I can't remember which author, in his biography, said something along the lines of "
I wasn't sure I was a writer but I was sure I was nothing else."
Looks like a first composition gig may be coming my way in the not so distant future. It's an odd feeling to see things potentially getting into motion after so long. Obviously, that's when the impostor syndrome rears its head.
For the last couple of years, when people would ask me what I did, I'd usually reply that I was a "housewife", and that I also wrote music for my wife and that I was putting together my portfolio. I've never been inclined to call myself "musician", not formally anyway - to me, that's sort of a title bestowed upon one, and one that you constantly have to earn.
In my world, the notion of "unemployed musician" doesn't really exist - because, if you don't find work as a musician, you can still find work doing whatever. I come from a very blue collar type of background, and it's odd for me to have gone through the last couple of years as a stay-at-home husband, even though I sure kept busy.
I guess meeting my wife forced me to challenge the notion. Even in tough times when the gigs were few and far between, it was clear to me that she was a singer, born to sing, born to be on a stage. But it's hard to apply that to oneself.
I still think of myself as a nobody, but she refers to me as a "musician" and a "composer" - actually, that potential gig, like all the rest, came through her because she has all the connexions. But I have a tough time accepting that title. I'm just a guy who dabbles w/ music. There's nothing mystical or magic or formal about it - I just naturally gravitate towards that field.
But more and more, it seems as if I have to look and even be the part. It's weird to think that an old-school hard ass, bigoted ignorant such as my dad who did all he could to smash our ambitions and remind us that manual labor was our lot should end up having raised two "artists" like me and my younger brother - who's an amazing painter and a musician in his own right.
But I guess it worked as he certainly instilled self-doubt in at least one of us.
I am lucky that we don't depend on my skills for a living, because there'd be a heck of a lot more pressure. Still, I can't help but feel something like vertigo when I think of having to come up with music, something very specific, for an exact duration, and basically on command. I've done it a few times in my late 20's and 30's but, I guess I had a bit more arrogance, and I dove head first.
Contemplating that fist step - with a bit more wisdom and being of grateful disposition - certainly feels odd. Yet awesome. :)
Did I just pull a SonicFan?