I ask myself sometimes a very simple question. And yet seemingly very complicated as well. “Why do I play music”? The answer I find is not really that easy to describe. I love music. I feel music. My guitar resonates deep inside me when I play. But I'm also driven in obsessive ways as well. Like there's something inside me wanting to burst out. Something I can almost grab ahold of and yet not quite. I could say I'm almost haunted by the need to be musically expressed.
Certainly, it is not an easy thing to do to write your own music. I can struggle with lyrics and oftentimes welcome the idea that someone else would contribute their lyrics and or ideas so I can just put them all together and create something hopefully beautiful and satisfying. And yet the struggle also awakens what sits just below the surface. A felt sense of wanting to be seen. Be heard. Be known.
There is a catharsis happening. I know that. Something is wanting to be birthed. And so, I pick up my guitar and put on my two capos that create an open tuning sound and I then let the natural resonance of the strings and wooden acoustic guitar stir the rustlings deep inside of me.
And as I get older the struggle to find my voice is slowly giving way to a greater joy of sharing my muse. And if there is indeed a second act in life then let it be this. My music. My expression. My joy. My creativity. And if I can touch just one person out there with my expression then maybe that can be enough. 