I wrote 4 Instagram post in a notebook because I recorded a few videos. I planned on posting them methodically over 2 weeks. But I didn’t start posting them. This post is not one of them. I deleted them all except one because I lied to myself.

My friend, as all great friends should do, called me on my bullshit. I told them almost 4 years ago I’d start posting stuff on Instagram in anticipation of an almost done album. I told them I’d made that promise to other people. And the *almost done* phase of an album is an eternity.

I told them it’s because as much as I’m excited to share my first solo album, it’s been one of the more emotionally vulnerable endeavors I’ve endeavored to endeavor. But I was making excuses. Maybe half of the songs I have on the album, now that it’s almost actually done, are about acknowledging excuses I’ve made in the past. Whoops.

The potential of putting something out there that people know you’ve worked hard on and getting a negative reception is stressful, but so is the idea of putting yourself out there in a quick, live, unedited clip where you have that thought of “what if people think this is the best I can do?”

The ego needs a delicate massage on the reg, and encouragement sometimes, but an equally healthy dose of digging into its pressure points and being reminded that it is only an influential part of you when you choose to let it in. Let it in when you need it. Be selfish about your ego instead of letting it be selfish for you. *not certified in anything including psychology/massage/keeping house plants alive*

I also could’ve answered them with: I broke my first violin bridge ever, and I don’t live near my go-to luthier now, and as a violinist who’s not a parent, your luthier is as important as the babysitter of your newborn child, and it’s very scary to put your prized 140-year-old newborn in the hands of a stranger and trust them, and when I got it back the new bridge was carved way too low, and then I spent the night working on vocal tracks, and sang the same strenuous harmonies 50+ times, and I have barely any voice, so if I post something I shouldn’t even do vocals because I need to let my voice rest.

I could’ve said that. But that would be a lot of words and I’m supposed to be letting my voice rest.

So, enjoy this creature created this evening, sans-vocals.

I met a man singing in Battery Park a few years ago, who told me his song writing process was taking each story from that day or week, and finding threads between each that connected them. He was from Algeria and had pretty choppy English, so that description is entirely my own words, and he phrased it so much more beautifully than I just did. But I liked the idea of improvising, of threading together, some riffs and themes from the songs on this project. Something that only truly takes shape after revisiting it once the songs are released, and then the themes become apparent individually. An improvised overture. Michael Scott might call it an improv-erture.

Hopefully you find the energy or inspiration to take a risk today, or tomorrow if you’re reading this in bed, or in a few weeks if you’re in bed, but not quite feeling that drive yet, that may make you feel vulnerable, but that you know will refresh your soul. Don’t like, shoplift, or go to that inadvisable upper cliff when you go cliff jumping, or invest in GameStop. Just something small. Or if you find the right stock, go big. Crypto seems to be a safer bet than GameStop. *also not certified in any financial advice*