This year, I plan on recording an album and submitting it to as many record labels as possible. I met a guy who knows some record labels; even better: he happens to be a producer. More better: His brother is a songwriter. Even more unfathomably better: He lives in Arkansas, very close by. Things this year were turning into crap, until here recently. Then it all started going uphill.
I’ve got alot of faith and hope for the future. Even if the record that I make doesn’t ever go anywhere or get me anything but a little well deserved ego boost, it’s allright. That’s something that I will just have under my belt and be able to look back on and realize… even though I may not have gone anywhere with it, I did get to experience something amazing.
I’ve decided that I cannot live my life afraid to try because the underlying possibility of failure. Life is about mistakes; the reason we have free-will, is because of that 50/50 chance that we might seriously screw up… but be able to learn from it.
When I die, I don’t want to gently walk through the door of eternity, clean, in one piece, fresh as a daisy, and relatively untouched. I want to skid into home base, kicking up dust behind me, hollering from the top of my lungs, “Whooooo Hoooo, That was a gooooood ride!” A book of memories in one hand, and a Bud Light in the other, and covered from head to toe in dirt.
I think, that since music is so universal, why isn’t everyone recording an album? Whether its something you wrote or its something someone else wrote, singing is one of the most intimate ways of communicating, because you show parts of your character that otherwise would have gone unnoticed. The toughest, most masculine man could intimidate anyone… until you hear him singing his baby a lullabye. Then, all other preconceptions about him slip away.
So anyways, I’m working very hard on making this goal of recording an album, a reality.
