Breaking and making patterns takes time. Change doesn't happen overnight. If you can get the smallest thing right, consider it a victory.
Listen to the first album by your favorite musician or the first episodes of your favorite podcast. Each is raw, a collection of experiments filled with potential, but far from perfect.
Read the first book or blog posts from your favorite writer. You'll often find discombobulated prose and waning focus.
Remember a first date, or the first note you sang. It was probably cringe worthy, but beautiful.
When we start, we ungracefully fall through the steps, but we get better at it. Making the decision to continue falling is the hard part.
Mixed Messages Day 14
Where should we start the story? If it's entirely linear, it's boring. If it's entirely abstract, others will lose attention. The best stories have aspects of the end in the beginning. Without being too direct, I need to leave clues throughout the story as signs of where it's going. The hanging hints keep our interest.
To be overt would be to cheapen the art, like an overshare. Like love, the story is best when it answers all of our unspoken questions, but does so subtly. It's best when it makes us think, "Ohh, that's it!" There needs to be suspense and we need to guess. If not, no one will be delighted to hear from us, and the project will lose momentum from week to week.
With Talking to Myself, not much mental labor was put into the question. It wasn't even asked. We were just happy to finish the work. It took all we had. As making the project went by so fast, many of the questions that could have made our album better were missed. Each week felt like a challenge we were unprepared for, which meant that we could notice problems, but couldn't fix them. We were trying to master the basics. Learning to ask where to start is one of the major steps we have taken in our development as artists.
If released today, the story would begin with overconfidence. Most of our errors do, and that emotion is a good frame to set events in motion. More often than not, it blinds us to what we should see, but end up passing. And what we pass always finds a way to come back.
I think that's the place the story will begin.