Conscious

There was time when I didn’t care all that much about conventions. I knew what I liked, and didn’t feel any need to justify my tastes. Making music in bands during high school was a different process entirely from the way I try to make music (or don’t) now, and I miss it. I miss how effortless it seemed, at least by comparison. Granted, I understand music better now. I’m a better player, a better composer with more refined sensibilities and more critical ears.

That’s the problem; I’m too critical. I’m so critical, in fact, that not only is it significantly more difficult to be proud of (or even get excited about) music, but more often then not I can’t even bring myself to make music all together. I’m not even that interested in finding new records, something that used to inspire me to try new things.

I’m so conscious of not being “good enough” for myself and others, that I won’t even begin to try. This extends to other areas, too.

What’s frustrating is that—without being arrogant—I know I’m capable of good work. I think I have talent. I’m just afraid to use it, that my work won’t stand out, or that I’ll fail…so I haven’t. Yet.

If you can understand that feeling, you’ll likely understand a lot about me.