Here's to a happy and bright 2008! Fill it with love!
/elpd
Sunday, 30 December 2007
Sunday, 16 December 2007
in a church
It seems every time I visit a church there just happens to be a musical event going on. And every time I'm hit with this feeling that I made the wrong choice as a musician. I would've been better off as a choral person; someone in the crowd of a choir. I just think about the atmosphere and the focus that the very room of a church inspires and what it does to me. And I just think of all the things that comes with the pop music business that I wouldn't have to think about: like being pretty, being thin, being in touch with the present, with trends; with that finger constantly held up in the air, or like taking stands for or against things like free downloading or the pondering of the possible death of the cd or other extremely uncreative and uninspiring issues. I'm tired of having or trying to have opinions about everything that's around me. I just want to make music.
Friday, 7 December 2007
About the sky
I'm trying to reconnect to my head again. Now that it's done. The album. It's done.
I can't comprehend, cannot fully accept, that there's no turning back. I thought I was going to lose it at one point there. Really lose it. Perhaps I did. Would've been a bit soothing.
Anyway, I feel myself trying to reach back to that initial stage where it all began. So I grabbed that book my father had lended me about Lars Gullin and I'm slowly remembering. It was the magnitude of a Swedish late summer's night, the way the nightsky looks after a beautiful day. The eternal power in the way the nightsky's always looked. It was the repercussions of harmonies and sounds and feelings within me I wasn't even sure belonged to me. I started to ask myself whether all those things had to do with me having a depression, an identity crisis or was I maybe loooking for God. I thought that for some time. Because I looked to the sky for answers. Aint that original... And then I thought about the notion of looking to the sky and the ancient meaning it seems to have for us humans. And that's how the whole thing got started.
I remember it now.
I can't comprehend, cannot fully accept, that there's no turning back. I thought I was going to lose it at one point there. Really lose it. Perhaps I did. Would've been a bit soothing.
Anyway, I feel myself trying to reach back to that initial stage where it all began. So I grabbed that book my father had lended me about Lars Gullin and I'm slowly remembering. It was the magnitude of a Swedish late summer's night, the way the nightsky looks after a beautiful day. The eternal power in the way the nightsky's always looked. It was the repercussions of harmonies and sounds and feelings within me I wasn't even sure belonged to me. I started to ask myself whether all those things had to do with me having a depression, an identity crisis or was I maybe loooking for God. I thought that for some time. Because I looked to the sky for answers. Aint that original... And then I thought about the notion of looking to the sky and the ancient meaning it seems to have for us humans. And that's how the whole thing got started.
I remember it now.
And now it's done. I accept its flaws and different personalities. After all, that's what I wanted to make this time: something that was too complex to fully grasp. Like standing on a meadow somewhere in Southern Sweden looking up at a late summernight's sky .
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
