written about 4 years ago

Since the release of my album, I have had so many people congratulate me and say nice things about how proud they are of me or simply acknowledge the amount of work involved in releasing an album. It’s such a funny feeling to have that conversation over and over again because it’s not like we’re sitting around a table, chatting about a meal that we’ve all just enjoyed. Having people engage with my album seems to be a theoretical discussion because I am not (physically, tangibly) a part of their experience listening to my album. When they chat with me about it, it’s not while either of us are listening to the music or experiencing its effects or even staring at the .wav files. It all seems a bit disconnected. When referring to “my album” it’s like referring to some hypothetical, cloud of a product that’s somewhere, ambiguously out there, making it seem as if people are congratulating me on an idea that has no matter and fills no firm place in time.

Yet, the strangest feeling is the sense that it is a “finished” but “just begun” kind of product. I’m done my work - it’s out there, ready for listeners to consume, but I cannot say when or if anyone will consume it, so it’s still very much in-process in terms of its ability to influence or have value to anyone but myself. 

No physical CD copies exist, I have received no payment for any downloads, no iTunes ratings, no Grammy, no record deal, no Q interview. It has yet to produce fruit. So far, it just existsAt the end of an iTunes search; attached to a handwritten download code; paused in time, waiting for someone to hit that little play button on their keyboard and bring it into reality… waiting for someone to give it space and time. 

I can feel, at the back of my little creative heart, a rising plea that someone would just “let me out; allow me to exist”.

And it’s got me thinking about how things come alive. Got me thinking about the intangibles that don't yet have metrics I can calculate. Got me thinking about what else is standing still in the universe, waiting for someone to press play.