Every afternoon on this trip, I steal away for a couple hours, head down to a secluded spot on the beach with my Ukulele, and write a song. I’ve written one every day so far - good, complete ideas, stuff I plan on recording when I get home - and after several months focusing on my stage left life, it’s encouraging knowing so many melodies have been patiently waiting.
I love playing live and recording, but I love creating new music most of all. I’ve been in bands and played professionally since high school, experiencing every setback imaginable, along with some unexpected success. And regardless of whether it’s a euphoric high or crippling low, I write songs - as celebration, as therapy, as a glimmer of hope.
I made a deal with myself during a particularly rough patch that if writing songs lost its magic, that’d be it - I’d hang things up with zero regrets, equipped with any number of very good reasons to quit the business and take up, I dunno, the actuarial sciences or something.
Thankfully, after all these years, I still feel the same revelatory sense of purpose every time a turn of phrase catches hold of a melody and just won’t let go.