… he loved the song, and will send it around to a couple of musicians. I’m happy again 🙂
Yesterday I sent an mp3 of me singing to a friend. He has never heard me sing. He didn’t answer me.
Objectively I know the song isn’t badly done. I’m not saying I’m great or anything, just that it is not plain bad.
So, I’m wondering what his silence means. Does he hate it? Is he indifferent? Doesn’t he think I might like to hear back from him after doing something as scary to me as that?
I’m a bit worried. This is why I don’t sing anymore. Can’t take the agony of not knowing if what I do is interesting or not.
Apart from all that, this guy is supposed to be my friend. I think he is handling this kind of badly. But then again, maybe I’m overreacting. Ok, I KNOW I’m overreacting. And obsessing too much over something very small.
Anyway, next time I send something to someone, I’ll send it to someone I know will appreciate it. Like my best friend. Or my dad (who thinks I’m some kind of genius, and we all know THAT is not true).
I’ll show you as well one of these days. I actually feel like it. That puts me in a good mood. For a long time I haven’t wanted to sing for anyone.
Consoling myself with the wonderful Lisa Hannigan. Beautiful being, lovely music.
Printing pages. Will read and edit. Toss away what cannot be used.
I’m getting ready to send my text to a friend. She’s getting published this fall, which is great. She’s been asking me to send her stuff for a long time, but I just know she’ll hate it. I’ve read her stuff, and commented on it. She’s brilliant. She wants to return the favor. Once I’ve sent the pages I will probably go to bed, and not get up for two weeks. But I know I need to do it. After she’s told me she hates it I can throw it away and start something new.
I won’t get anywhere if I don’t let people read my stuff, I know.
Drinking tea. Watching spring evolve. Listening to Donald Fagen, Laura Nyro, Bach. Candle lit. It’s all fine…