The Memorial Rainbow

Last night I had a dream that, among Pokemon related things (which were awesome), included the fact that I was living in New York City. My family came to visit me, and for some odd reason, my dad was really surprised that I was there. I don't know, maybe he never got the message that I moved or something.

I get the feeling that maybe I haven't fully understood it yet when it comes to writing music. I know I'm not writing for just myself in my basement anymore, and I've actually been writing *to* people as part of Almond Dust's "What's Your Story Morning Glory" theme, but I also have to write in a way that everybody else will understand. Do you know how hard that is? To find a universal message that everybody gets? It's so hard for me to get wrapped up in the music of the song, to think, "Okay, all the notes go together correctly, it's finished," and to nearly completely forget the lyrics. This is why I want to write with people. But then again, I've got ownership issues with music, I suppose. There was an instance one time back in high school where my mom told me not to let anybody have my music, because they would then take it and copyright it for themselves.

I need to take down that nice brick wall around my music. People can't hear me if I have it up like this.

I'm going somewhere new
And it's no thanks to you

More updates from Charlotte later.

Dylan, you are no longer allowed to complain about my internet, because this stuff here is nuts. Seriously, the lag is insane. It's worse than Lite.

So, here we are, in the hotel room. I'm perched on my bed, along with all of my stuff from the day. Dylan is looking at something on his computer. I am going to post this and then grab my DS and start playing Black again. I forgot how much of this first badge is a walkthrough in Generation V.

And there goes my Easy Mac. (rescues it from the microwave)

Today has been a very interesting day. I didn't fall asleep until about 2:30AM here, which makes sense not only because I normally work overnights but because I was nervous. Today was my meeting with the Nashville Songwriters' Association, and I was trying desperately to convince myself for the umpteenth time that I should just go back to Zanesville and do customer service for the rest of my life. Which is it MUCH easier to say no to that voice when the BMI offices are located next door to your hotel, and you can see them. I eventually had to convince myself to go to bed, since I had only had two and a half hours of sleep the night before.

The funny thing about what I actually want to do is that I can't run from it when I'm actually doing it. I'm here. Like, physically here. I'm not locked up in my apartment in Zanesville, missing people and watching late-night TV that I've DVR'd while working on my music.

We went up to NSAI, which was a much smaller building than I thought it was, which was good. The secretary, Whitney, was very nice and explained a lot to us about NSAI and how it works, and she gave us a quick tour. Then, we met this guy named Chris, who was super-enthusiastic and even gave me one of his lyric sheets. It really made me realize that I wasn't at home anymore, and that it really was God's will for me to be here.

Then we had the meeting with David, who was able to explain more of how the songwriting business works. It's still hard for me to grasp. Right now all I really know is that I want to write with as many people as possible. David said that my music was really sound, but my lyrics could use some work. It made sense for two reasons -- 1: with my synesthetics, writing music is not only easy but fluent for me, and 2: I might be farther along with writing English lyrics if 95% of the songs I listened to were actually in English! Major J-POP fail right there.

There are songwriters of every genre and age here. I can either bang my head against the wall, yell at myself for not making it so far yet, even go so far as to call myself a failure because I wasn't world-famous at fifteen...or be grateful that I've learned so much. With every time I play my music for someone else, with every open mic I go to, with every connection I make, that little voice in my head is going farther and farther away. I don't know if it will ever fully disappear, but at least it is fading out into the sunset as I run into the night.

Anyway, from there, we drove down to past 440 and jaywalked to the Bluebird Cafe. I *really* like this place. It wasn't necessarily big or flashy, which was good. I wasn't anticipating playing, which I didn't get a chance to (and I'm fine with that). While there, I met Shelby Dressel, whose videos I might note I've been watching mostly nonstop tonight (although right now I'm listening to Ms. Dion in an effort to get my Engrish back on track). Shelby has, straight up, a wonderful voice, and I'm glad I met her. Someone needs to invent a 'beam me up Scotty' device so I can watch this girl live -- she didn't get to play, either.

While standing in line for the Bluebird, looking at everybody standing there with their guitars and feeling slightly out of place, I realized something. I have something that nobody else has. I have my synesthesia. That in itself is unique, and nobody can ever take that from me. If I could, I would gift everybody I know with synesthesia, to share the way I see the world, to give everybody their own colors. That way, C Major for someone would be green, and for another person, it would be blue. But I can't do that. I can only weave the final product and have people listen to it.

But the most important thing to remember about Nashville is the one thing I think I've learned the most of...that, no, unlike Fishers so long ago, people are not out to eat me alive. That's something I've learned from Chris, from Shelby, and most importantly, from myself.

OK, I'm *sure* that entire post made a whole heck of a lot of sense. Bottom line...I really need to quit my day job. (Anybody find that ironic?)