over the past month or so i’ve been moving from my old apartment to my new place on the south hill while finishing up the last bits of production on my solo-project. at my new home now, i feel a sense of rejuvenation, and invention. it’s a century old home with creaky floors and tons of character. while the last pieces of this record are coming together, i’ve been reflecting a lot on my relationship to sensitivity. for me, sensitivity is wrapped up in the degrees of which an emotionally charged event can move you to feeling.
i have this memory of when i was a fifth grader. during recess, the other kids and i were playing some kind of game that incorporate a red, rubber ball like you would use for kickball (although i really don’t think it was kickball). at some point in play, the ball bounced unexpectedly off either the asphalt or the body of one of the other kids and hit me square in the face. i cried, and cried. i couldn’t stop crying. sad thoughts flooded my mind. fear of dying, fear of my family dying. a sense of futility in my efforts with school and socializing. all of these overwhelming feelings swelled alongside the pain. the rest of the recess i spent hiding in the class absorbed in my heartache.
this is likely 6-7 yr old me, not 5th grader me.
my best explanation for that experience is that all of my emotions are somehow wired together. like how seeing a dead animal on the road can evoke a sincere feeling of loss informed by the loss of my grandparents. or how jamming a toe or finger can reignite the tinge of a friend who betrayed my trust. i know there are other people who feel this way but i don’t think it’s common. the world can be very overwhelming for someone who experiences it this way.
as i finish up the production of an album largely centered on my feelings of isolation and longing, i feel a new connection to my sense of sensitivity. in adulthood, i’ve learned to cope/numb these overwhelming feelings through stimulus (radio, podcasts, over/always listening to music, overworking, etc). not that any of these stimuli are bad within themselves, but it comes from an inability to confront the depth of my emotions at times (sometimes, all the time). this can lead to a larger fear of creating, then a dissatisfaction with my life. as i write this down now, i’m reminded why it took me so damn long to want to share my own songs in the first place.
i mention all of this because the process of writing this album has changed the course in my relationship with sensitivity. Not only is some level vulnerability required to make the art itself, but as a performing artist my greatest effort will be to relive these vulnerable lyrics and moments collectively. To share them with an audience. to feel them in a room with others. and most of all, this is the option that i’m choosing. from this point forth there won’t be an option to be “not sensitive.” which is scary, but the thought of this also makes me feel alive.
more than ever, i’m ready to share my art with you. if you’re reading this now, it’s really just the beginning. i have so much to show you.
in the meantime, i compiled a handful of interviews of creative folks i admire into this magazine. here's a link to the first digital edition of Echo Chamber Magazine.
-logan