Two busy days. Singing aside, I spent a lot of time yesterday mixing the album and making little changes. They're getting smaller and smaller; the album is nearly complete. I also made sure I have simple piano tune versions of my songs, of the easy sort I used to play as a child. The music for 'Anyone Can Fall In Love' is particularly fun to play; it fits on one page and includes bass and treble clefs for the lead, and interesting chord changes, yet the rhythm is simple:
Last night was one of intense stomach agony which lasted many hours. I barely slept and awoke in a zombie-like state. I seem to have one good day of charging, one of retreat. Perhaps this is due to charging too much on the busy day, or perhaps this is nature itself. Many things have up then down days, the stock market for example.
I updated Prometheus today, adding a feature to warn me if notes are to be deleted when quantising. Then I started work on the album cover. I had a clear image in my mind of pastel colours and a car coming out of an art-deco style circle. I started by photographing a toy car:
Then a simple background based on the Walk In The Countryside album:
I spent hours on colour combinations of the rays, the car, the spots. Extreme contrast seemed to help to add an illustrative look, and the cat-shaped halo made it look interesting from a distance. If in doubt, I choose the option with the most information in it, the most content and interest. Anything interesting wins:
This has something of the 1950s about it.
Nigel Stonier texted this evening to ask how Deb was and if we'd be at the open mic on Tuesday. I thought this was touching and replied, and he replied with a request to like and re-tweet his Twitter posts to sell tickets to Egan's Words & Music gig. This is the third time he's asked me to do such a favour (excluding the favour to include his music on Snow Business), and it made me feel foolish for considering his first enquiry sincere. I will acquiesce, though I find these requests annoying and I feel I'm owed a return in kind. An important irony is that Egan is a great person and performer, and would not and does not need such prompts for recognition, which I'd willingly give. It's somewhat sad to see the public likes and comments, which I know are due to his father's prompts and prods behind the scenes. How can he discern genuine praise from the fake and the forced? Perhaps I'm blessed to face the cold indifferent judgement of real life.
