Fresh off the heels of a successful (by my definition) day of musical activities, this being the
21st of this month of January, I am holding my head up a little higher than normal. I would say that I
typically have some reservation that I'd shy away from thinking myself an artist, but, while that
hesitancy persists but only because of the word choice, I am warming up to recognizing that I have
such a bandwidth. I certainly have thrown around enough (a lot of) money to finally be able to acknowledge
that what I am partly is a creator of sound art, however invisible or admonishable on account of the
sharp unfashionability of some styles. I am compelled to do more than just death metal due to this
insecurity, and while some may think it sad, I am thankful for such consciences as they've influenced
my music listening and pursuits in a not superficial way. I've arrived at just as many "unbecoming"
or less respectable styles of music in this subconscious divergence from the rails that my cohort
latch onto - I certainly didn't buy a tabla set and djembes to sell myself more convincingly, or to
cash in on some model of musicianship - buying an electric violin was the closest thing to what I've
detailed and it's not even the case with it.