I am sitting in a recording studio. Listening to a friend solidify a little guitar introduction to a podcast he is working on. The music instills a sense of homecoming. A coming home. Watching his fingers dance on the fret board and the strings pinging together to create a harmoniously structured twenty second lick reminds me of coming home, a remembering of event, places, people, noises, smells, all things that help you orient yourself to being ‘back.’
Yet still being filled with a quiet contentment of moving forward. Of learning and growing.
The notes are perfect together. I wish I knew the English language better than I do, then I could describe the feeling that I have now. Peace. Contentment. Not good enough.
I am visual. I use images, I see images when I hear something, when I smell something. Memories are photographs, memories are snapshots.
Snapshot: small eight by eight recording room.
Snapshot: music playing through muffled headphones in front of me.
Snapshot: sitting on the floor looking at my close friend and feeling like this is it. This is what I am doing. I am carefree. I am not worrying about a job, or about the next morning. I am content. I am comfortable sitting here listening.
A coming home. A fourth year at a college where I feel connected, where I have found family. Where I have loved, where I have been hurt, where I have taken my shoes off and wiggled my toes in the soft grass. The musty smell of stacks of books, sitting and waiting. Home. A coming back to.
Music incites conversation. Paintings conjure words and descriptions, they move, they shake, they quiet and hush, they contemplate. Music and paintings are one in the same. The process to create is the same. The process is a process. It isn’t a vending machine: let me put in the dime and get a song back!
Redeem&Record is trying to start that conversation. The one that we have in our head. That goes back and forth with itself. It is providing a space for words to be exchanged, to understand and to connect.
It's worth joining the conversation.
Yet still being filled with a quiet contentment of moving forward. Of learning and growing.
The notes are perfect together. I wish I knew the English language better than I do, then I could describe the feeling that I have now. Peace. Contentment. Not good enough.
I am visual. I use images, I see images when I hear something, when I smell something. Memories are photographs, memories are snapshots.
Snapshot: small eight by eight recording room.
Snapshot: music playing through muffled headphones in front of me.
Snapshot: sitting on the floor looking at my close friend and feeling like this is it. This is what I am doing. I am carefree. I am not worrying about a job, or about the next morning. I am content. I am comfortable sitting here listening.
A coming home. A fourth year at a college where I feel connected, where I have found family. Where I have loved, where I have been hurt, where I have taken my shoes off and wiggled my toes in the soft grass. The musty smell of stacks of books, sitting and waiting. Home. A coming back to.
Music incites conversation. Paintings conjure words and descriptions, they move, they shake, they quiet and hush, they contemplate. Music and paintings are one in the same. The process to create is the same. The process is a process. It isn’t a vending machine: let me put in the dime and get a song back!
Redeem&Record is trying to start that conversation. The one that we have in our head. That goes back and forth with itself. It is providing a space for words to be exchanged, to understand and to connect.
It's worth joining the conversation.
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