Summer Entries PART I

Hello,
I hope this summer is sweet to you.
❀
I discovered that I love grapefruits but only as juice and that uncomfortableness often sits on the edge of greatness. (We’re only halfway through summer, so I can’t wait to discover more.)

I wanted this letter to be a full diary of my summer as I work on the next project, but it’s getting too long and I’d hate to be a bore: so here is PART I.

Jun. 29th
Making an album.
It’s my first time, and it might be a bit wonky, like every first time, but I’m okay with that. I’ve learned that trying to get it perfect is the worst enemy of getting things done. Each project is a step toward learning how to reach the purest version of what I want to say and how I want to say it.

I am reading the new novel from Ocean Vuong called The Emperor of Gladness and listening to the waves, Virgin (a sick analysis of the themes here), the soundtrack of Death Stranding 2 and the late-night dancing I do to exorcise the excess energy after a day locked in.
I pulled a tarot card for the summer: The Devil.
That’s exciting.
Feels like I’ll live some stories worth telling later.

July 6th
Woke up feeling like I wasn’t sure why I was doing it today.
I sometimes have these kinds of days when I suddenly take back all the good things I’ve graced myself with over the years.
Is this even the purpose? What’s good enough? And when can I say, “It’s great now”?
Is it still only for me at this point?
I’ll never know and will probably keep asking these questions over and over for the rest of this life.
Nevertheless, I walked to the desk and found the missing chorus.
I’ve been writing and deleting it, unhappy, for the last few days.
Maybe today will be the one. This song feels like my soul at the bottom of a clear river; bare and purified.
It’s supposed to be an interlude, but it’s the length of a full song… and I don’t know the rules. I’ll keep calling her interlude II.

Had one of those “hot summer nights, mid-July, when you and I were forever wild” kind of nights. The kind that makes everything feel light and free. The kind that makes me forget I only feel half alive in this place sometimes. Swallowed whole by the future I’m trying to build, by all the what-could-be’s.
I tend to forget that I exist now
that things exist now
and that there are times to observe beauty,
and times to let it run through you.

July 11th
I am allowed to feel lost
but I do not abandon myself
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

July 13th
I spent the week doing exactly the opposite of what I was supposed to do.
I reached that stage of fear where I started thinking:
“Maybe I already have all the songs.”
“Maybe this is all there is.”
“Maybe I could do better or at least more.”

Then I spiraled.

I spent the week helping out some friends at their art festival on the beach. It was lovely meeting artists and watching their process from blank canvas to finished piece. I stayed late, danced it out. Felt churned up by the moon and cried a little. I laughed a lot too, and played ‘dare or dare’ as an exercise in not taking everything so seriously.

I spent the week starting new songs instead of finishing the ones I already have.
It’s like all the half-finished canvases were piling up in my room, and instead of doing the smart thing; getting them out of the way, I kept starting new ones, thinking that one new one might be the solution.

I’m swallowed.

Maybe this is the tipping point where I need help.
Maybe I just need to get over the fear of committing to what I have
- the fear of calling it mediocre, of giving up as a way out instead of actually doing the thing.

I’m being honest.
*
I know that tomorrow, I’ll go back to the computer,
spend hours deep in it, figuring it all out
and then, it will be the best day
and then, I’ll be so very proud
and then, I’ll believe in myself again.

I had just lost the life I’d built for six years. I’d moved back in with my parents and I think I put too much pressure on it.
Writing it was excruciating.
You can’t write good songs if you want them to be perfect.

They would become the opposite of honest and authentic. They would try to please everyone and be everything. I held some resentment toward this body of work,
because it reminds me of that moment in my life when I was completely lost.
And yet, I also love this EP.
Because I know I’ll never approach writing the same way again.
It taught me something.
They all do, I guess, but this one was through tears and false hopes:
There’s no moment that saves you.
No song that fixes everything.
Just little steps that build you —
and they’re supposed to be somewhat fun.

Love.
G

Today I thought about the internet. That maybe I need to find a new, fun way to approach it. The authenticity feels fake. I think we’ve forgotten about the deeper things, got stuck on surface levels and aesthetics. I love aesthetics but maybe it’s not enough anymore.
Meaning and beauty hide in details, in corners, in small bits and I feel like we’re getting bored of the polished, pre-digested version of everything. Of things that come too easily. Of thoughts already processed, softened, smoothed over for everyone’s comfort.
It’s like we’re feeding on fast food for the soul, easy to watch, easy to like, easy to forget. I think I want to return to the things that take time, that don’t always make sense at first glance, that are maybe a little messy, not performing truths anymore but thoughtful stories.

A random list of my favourite things in nature that I thought of on my late evening walk today:
ferns, twisted branches, wide open trunks, winter roses (Hellebores), riverbeds, ivy over rocks and old wood, the shame plant, bumblebees, curious butterflies- but more than anything moths -vines (when they twist around random objects and become one with them), trees that try to reach the sky, and the ones that look deep into the water like cypresses and willows, wisteria (blooming and bare), waterfalls big or small, puddles of rain that become mirrors and portals, all the berries-especially raspberries and blackberries- as they look to me like clusters of atoms and could well be entire universes that I would shamelessly eat, dandelions (obviously), tiny seashells, cracking branches in the wind.

This list is not exhaustive, but it’s all I could think of for now.

July 27th
I have been stuck on writing lyrics for a new song - I decided last minute to add to the track list of course as it felt like something was left unsaid. The roots of all the rest. I thought I was procrastinating but turns out I was right to craft her as she could well be a missing link.
It’s been 3 days and I am so stuck with the chorus. I’m overthinking it.
This song is so good, I’m really proud of it, at least the melodies and feeling it brings me. I really want to finish it, hopefully I’ll find the right words soon.
- I’m restless

August 3rd
I watched the sky for hours last night, hoping to catch some shooting stars.
We sat on the patio, heads tilted up toward the big void above, not talking to each other.

I saw a big one at 22:22 - made a wish. Everything was aligned.
-
I still haven’t found the lyrics for the last song, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m exporting demos, and it feels like a massive step. I’ve still given myself a whole month. I can do this.

x