Through the soft plinking of keys and the blare of a horn, I struggled to differentiate the sounds- which were good, which were mediocre. My untrained ear was a probable cause- I can't read notes and can only stumble over a few guitar renditions of simple songs.
The problem was that, when I listened, it all sounded good to me. Every sharp note, softened croon, and pluck of a string was a beautiful noise, every song a talented honorarium to it's original maker.
This made me think, is this not all art?
Are we not all honing our skills, building our flexibility-our mental and physical strength? Are not most of us "talented" at this point?
I wonder if my work is just part of the noise- like most people, very good. The fast-playing pianist ahead of their classmates sometimes but beyond their educational cloister, very small. A studio class of 15-30 students. A town with thousands of people. A country. A world.
A lot of people with skills of just the same. Strong, talented, ambitious. What sets them apart. There are a whole lot of us "talents". We are really nothing special, and you could say it's better to imagine it's for yourself. It's softer.
I wonder if cushioning the blow is what holds some of us back from reaching far? If my nihilistic (perhaps mechanically realistic) way of doing things will ever set me apart. If I might pass on one day feeling like I never achieved the thing I wanted most (that I think everyone wants the most) not just being an "artist" but just to become something. To have some worldly purpose beyond just eating, sweating and shitting. If that is really unrealistic or if there's a way beyond. Dino Valls once told me, "work, work, work" but what type of work?
Make more?
Be more?
Do more?
Work.
I guess there's no harm in trying.
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