someday soon
Last week, I posted about sea glass and how it can serve as a reminder to slow down.
Some of you may not know this about me, but I’m also a singer/songwriter. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything new. However, with my health issues now solved, and having been thinking a lot lately about time and the choices we make surrounding it, a new song emerged while I was writing last week’s post.
I’m as eclectic as they come where songwriting is concerned. One day, whatever comes out of me will be 1920s jazz, and the next, it’ll be dark trance with an Arabic vibe or Latin Pop or a Country ballad.
This one surfaced as something I imagine would be sung a cappella, backed by a boys’ choir or maybe an African choir, and maybe with some electronic vocal treatment, a la Imogen Heap.
It’s called “Someday Soon.”
I thought I’d do something different this week and share it with you in some form. So, since I’ve had the recording equipment set up to work on the audiobook, I figured I’d take the opportunity to lay down a quick vocal-only track, without spending time to clean it up (so you’re getting it as close to “live” as possible, spit and all). I wish you could hear it as I hear it in my head, feel what I felt that prompted me to write it. Perhaps you will — or you’ll hear and feel it in the way that you alone are meant to hear and feel it right now.
Oh, you have such an amazing voice, Erik. Clear as a bell and no spit at all! 🙂 I remember in your book you mentioning singing in church and other people noticing your voice. Well, now I hear why. This acapella version sounded almost like a lullaby. Beautiful.
Thanks so much, Diana. Yes … that was part of the Foreword, written by my best friend, Dib (and is, in fact, how we met, 23 years ago!)
Of course, here’s where you and I can switch roles, where you hear “no spit at all” and I hear … all the things that I would’ve fixed. But being that the theme is time being of the essence and doing what matters, I wanted to just put up the raw recording without “wasting” time I could be investing into things that matter.
Well, to me it was flawless. And a lovely message too. 🙂
An artist has a vision in his or her head, and I don’t know about the two of you, but my work always falls at least little short of what I’d imagined or hoped for in the final product. That is to say, I’ll be reasonably satisfied with what I’ve created, but it isn’t as perfect as what I’d initially envisioned. That’s why, I think, we keep creating new things: why we keep writing new books, recording new songs, painting new pictures; each one represents a new opportunity to achieve that elusive prize: perfection. This is a good thing: If ever we were able to be fully satisfied with something we’d done, what would be the impetus to create again? I think this is probably also what discourages a lot of hobbyists/aspirants from going pro: They are daunted by how hard it is — how impossible, really — to realize a vision to perfection.
But to an audience on the receiving end, we’re often just taken with the magnitude of the vision itself, even if it falls short of what the artist hoped to achieve. It reminds me of an old Rush lyric about the relationship a spectator has to a work of art: “When I feel the powerful visions/ Their fire has made alive/ I wish I had that instinct — /I wish I had that drive.”
That said, I’m going to have to second Diana’s take on this, Erik: I thought it was just a lovely song, sung to perfection. Glad you did something a little different on the blog this week and shared it with us! Don’t let it be the last time…
Thanks, Sean. As a recovering perfectionist, I can attest to the tension that always exists between doing and achieving. I’ve gotten a lot better over the years at allowing things to remain as they are, rather than un-wisely invest more time into something that matters relatively little, so that I can invest more time into the things that do matter; but I’m always … aware, I’d say … of the disparity between the reality and the vision.
Thanks for the good words. With this, I was shooting for conveying an idea in a real way, rather than producing a marketable product. (But I’ll have to face my demons when that time comes!)
“A recovering perfectionist.” What a way to phrase it!
It’s been a long road, but the work has been less exhausting than the upkeep on the original “ailment.”
Lovely, Erik. The other comments were so thorough I can’t think of much more to say. I can also understand why others like your singing. This was beautifully done. 🙂 — Suzanne
Thanks for listening and for the nice thoughts, Patricia.