Since it is two in the morning here, I realize this is probably the worst possible time to be here expecting any sort of answer.
I’ve noticed there’s an “evening group” which is usually here from about 7:00 to midnight or so, and then there’s (as Douglas Adams might put it), a “long, dark tea-time of the soul” for a handful of hours until the “morning group” arrives around 5:00 or so.
Because of internet connectivity issues, I missed the usual evening time-shift and didn’t get here til about midnight or so.
This means my insomniac self mostly has an inactive page for most of the night.
Originally I was going to post something fun and uplifting (Alan briefly got to see the cartoon I posted), but changed my mind. I’m in too much of a dark mood to do a cartoon today.
Anyway, here is what I will say to the cyber-emptiness that is echoing loudly in all directions:
I was in bed all day, back to dealing with the health stuff. At this moment my back hurts so bad I can barely sit up, and I am waiting for the pain meds to work.
As long as I was here without a connection for awhile, I decided to make use of the time by installing the new composition/notation software on the laptop. It worked fine, and I spent a few hours composing. It was done in a surprisingly short amount of time, probably because I had no other distractions.
If I can get here in time tomorrow evening, I’ll think of posting it for the “evening group”. I was able to convert it from WAV to mp3 using some free online converter which probably now has the legal rights to my entire DNA sequence. (I didn’t read all the fine print before I clicked the “OK” box.)
I go through this extremely-paranoid, thin-skinned phase when I’ve just finished writing music (or making any other kind of artwork). I make sure the piece fits my unrealistically perfectionist standards, then I almost cringe as I send it to a few friends so they can hear it.
If they don’t answer, I start to panic, wondering if they hated it and are just too nice to tell me so.
Fun fact: So far I have shared tonight’s new composition with 38 people. So far absolutely none of them have said anything about it at ALL. Feel that awkward uncomfortable cloud hanging in the air? Yeah! That’s my slowly blossoming panic. If I let it grow for long enough it smells like desperation and decay, with a side hint of raspberries and dust.
See? It’s perfectly fine that that made no sense, because you are all in bed sleeping right now anyway.