Writing this song was a pretty frustrating experience. I just acquired a Pickaso guitar bow. This miniature bow is meant to empower acoustic guitar players to create sounds similar to those made by instruments like cellos and violins. It's a clever little tool, and it was quite effectively marketed to me in Instagram ads featuring beautiful melodies in video clips that made it seem fairly effortless to use.
It's not effortless, and that's okay, but in my arrogance I figured that if I sat down at my computer to record something, I'd just figure it out. I haven't figured it out yet. Before I can create melodies and harmonies, I need to conquer the basics. I can't consistently create a pleasing tone, free of squeaks and overwhelming dissonant overtones. Little by little, I abandoned each attempt to layer a more sophisticated melody over this track. Eventually, I pretty much lost interest in this song.
I'm glad that I bought the guitar bow, and I'm glad I took a swing at creating something with it. Now I'm going to take a big step back and try to learn how to use it. Meanwhile, here's a little meditation on impermanence.
lyrics
Phonograph
Pops and cracks and that's okay
On the walls
Colors bleed and fade away
It begins to seem that no one's out to get us
Even we are bound to time
Listen to
Mystic on the sidewalk praying
All her words
Drifting up to fade away
It begins to seem that no one's out to get us
Even we are bound to time