Outfits and Music

Today I went through six outfits. The first was what I woke up in - sleepy pants and a T-shirt. Then I hurriedly got dressed and rushed out to get a coconut and a pineapple at Shop 'n' Save and costume materials at the thrift store. That was grey painter pants, "I'm a Pepper" T-shirt and the leather jacket. Then I got home, decided I wouldn't stay at Pitt between my 11am meeting with Career Services and the honors convocation at 1:45, and threw on my new Aero khakis, dark blue button-up shirt with the vertical grey stripes (one of my current favorites), leather jacket, and Pumas. Then I got home, cut up pineapple, and changed into my interview suit. Ahhhhh. Convocation, long and numerous speeches, backwoods way home, and then the "holding pattern" outfit before I put my Luke Skywalker costume together: same khakis, white T and blue long-sleeve T from the Harveys. The Skywalker outfit was lighter khakis, stocking-like wraps around akles and feet, big baggy off-white sweater with the collar and cuffs cut off, and a tunic-ish piece of canvas wrapped around my shoulders and tucked in under a belt. It felt weird and I wasn't thrilled with it, but word on the street is it was pretty sweet :-) And the last outfit is this, which is the same, minus the feet wraps and tunic thingey.

Not many days see me changing that much.

I like putting outfits together, trying to get stuff that I think looks cool or nifty, and trying to get things that look cohesive together. Enjoyable to think about and work on.


Today was the first time I have ever really felt someone enjoying my music. I've heard about people liking it and listening to it at home or singing along, and goodness knows I've played guitar a million times at various gatherings and hang-outings, but today was different. I sat around in the Pierson's living room and played a bunch of old songs from Elvis and Hank Williams and the Beatles from a new songbook with some Q's and Piersons listening and Mitchell keeping up on some bongos. I played one song of my own, which Mr. Pierson liked, but there's nothing like the way people enjoy old favorites like Hey Jude or "The Times They Are A-Changin'." It was a really nice time--flopped around the room, playing, singing, listening, and finding my way through familiar songs guided by my wonderful new songbook (lyricbook, actually). Mr. Pierson really enjoyed it, and said so, and that was very cool. I know I love sitting here on the hearth with a low fire and no lights playing Danny Boy or some old Hank Williams, singing to the silence and abiding in the music, so it was kind of amazing to be able to do that for somebody else. It's a feeling I want to chase.

My mind is in a bit of conflict, though. In the last few months I've grown to love playing those old songs, and when I'm singing it's like I'm singing right from my soul, even if it's a song about being long-gone-lonesome-blue after your lover left you. But they're somebody else's songs, and I have traditionally put far more value and weight on what I myself can produce. So why does it feel so "productive" to sing those songs? Why doesn't it feel like artistic hypocrisy to sink into something somebody else wrote and sing it and feel it like it's my own?

For one thing, regardless of analysis, I think I'm understanding better the value and artistic solidity of singers--something I've traditionally sneered upon. I think there's more than I thought to taking and owning a song and singing it out in a way that affects other people.

For another thing, I know practically it takes a fair amount of time and many listens to grow to truly love a song, even if it's a very good song. So, even if all my songs were as good as Hank Williams, nobody would care until they'd heard them a bunch. It's pragmatically unrealistic to expect people to enjoy and "sink down into" songs I've written which they're hearing for one of the first times. Playing standards connects me to the profound and deep associations that people have with music from their past. There are a couple people on this earth for whom one of my songs might be like that, but other than that, I'm several wide tiers below something like "Heartbreak Hotel."

So... as I keep coming to in regards to music, most of what is lacking in my stuff is out of my control. I can't make people hear and love my songs and develop years of experience with them. So what can I do? I can keep writing songs. What's my one hope of writing a song that has the potential to be loved? To write another song. It might be the one. And it is definitely a step on the way. If you write 100 genuine songs, you've got a good chance of having one or two truly good ones in the bunch.

And lastly, I want to do this more! I want to be able to create that peace and serenity that comes when you sink down into the music that's playing and mouth the words and let the time pass by pleasantly. The power to make someone happy or peaceful, or excited or jolly, is an amazing thing. I think it's what drives comedians and performers and bands and writers and artists of all molds, and I think I've gotten a little taste of it. Would that I could make my living doing such.


Pineapple - $4
Coconut - $3
Thrift Store stuff - $10
36 miles of driving - $3 of gas

Cost of the day's activities: $20

Living is expensive.

--Clear Ambassador