I dream of being taken to Burns Night by the poet John Lindley. The event is in a location in a Wistaston housing estate. We commented that all of the houses look the same and that it's easy to get lost. I entered a Primary School, which, I think, was to be the location of the event, but John wasn't there, he was lost somewhere in the school, trying to find us. The children were gathered around and I told them about John and that they must get ready.
I'm feeling artistically lost, frustrated and unsatisfied, wanting to do more. I've made good progress on music, but it's slowness doesn't feel creative enough. I work best when I'm working on several things at once and this simple and short album of simple a short songs is taking weeks, too long.
I've finalised the new melody to Tycho Brahe but now the guitars feel wrong somehow and the vocals, of which I recorded a guide today, need work. I can't sing here due to my parents. When collecting from Ty Pawb, the wonderful lady there said that she remembered meeting my parents when they went to see the exhibition, and mentioned that my mother said that my painting there was not her favourite. I'm reminded than none of my paintings are her favourite, nor any of my music or books. She dislikes all of my art and often tells me how much she dislikes my work. Of course, I hide all of my creations from her, yet this doesn't stop the comments, and I know that this is her nature, and that she was as critical and unsupportive of my work with computer games too, but I'm also aware that, on some level, she doesn't mean it, and will on occasions completely forget previous criticisms and utterly reverse her position with no recollection at all about ever seeing or hearing the work.
Perhaps the Tycho vocals could be sung an octave higher. The climax of this song is the guitar solo; this works, but the song as a whole doesn't push me or prove enough.
I recorded an instrumental solo in synthesized electric piano for Art For Me. This has taken ages and about eight different versions in different instruments.
Peter came for his lesson as usual, and then I worked on Autumn's Shadow, which is a gentle song with a medieval quality because of the instruments of stroked harp chords, strings, and flutes. It's as much a poem as a song, and artistically interesting because of it's difference. The solo is sequenced and based on the gaps between the notes of the main melody.
Musical progress is achingly, frustratingly slow, yet the best I can do it work every hour of the day, and that I do.
