I made a song.

Here you go.

I used to make music as a means of creative expression.

It’s been a while.

Last weekend I found myself with a free Saturday and felt compelled to get something out. I sat with that persistent nagging of creative impulse— the felt sensation of something asking to come through.

More and more I don’t consider myself any particular type of creative. I resonate with the words artist, writer, painter, poet, philosopher, maker, and creator—yet I do not feel tied to any one of those terms.

Nor do I feel the pressure to.

I simply answer the call to create.

I observe, think, inquire, feel, experience, and express.

The vehicle of expression is far less important to me than the expression itself.

Last Saturday.

I didn’t have the stuff to paint. I didn’t feel like writing. I didn’t want to get messy.

Staying on the couch was preferred.

I had a microphone.

Music.

No. It’s been too long.

Yes, music.

Alright, music it is.

I’ve never made anything quite like this.

It’s a new sound and style for me, one that allowed this song to come together with less friction than I’ve ever experienced.

It was a cold, rainy day. I felt this delicate shade of morose, yet light, serene, and effortless.

That feeling when you’re a little sad, and know that everything is working out perfectly.

This is the result.

It’s called Fall (produced by Velvet).