Well my plans for a grand slam of creativity this month have hit the buffers. A sound effects job and the need to paint a new layer on the silk painting tomorrow means that there is no hope of finishing any music by the end of next week.
I wrote the track/mood/vision listing last night though. The Music Box will be my first completely surrealist album of instrumental music. In retrospect, all of my music somehow did reflect my personality at the time of writing, perhaps all music does from Beethoven to Mike Oldfield, but perhaps those people chose and edited with too much care instead of sticking to the instant feeling and idea and then leaving it; in effect I've developed this in an instant like I do with my paintings.
My plan now is to work on this music this month and save the writing idea for another time. Writing literature requires so little skill and intelligence that, once the ideas are sketched out, I can happily do all that stuff in a few decades when my brain had mostly melted and my tremulous hands and thick yellow eyes fail my painterly effervescences.
