In the early hours of New Year's Day 2011, the thought having been nagging me for some weeks, I passed my insomnic hours while visiting in-laws by searching the Internet for a software-based synthesizer that I could afford and with capabilities that would mimic those of the modular synths I fantasized about owning in the 1970s. I stumbled upon ZynAddSubFX, a powerful and free softsynth that I immediately downloaded and began messing about with. After working with it for a few weeks, I found that I had written a piece of music that I actually liked, the first such thing I had done in probably 25 years, and I began giving thought to how I might share this new creative output. It was out of that intention that I started this blog, 10 years ago today and have maintained it, if somewhat irregularly, since.
I'm not sure how clearly I thought about where I would go with blogging or how sustained any efforts might be, but this rebooting of the earlier Circling Crows blog coincided with a series of significant shifts in my life in which I came increasingly to trust myself and my own judgement and to recognize, validate, and address my own needs. Much of my life I'd spent second guessing or subordinating myself to others, particularly those closest to me. Letting music out of me in early '11 -- indeed, fighting to make room for music in my life -- was a powerful concrete step in breaking that pattern, serving as the thin edge of the wedge forcing apart the old barriers to living my life authentically.
The content of this blog reflects and, in part, constitutes those efforts and the changes that have happened as a result. My posts here both express and record where I've been; they are screenshots of the film of my life, capturing past images of whom I saw myself to be as I stumblingly discovered my authenticity. As I age -- and depending on my mindset in the moment I revisit them -- these younger selves can look uncomfortably naive or reassuringly wise to me, but they are here, archived(ish) for good or ill.
Although my initial intention was that this would be a venue for any generally creative pursuits, I tended at first to be even more narrow, eschewing to post anything not directly musically related. Over time, though, I began curating my posts less strictly, putting up memoir-ish stories, the occasional commentary or essay, etc. A few years ago, I was inspired to be more liberal in what and how often I post after reading some excellent thoughts on blogging by a music writer whose output I follow. As a result, I don't think I've necessarily posted more frequently, but I what I have posted has been, again, more myself, freer, and I'm pleased about that.
The responses I received recently to the post sharing my experiences as a violist in my youth and how they affected me since have been both strong and strongly positive. I feel deeply encouraged to take further such risks, not merely to seek more of the support I've already gotten, but because the process of writing, of gathering up wooly thoughts, carding them into cohesive ideas, and spinning their threads into a whole narrative cloth is therapeutic in itself.
Too, my distrust of Facebook remains. While I delight in seeing the expressions and virtual faces of beloved friends pooled together, that pond is just as full of snapping turtles and water nettles as it ever was. I risk wading in only briefly. A blog, as I have discussed elsewhere, can serve the same purpose of updating friends and family and do so much more safely.
I am very grateful to have had this platform for experiment, examination, and expression and to know that there is some small coterie who is interested in it and who participates in it. My thanks to everyone who has taken time to engaged with me here and anyone who may do so in the future. For me, there is no greater gift than to be seen, recognized, and understood; ultimately, that has been my goal here and I expect it to continue to be.