Today it was finally my turn to actually record something as opposed to help the other musicians create and shape their parts. It was humbling and frustrating. My guitar teacher told me today that there's some things that I can do better than him in my playing -- something to do with barely controlled chaos. Which is good for the songs that need that (about half of them on this record). The other half need someone to play simple parts steadily and I can't do it. Very frustrating. Great news is we have another guitarist working on this record with me who can do about anything, and who is incredibly precise.
After all these years of making music it's not much easier to see my own weaknesses and inadequacies -- and no less amazing to feel and sense something beautiful happening in the midst of them. How does that work? Why is it still feel so vulnerable? I give the little piece I have to give, as incomplete and flawed as it is, leaning into this hope for some kind of divine alchemy, that I've experienced enough times to know it's worth the risk, but also knowing that you never know how or where or when love will show up and turn your little gift left on the altar to gold. There's not printed timetables for this stuff.
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