M√ļsica

I started watching the recordings for another five-day songwriting workshop that a family friend is doing this week. I watched the first video at 11:00 this morning, and glanced st the homework front he next two days before joining the noon live video for today. I’ve done one of these workshops before – that’s what got me those first several songs earlier this summer – so I wasn’t too worried about participating today without having finished the other videos yet. I just followed the guidelines from Monday’s video, and from the snippets I’d watched of Tuesday and Wednesday for the homework for each, and I was ready for today.

While the basic process is rather the same, the approach and specifics were different this time around, so I embraced the opportunity for something new. We were told to find a specific song for inspiration, after doing some topic-finding and lyric-writing work; a song that held a comparable space to the one we wanted our own song to hold.

My song? “When There Was Me And You”, as sung by Vanessa Hudgens in High School Musical. And the topic I had chosen and the lyrics I was writing that had this song somehow be appropriate for portraying the write musical feeling? Overcoming emotional and sexual abuse. Kind of an odd combination, don’tchya say?

Nonetheless, it all turned out beautifully. Hours later, after many, many breaks to go do other things and to allow stuff to sit or to mull, I had a completed song, recorded and shared with the world of my social media friends. And, what’s more, I went back to the piano just about ten minutes ago, and I played through the song again – and I remembered how it all went, and I loved the sang (two very good and rather important signs of song completion).

I sent off the audio recording to my small list of private listeners – you could call them the in club of my music-writing – got a bit of feedback (positive – woohoo!), and then shared the video recording of my playing and singing online. We only were supposed to select five people to hear our songs so far as part of our homework tonight… I had forgotten about that until just now… guess I did much more than five… haha… that’s silly.

Anyway, I shared it with four people privately, and I am planning to play it live for a student of mine tomorrow morning, so I guess that handles the five intentional shares, as well as an open share with my somewhat large but private world on social media.

Well… this has felt really, really good today. I even screamed just before showering a bit ago, I was so filled with excitement and energy that I needed to release in order to begin to relax for the night. It was a very, very good and satisfying scream. Man… these songs just feel right. I’ve been wanting to write novels, yet, when I set myself to work for only a few hours on a song, one just kind of evolves like the chia seeds in the chia pet commercials (“Ch-ch-ch-chia!”). Perhaps today was an opportunity for me to see how ideas that get in the way of a different story I want to use for writing my novel, those ideas can go into a song – they can be heard that way. Then, I can go back to writing my novel’s story, no longer with the former distraction of a different story asking to be told. Today’s song topic was definitely one of those ideas…

Hmm… interesting.

Anyway, I’m off to read some young adult fun and then pass out hardcore (Please…).

P.S. My song doesn’t sound almost anything like Vanessa Hudgens’ song, by the way – it started with the same foundation of chords, but quickly developed into a very different song. If I hadn’t told you they were connected, you likely never would have noticed. ūüėČ

Post-a-day 2020

The Dick Pic

Women just about everywhere hate them, yet single women just about everywhere with digital means of communication cannot escape them…

They are The Dick Pics.

Why do men seem to want to send them to us women?

After much contemplation and casual discussion, a girlfriend of mine and I hit something that made a lot of sense: Guys would love to receive the reciprocal from a woman, and so they somehow believe that 1)women will appreciate their offering theirs free of charge or request, and 2)it will be a way for them to receive the response photo from the women receiving their photo.

It makes sense.

Except for the fact that women don’t typically like the dick pics… like at all…., and they openly say so to the public.

Yet men keep doing it.

It is even illegal in some places now, to provide an unsolicited photo of one’s penis.

I have never received a dick pic, actually.

But I’m not on dating sites, for one thing.

And I also wouldn’t be interested in dating anyone who might consider a dick pic to be a possibility period, let alone a good idea.

So, while a small part of me feels like I am missing out by having not ever received one of these photos, a much greater part of me is grateful for not having to have that in my life.

If and when I have a partner in my life, I can see all the up-close and personal genitalia I want – until that time, no photos, please… and thank you.

Tonight, I could have remedied this small situation of minor FOMO*, as a distant friend of mine reached out, telling me that he was in the mood, and could he send me a photo?

That wasn’t the typical request regarding photos… usually they ask for a photo of us…, so, I asked what he meant, and he replied:

ūüćÜūüď∑?

I’m in the mood

A long messaging conversation ensued, in the middle of which, I reached out to a close male friend of mine for guidance as to how to handle the situation.

Apparently, this guy just likes sharing himself with women who enjoy seeing him (specifically his genitalia) – he gets a rise out of it.

And he admits this openly and fully.

And, while I adamantly denied the dick pic request, I thanked him for his frankness and for his asking me for permission – the two are rare, and they were much appreciated.

He said he didn’t understand why a guy ever would send such a photo unsolicited and without permission, and was surprised at the idea that they nonetheless do it often.

Whatever the case, we ended up messaging about other things, once it was fully settled that I did not want what he had to offer to me tonight, and it was actually really, really cool.

I actually feel like we have more of a friendship now, because of it… and especially because of our openness and honesty with one another.

At any given moment, I could have gotten all offended.

But I didn’t… I have him space to be himself, and accepted his honesty… as I said to myself earlier, he was genuinely just asking for help.

Just because it was not a common request or one with which I was very comfortable did not mean that I needed to freak out or grow angry or grossed out with him.

It was rather refreshing, then, dealing with pure honesty in such a situation.

It was like the opposite of an affirmative yes, and in the best of ways… an affirmative no, in a way.

So, I still have no dick pic, and I am totally happy with that… totally…

And I am also grateful for the upfront honesty and no-nonsense of this guy tonight – it was awesome. ūüôā

*For those who are not aware, it means Fear Of Missing Out.

Post-a-day 2020

Trustworthiness

I think it is important that we either always remain alert or always remain fully willing and able to become acutely alert at any moment in life.

Sometimes, situations are perfectly fine and safe to a point, and then w ended to be alert and wary – “Proceed with caution,” our mind must tell us.

But how often are we unwilling to become alert in a situation?

If things have been fine for so long, do we become somewhat ‘immune’ to any concern that may arise, due to the fact that nothing bad has happened so far?

Do we forget that anything can change, despite something’s having been the same for as long as we can remember?

I think this is a common situation that females can run into in relationships with males… he has been reliable and totally safe so far, so long as I have known him…, and so I miss seeing those spots where he suddenly is pushing limits, and I don’t notice things fully until something really big has happened in a way I had never hoped for things to happen… possibly something very bad… Do we give the benefit of the doubt for too long sometimes?… Do we feel guilty for turning our senses on full alert, and so force ourselves to ignore them, convince ourselves that the warning bells aren’t really there, but are just in our minds?

I think it ultimately is important for us, if not to be always on alert, always to be willing to be on full alert, and in any situation.

And I don’t mean merely females, here – I mean all people.

Do you know what I mean?

Post-a-day 2019

And Unexpected Story From… Somewhere

Tonight, for whatever reason (aside from the part where one thought links loosely to the next, those tiny threads of ideas drawing¬†you quickly along the ever-unexpected path with¬†them, until¬†you eventually find yourself miles from the original thought, wondering how on Earth you got there), I was reminded of something I wrote a while back. ¬†As I mentioned to my friend when I sent it to her, it is rather messy, and it just kind of came out of me. ¬†One day, the¬†words were just in my head, as though urging me to write them down, and so I did really quickly… It was almost like an ‘I have to do it now’ experience.

I have various theories as to how the story came to me, as well as to why my mind wanted me to write it down on paper (yes, the original is with paper and pen, not computer), but I find them unnecessary to include here, as none of them was present when I actually had the story pouring out of me that odd morning (odd, due to this near-overwhelming necessity to write this story, which had never quite happened to me in such a way until that day).

Anyway, it is sad – dreadfully sad to me, anyway – and it is terrible, and it is a miniature story that asked me to write it down, and somehow got back into my head tonight to get me to share it with the world (well, whatever portion of it will cross this weblog posting, at least). ¬†Enjoy… or whatever… you know…

 


“No,” declared Jessica, exasperated, “I’m not going to call him.”

Yet, even as she spoke, she knew deep down that she would be with him again. ¬†So she wouldn’t call him…, but she’d said nothing about texting. ¬†Or his calling her.

Soon enough, perhaps in a matter of hours, she’d be with him again. ¬†And then, in a matter of minutes, she’d be lying there alone, feeling gross, almost wanting to hurl. ¬†Or else hurl something… he wouldn’t hold her, no matter how she wished it. ¬†He never did… ¬†But, for a few moments, she would feel the pressure of him resting on her chest, and it almost would feel as though it were intentional, as though there were someone – right here and now – who wanted to be with her, who cared for her, who loved her.

Though she knew it wasn’t so.

“This is so messed up,” she would say to him… ¬†And she would mean it.

And yet she couldn’t stop herself.

He was in need, and she could help.  Besides, she had been curious in the first place.  Now she knew.  Perhaps that was a good thing.  If nothing else.  And an icy feeling told her there was nothing else good about it all.

Jessica wouldn’t see how he only appeared to be in need – she was too trusting of him and his word; she had looked up to him for too long to question what he expressed to her. ¬†And so, in her time of extreme need for love, she would leave the love of her friends to go to him, and be robbed of what little she still had, knowingly sacrificing her own happiness and love to help, to serve, to please another.


 

Post-a-day 2017