Saturday, January 7, 2012

Volume III: "Into The Cold Quiet"

It is so difficult to play in the quiet.  Silence - languid, natural, holy - is broken only by other natural forces, or human interference.  When you are on the unnatural side of the fence, things get weird, and stay that way.  We played loudly and extensively without much consideration for our surroundings for many years, and we have the albums and muscles to show for it.  In the long shadow of summer, we are now paying back our former neighbours - or are they paying us back?  We recorded our first album in a cabin and the silence in the woods was like warm clay in our white-noise-damaged ears.  Sitting on our rooftop between takes on a cold still lake, I felt a tragic post-modern pain in my ear drums.  Silence.  We went back and recorded another album there a year later, had some more natural realizations, and then forged ahead at drilling ourselves to write, record, be inspired, and make art that nobody sees.  During those few weeks alone in the forest, depriving ourselves of sleep to adhere to self-imposed deadlines, our music overpowering us, I began to discover what I am meant to be.  Years later, by the sea, I discovered where I am meant to be.  Wherever I am.

I ran off into obscurity when I was 18 and have spent the last decade meandering my way out.  I figured I was an artistic expeditionary.  That's why I skipped out on my formal education to spend hours alone pouring over old literature in university libraries and writing verses that have never seen the crack of dawn.  That's why people of this sort don't keep many friends.  That's why we struggle to find the right medium for our message.   When there is more than one message, we risk drowning in media and must struggle to keep our heads above water so that we can go on learning and giving.  We go through bouts of socialization and never really connect with anybody closely.  We give and they take, and it's rarely measured or balanced.   Since I've found the pathway out of adversity I am following it, but like the silence above the trees it almost hurts.  It is too pure.  Too simple.  I rest assured with the knowledge that in the great scheme of things I know very little, but it's tough when I've got such a strong feeling tugging on my heart.  It says, 'trust yourself,' and I take its advice.  Today is another day, the same as yesterday and different from tomorrow.
The future is the only thing in front of us.