Music therapy
Another strange day today.
Well, strange evening. The daytime wasn’t too strange. I went over to R’s and did that planned recording with him. This included a voice and piano version of ‘Love Is A Losing Game’ - possibly the first cover version of that song to be put to vinyl, or whatever medium people use nowadays* - and ‘Little Sunflower’ and ‘Route 66′ sung over pre-recorded sessions already laid down (as they say in the biz that is show) by his two kids earlier in the week.
The evening then started strangely when L was very upset about an incident at the hotel. His reaction was possibly, probably, exaggerated - but I’ve realised that he’s a very sensitive man, and feels things very deeply. And I admire him for those qualities.
But then I got upset (honestly, we musicians! Tcha!). Over the fact that the horrible incident - I can’t even bring myself to hyperlink it - hasn’t quite resolved itself in the way that I guess I’d expected, or at least wanted, it to.
I suppose I wanted closure, or even justice, about what happened to me, before I left. No, correction: any time. But ideally before I left.
But now it looks like it’s not to be; not just before I left, but at all. The perpetrator has, in short, got away with it.
I suppose that finding that out this evening not only led me to feel more hurt and wronged than I did before, but also brought back all the other feelings which I’d felt about That Incident at the time. Feelings which I had managed to overcome - or at least suppress - until now.
But again, as before, I don’t want these feelings to marr my time here - especially now that I am in my final week.
And getting on stage tonight and making music did wonders for that. I’ve said often that I’m never sad when I sing - and it’s true. Sure, I might get emotional during a sad song, and absolutely feel what I am singing at that moment. But earlier this evening, after I cried down the phone to T, I genuinely thought to myself: ‘Thank goodness I’m going to make music tonight’.
Because as anyone who’s ever done karaoke knows: music really is wonderful therapy. (Insert exception here).
*since Doris Stokes died.
March 26th, 2008 at 7.00am
I’m sorry you’re not getting the kind of closure you wanted, but think of all that you have achieved over the last couple of months - not only in terms of entertaining people, improving the band, seeing all these wonderful places, meeting lots of interesting folk, but, perhaps most important, in terms of the way you have grown, both as a person and, I’d bet, musically. Beside that, the perpetrator and his work are small beer, not worth wasting your time on. When you get home you can just be so proud of your time in Penang. Big hug from melting Canada.
March 26th, 2008 at 11.50am
thank you Andrew. and yes you’re right, it *is* small beer. a shot of shandy, perhaps. that’s how small and insignificant, really, it is…
March 28th, 2008 at 12.56am
Sorry but karaoke can be painful too…