A month or so ago I did this stupid thing called Band Swap. It's where a bunch of musicians get together and all the drummer's names go in a cup, singers names go in a cup, et cetera. Then they create new bands and each band has one month to write five songs and come up with a band name.
It was a blast. It reminded me of the good ole' days of playing and writing. I sure do miss it sometimes. I think that a part of me still thinks it defines me - makes me who I am. Makes me better, different, not just some boring girl that likes to read books. It makes me special. But.... I guess it really doesn't.
Maybe that's what I've missed this whole time. Instead of letting it define me - I should be letting it evolve me and enrich my life and help me grow and express. But I think all musicians are proud of it and that's why everyone talks about it.
Anyhow - the real point of the story:
So the guitar player I was put with in the Band Swap.... let's call him Shmarchie.... Shmarchie and I get along really well. We've known each other for a long time and we've played together in the past. We mesh well musically (so I thought.) After Band Swap was over I decided to go out on a limb and ask him if he would like to start a project with me. He replied, "yeah I think we could do some cool shit together too but I just don't have the time for it."
I appreciate his kindness. That was the nicest way possible to say no to me. He could have been a dick about it. But what a blow to the ego! In other words, he said, I don't dig that idea enough to MAKE time for it. Which is fine, really. I get it. It's not that big of a deal. I don't know what I was expecting. I should have known better than to set myself up for disappointment.
So now I'm kind of grumpy about the whole thing. I feel like I'm a sorry excuse for a musician. Like I've let that part of me die because I've neglected it. Similar to how I've neglected you, blog. You and my musicianship have so much in common!
I played guitar the other night. It actually ended up just pissing me off to no end and furthering my beliefs that I suck at it. I can't even play a fucking B chord. How did I miss that one, huh?
I guess I can think of this as a good thing. Maybe I do need to move on. That scene is part of my past. Several chapters ago. This writer needs to stop regurgitating old stories and start to write her new ones.
