When Singers Hang...

Things might start a bit dark, with caustic humor and cynical comments about the sysiphusian task of continuing to record and make music flying around. We might be whining a tiny bit about the frustrations of our chosen profession, about the changing climate in the music business - wait, is there still a music business? - nodding knowingly to what is said, recognizing the issues discussed as our own. But gradually we start to remind each other and ourselves about the great fortune that brings us to this moment, to this table at the French Roast on a rainy February afternoon. Yes, what we have chosen to do is incredibly hard to pull off. The obstacles are plenty and sizeable. And we constantly have to rise up above ourselves to keep from being pulled into the vortex of paralysis and procrastination. But we get to do what we love. We get to pursue our greatest passion with everything we've got (well, ok - still got to make money doing whatever it is we each need to do to pay the bills). Nobody is holding a gun to our heads, forcing us to press on with this madness and folly that is our calling. And we do find solace in each other - kind of like a vocalist support group.
Two hours, a meal and some fortifying coffee later, we step back out of the beautiful afternoon bubble, a little bit lighter and a bit more heartened by each other's company. Tomorrow we'll get up in the morning and start rolling that rock up the mountain all over again. For today let it just plummet into sweet oblivion.