Nocturne #24 – My Honest Language
This piece explores the deep, existential connection I have with creating music – how it's my truest language and a journey into my subconscious, despite doubts and external dismissal. It's a reflection on why music is more than a hobby or a job; it's fundamental to who I am.
In one of my Nocturne, I mentioned that I was probably quitting music for good. Now I realize that doing so would be like tearing my own heart out.
Music is my most sincere language, the one I use to say all the things I can write, or simply don’t write. In the creative process, my subconscious travels into the deepest segments of my world and gathers sleeping emotions, translating them into melodies.
While creating music, disconnected from the outside world, I lose my perception of time and feel like I’m in a dream. I am happiest and most in love when the coalition of notes and the harmony of sounds align on the tracks of my expression. It’s then that the real reason I sat down and started writing floats to the surface.
For me, creating music is a magical adventure, from the first spark of inspiration all the way to the night I release it. And that moment, when my music reaches your ear, I listen to it with your ear, too (like, nine times). Every single one of these episodes is existential for me.
Music hasn’t brought anything special to my material life, and because of that, I’ve always faced dismissal from both family and friends. But there’s one thing nobody understood:
Music was always far more to me than just business and accounting. My future labels and sponsors can worry about that (also, directors (preferably Christopher Nolan and his peers)).
I don’t know, what can I tell you, my listener, my reader… I think you can read far more in my music than you can in these jumbled writings.
The biggest tragedy is that I don’t consider myself a musician, and certainly not a writer.
And really… Who am I? What do I want?
I know exactly who I am and what I want! (Dammit, I started so well and completely messed it up at the end…)
P.S. Please, just don’t read this f…