Well, well, well....if it isn't Fel. (<-- love 2 speak about myself in the third person and simultaneously rhyme)
I write to you now from my home office, which has become a true caricature of itself. The MUSIC PRODUCER AT WORK! Wires, cords, microphones, MIDI controllers, opened boxes, bubble wrap. But somehow there is order in the chaos.
I'm makin-da-sweet music.
And in the process, making myself.
Er. "Making myself" might not be the best phrase.
It occurred to me that the field of self-improvement should be called "self-clarification." Cuz there's nothing to improve.
Growth feels more like stripping away than building up. Stripping away what I was told to be and feel, groping around in the dark for the silhouette of my essential self. Like finding a melody through the noise.
The act of making music has helped me (forced me?) to do this. It's been....wild.
I've been asking myself:
Who am I, independent of judgment, shame, and the rules that were randomly laid down for me when I was born?
And then the almighty question: How do I really feel? It's amazing how much I've intellectualized feeling in the past, not allowing myself to BE IN my body. But that's all changing.
Gah! There's so much to tell you.
I'm not yet at the point where I'm ready to share all of this, or my music....but that's okay. As we say here in Philadelphia: Trust the Process. (Any basketball fans out there?) All in good time. I know when I'm ready, it will flow. When it comes, it'll be a tidal wave.
I think that covers it. Keep clarifying yourself, and I'll do the same. One day we'll meet in the middle of a rainbow bridge.
Fel / Felicia
Something sweet for your ear holes, or even your eye ballz