There is no purpose or benefit to unhappiness or happiness when alone. There is nobody to help or sympathise or to uplift. So, why would we feel anything when alone? Are we hoping for sympathy from another part of ourselves, or are we preparing for contact with other people at some point? I expect both reasons are valid.
A slow day today. I've felt particularly isolated; yet, ironically, I know I'm not alone in this. Work must be broken into rational choices and feelings set aside. Irrespective of Mozart's success, poverty, acclaim, rejection, popularity, isolation; his work days remain remembered by and branded upon the universe, and his days doing nothing are forgotten.
I've started work on a new song, Life in the Mirror. I've started with the words, which is often the case now, I refine these as a poem. Fall in Green taught me that even complex and atonal poetry works when simply spoken to music, and music lyrics are often poor poetically, too constricted. Perhaps poems can be (and often are) constrained or changed to fit a song structure, but this still tends to create better lyrics than starting to write with that constraint. Here are the opening lines:
Life in the Mirror
That's me in the mirror
those broken bits of face
without a smile.
That's an empty room behind me
where my parents used to live
when the candle used to dance
on its frightened cake.
...
Now, for the music I've taken a radical approach and ignored any semblance of rhythm and little structure. I began by hitting the piano at random like notes of broken glass - the image is my main focus - image, the music must describe this explicitly to the listener. This smashing grows into a chord of G-minor (or B-flat major the exact opposite of E-minor from the preceding song). This is very much a work in progress.
