and had to be repeatedly instructed. The dog was more interesting.
After that, I didn’t touch a violin for 20 years.
And then I did.
As a more ambitious 20 something with a great teacher, I took to the Suzuki method and this time no bows were required. But I did need a bow.
The impetus for taking up the fiddle was a mixture of curiosity, viewing The Red Violin, wanting to contribute to the sound of my band, and the secret ingredient: stupidity.
Somehow, I thought I could pick up the instrument and play adequately for actual audiences within a short amount of time. Furthermore, the instrument seemed like a gateway to a more sustainable music career. Violin players for rock bands were in demand at the time and I do not say that jokingly. Also, as a hack, the musical theory and ear training would help decrease my levels of hackitude and increase my levels of aptitude.
Not bad ideas, but the violin is a formidable foe and my inner hack is strong.
I went on to improve and learn some basics. I played violin on some stages and wrote parts for recordings. The recordings were heavily aided by my instructor. Then and now, my lackluster intonation makes recording difficult. In addition the to sparse loops of violin in “Flor de Sal”, you can hear a little violin in this very nice EAOD track:
After EAOD, I stopped playing and practicing the violin. Maybe that sacrifice went along with the loss of the band.
My violin was purchased by my encouraging mother, who is the part of the reason I feel like I can do anything, even without reason—and who encourages me to pursue endeavors at 5 or at 25 or, soon, 45.
Keep fighting like grandfathers in the great war.
Your pal,
RS
ps. I’d prefer not to link to Spotify and am unsure about putting anything up on streaming services going forward, but these Miter songs from 2023 are available on all streaming services.
Flor de Sal