what it's like not looking back for real

I won't open another chapter about "coincidence or causation" which kind of is present at 96% of the entries here anyway. But it somehow happened as it happens with stuff you have been wanting to do for so long, that the very last pre-departure days suddenly see it all come true. Ok, part of it. But you got the point.

Fact is, amongst other things, I got into a recording studio (love them, love them lots). Does it mean anything? Not really. It was fun, brought up memories from when I could have done the music thing for real, made me realize once again that I do want and do need company for this and.. it was so great to get it out of me. Record it, hear it and see it from aside. I miss music. It's quite magical, the very moment when the last chord is still strumming, you suddenly notice how electricity-loaded the air is, you see the sound operator guy holding back his breath on the other side of the screen and.. yep, it's done. It's all gonna be good. We are all gonna be good. I do love recording studios. And if life's gonna want it, this wasn't the last time over in one.

Back to the topic about sharing, before I pass to all that being-in-America-stuff. This is one of the sad songs that aren't sad at all, some sort of my hymnal for the transition from "there" to "here" meaning not only the geographical scope and getting over the pond. Those last two years are gone, they end here. Might seem weird but I finally feel home again. Wherever I am.

 

It's not that much about quality, nor the technique. It's that something genuine in the air, somewhat rough and somewhat faulty, something very human. And well, those songs of desperation.. they happen. They're part of it all. I've sung them enough. I've let go on them. I'm finally "here and now". And good, truly good.