Got that wibbly wobbly fluttery feeling under my rib cage.
I’ve arranged some recording sessions with Dan and Tom to get my latest songy thing into tip-top condition for my final submission. This is the thing that is really doing it for me these days.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my textiles, and always will. But I have a level of competence/experience/mastery with them that doesn’t often throw up a surprise. I know how they work, what to expect and how to achieve what I want. It’s gratifying, it’s perhaps like a long happy marriage.
The music is my illicit affair. I don’t know how to do it properly, someone is going to find out and call my bluff. It gives me such a thrill… I record the sound of my husband making a cup of tea, then sit for hours trying to get something interesting from it, then I make a complete hash of it, but something magical appears… my mistakes and incompetence yield the most amazing things. The fact that I’m recording straight onto my mac means I get the sound of a bluebottle buzzing, or the cat meowing. I’ve got this tiny bit of sound that is a bus screeching to a halt outside, it fits with the music perfectly and totally accidentally. I could jump up and down with the joy of it. It makes me blush.
