I’m trying to purify my relationship with music. It’s been a long road, and there’s some unhealthy stuff weaved in.
I identify with my work in a deep way. I am my work. That’s no boast. It’s actually quite unhealthy, I’m beginning to realise. I struggle to separate what I do from who I am. That’s an okay way to write songs, but it’s a difficult way to be a person.
Sometimes I feel like I have no idea who I am. I’m so wrapped up in the work. And it makes for what I think is called “emotional unavailability” – I’m not always much fun to be around. Le Sigh.
It’s startlingly obvious, but I have to remind myself that I am not my work. I made some music today purely for fun. That’s a big deal for me. Making music, simply to relax? What is that? It’s been a high stress process for many years.
It was always going to be this way. I’ve been leading from the cutting edge for years. And that’s what people know me for. The audience is expecting that – and luckily they’re there for me even when it doesn’t always work. As artistic work goes, travelling the world and betting E V E R Y T H I N G on prototype futuretech sci-fi aesthetic as a way of playing music… that qualifies as high stakes. It’s a tightrope act every time.
But it’s not me. I can give myself permission to enjoy it. I can put some space between me and the canvas. I don’t have to be smushed up against it.
Grateful for all of it. It’s a beautiful adventure. But I don’t always give myself the space to enjoy the view x
[The attached painting is part of a series of digital canvases I’ve been working on. Purely as downtime. A chance to be creative with no stakes. It’s how I’m finding the breathing space between me and my work. Just flowing. Not thinking. And relax…]
