Apocalypse Meow
Notes from apparent hell on earth
Well folks, apparently end times have arrived.
Yes, that may be hyperbole. Or maybe not, depending on your personal situation. Right now in Minnesota (and much of the United States) we are dealing with 1) extreme heat, 2) The worst air quality event ever recorded statewide due to wildfires in the northern part of the state and Canada fed by both natural climate trends (El Niño) and the exacerbation of climate extremes by human-caused climate change, 3) A wave of fresh hell in the form of biting gnats that came with the smoke, and 4) a mass outbreak of explosive diarrhea-causing parasites that have made consumption of fresh produce a game of runny roulette.
It’s not the best time in the world to be living off the gig economy, to say the least. The extreme heat has destroyed MPG in my hybrid vehicle as the AC overworks to achieve optimal temperature for 1) my health conditions and 2) whatever I am transporting, meanwhile people are afraid to order their usual grocery items when there’s a risk of it poisoning their households, so I’m exposing myself to hazardous air quality for extended periods of time and curtailed earnings potential.
Some days and weeks, life can be quite humbling. I’ve been dealing on and off (mostly on, as of late) with the worsening impacts of what I suspect is a connective tissue disorder. The latest casualty has been my voice, specifically my ability to intone correctly or as intended. Consequently, my focus has turned to composing songs that no longer have my voice in mind as a reference point. It’s not that I can’t sing any longer; I can and I do, but I’ve lost confidence in my voice’s capabilities due to a breakdown of the supporting muscles and ligaments and, as a singer, there is little worse than a loss of confidence in your ability. Self-doubt is a dubious little fucker and it will wreak havoc at every opportunity you provide it. So, I have decided to press onward. Melody can obviously be expressed in many more ways than through the human voice, so the task now is to expand my skillset, rather than wallow in self-pity and uncertainty over whether I will ever regain control of my vocals.
Here’s a track I’ve been working on that incorporates a variety of elements to craft a specific vibe, in this case capturing briefly the essence of a wistful summer night, one where you feel on the cusp of something great happening if you could only get out of your own head and out the door. It’s a feeling I’ve experienced all too often, one I’ve come to learn is rooted in neurodivergence and pathological demand avoidance. But those are subjects for another time.
Appropriate titled, here’s “Feeling It,” a work in progress:
