This song is actually a couple of years old now, but I never posted it. It was written and recorded just days after David Bowie died, and a few of the lyrics were pulled from some of his songs as fragments for me to play with.
It's hard to believe how quickly five years can go by, and yet how distant the events in that time can seem. But that's how long it's been since I abandoned my habit/project of recording at least one song a month and tossing it into the air to flutter about for a bit and watch where it eventually landed, if it did at all.
Several months ago I rediscovered the benefits of falling asleep to soothing music. It had been a while since I'd done that, but a period of restless nights had prompted me to explore avenues that might offer help. Naturally everyone's tastes and needs are different, but I found that what worked best for me was music that didn't have much in the way of melody, and in fact maintained a prominent drone throughout....
I've been participating on and off in this thing called Disquiet Junto, where a weekly sonic assignment is given and the members of the group set out to make an appropriate recording. It's fun, enlightening, and educational. Anyone can join, so if you feel a hankering, please feel free to.
Here's the second of my meditative experiments this year. The length is what I've been shooting for, I think, in that I'd like the pieces to be long enough for a quick refreshing of the senses, but not too long for a full-blown meditation (tho I'm hoping to go longer eventually anyway).
A new year is always a good time for making plans. One of my plans this year is to spend more time recording music of an ambient/meditative nature to help me along both my spiritual and musical journeys.
Three years ago, I started a project in hopes of inspiring some of my wonderfully musically talented friends to stop waiting for enough money and time to go to an actual studio to record themselves, and instead to take advantage of all the wonderful technology we have now and just do it themselves.
Here's a song created with the neat little iPhone app called Songify. It's not really that hot here yet, I just have a fever from this cold.
Development issues. Communication. Just sketching.
On January 30, 2012, Richard Brautigan would be 77 years old, had he not died 28 years ago at the same age I am today. He was born in 1935, the same year as my father, and I've often marveled that two men of the exact same era could have such different experiences and lives. But the world is a giant ball so we're on the same side after all.