In the last couple days I received three helpful encouragements about this process.
My friend D Lamar shared how one of these songs felt like a journey from the head to the heart. The song, Dorchester, was that sort of experience for me. Some of it still requires mental concentration so I don’t lose my place. But then the bridge and chorus felt so easy (even though they were brand new) that it felt more like heart connection.
My friend (and Substack mentor-hero) MaryAnn McKibben Dana said something like, “I’m so excited when I see your posts come through every day, and I think—I know Troy will slow down or stop if this starts to be a burden. You don’t have to do this, so I hope you’ll keep doing it as long as it remains life-giving.”
This morning I called my fellow Enneagram 7 friend Mieke Clincy for some accountability about the balance between desire, output, and freedom. She helped me realize I wanted two things from this project (and rarely can we get both—but in this case, you’re making the rules, so why not do both… it’s 100 days after all):
to bring song babies from concepts into demos
and to create demos that I love—good enough to come back to—even if they aren’t perfect.
These combined to help me today as I got out my guitar and smiled, with a little more patience (queue Guns N’ Roses, c. 1988, just don’t listen too closely to the lyrics that have not aged very well).
I’m currently working from a field recording that is pretty straightforward country blues—maybe a little Joe Cocker—until near the end of the recording when I stumble onto a Willie Nelson-sort of jazz lead line. I didn’t catch the fingerboard on the video that day, and it sort of happened by accident. And since my #100DaysOfDemos is a commitment to embodiment and being present, I felt just fine calmly fishing for that lead line—practicing for around an hour and really enjoying myself.
The song starts out:
“I don’t know what it cost you.
Don’t know what it cost you.
I don’t know what it costs.
But I understand now
that it cost you—
and that you are not lost.”
More to come. Maybe that number, or another.
Also, this is fair warning that as I get more practice in, I may take another pass at these early songs and see what it feels like when my head and fingers get more accustomed and I can drop down into heart.
It’s 100 days, not 100 originals.
Thanks for following.