here's a cool photo of jef lee johnson and naisha watson at soundcheck. the gig on sunday at the brooklyn museum was stellar, for many reasons. read more about it on my rock and roll blog here.
the one reason i couldn't stop dwelling on was that this was the first time that i could hear the new songs -- material that i'd written all by myself -- out of the confines (and the safety) of the sofa in my living room. not that i'd never written a song by myself before but i've written so many all at once this time around that they're starting to tell a story that reflects a lot of what i've been going through recently. i know that as an artist, what you create is supposed to be a reflection of you, but this is much more transparent than i expected, and all of it sounds better than i'd hoped for.
after awhile, whatever brought me to the song is what i leave there inside of it when its done. i've gotten it off my chest, as it were. the emotional weight that brought it out of me only exists when i sing it, and that's a passing momentary thing. i left it in the song for someone else to feel. and so i'm on to the next.
i didn't mean to write about these things in such a direct way, i never meant to be so deliberate about it. i didn't think to myself, let me write a song about that situation. i just happened to be thinking about or reliving a moment in that situation and the song came out.
i realize now more than ever that this is the way it works creatively. to be inside the moment-to-moment work as this process is unraveling inside of me and all around me is overwhelming and humbling and strange. the songs are becoming jigsaw puzzle pieces that, when placed together just so are a complete picture, a snapshot of whatever i was going through at that moment in my life.
actually, i'm still going through it. i'm still writing it all out of me. it's not over yet.