Musicians Block

Musicians Block

Every single night it is the same, and here I am again; dreaming about how things can be. Being a musician is a constant struggle and it's at these times when you realize that music is inspired by everything. The number of times I have counted the amount of bricks on that wall are innumerable; dosing in and out of conscience, just staring at that bare white ceiling, wondering how life could be...

Birds are singing in the distance, while the trees whistle a gentle lullaby calmly in the swift breeze. I am suddenly flying, in a dream world where anything can happen. There is a rainbow, multi-colours of notes reflecting off the glistening lake. A faint murmuring of a train buzzes through the air, merely a dot in the distance. Closer and closer it travels; while further up I travel, I have to shield myself from the bright lights gleaming down on me – dazzling my gaze. I start to feel anxious. A flock of geese fly past me, and I am so sure that their faces are too familiar to be true. My head is spinning, the perplexity of this place simply overwhelms me. All of a sudden the train is right by my side, disturbingly close. What's going on? Bang! I am pummelling to the ground, feeling more and more weighted than ever. The wind rushes through my hair but yet still pushes me yet faster downwards...

Blood rushes to my eyelids, and I arise to the sound of my own heavy breathing and the screeching of my alarm clock. It takes me a minute to come to... I slam my alarm clock off. So here it is, yet another awakening from an unearthly dream – exactly what I need to kick start another challenging day in the life of an, as of yet, unprofessional musician.

I always believed that suffering, hard work, and commitment are the key elements in achieving your lifetime goal. That sole reason drives me to why I am standing here in the early dawn of the morning, stumbling down the stairs in order to seek refuge beside the grubbiness of the morning kettle. I can hear birds tweeting away in the distance, grouped in a mass sing song - almost taunting me.

What anybody would give to achieve their goal in life. For most it is the multi-million hilltop houses; the endless rows of custom cars, never touched by a soul yet still immaculately furnished; along with the awe-inspiring acres of boundless land, wildlife unconfined, living with no restrictions.

When I am in my most entrepreneurial state of mind I tend to think about those riches; and lose track of how to get there. How to get the money? Well, that is the slight flaw in my plan. I tend to ponder the thought that having those privileges relies solely on luck and fate. However, with this being the real world, you don't get 'Money for Nothing'.

I had been raised around the musical lifestyle, it is all I know. Which therefore greatly influenced me into taking this path of life, no matter how hard the endless struggles are. I have always been inspired by the great names, and I have always vowed to follow in their footsteps – which would be a dream come true, almost literally. At the time I made the fairly easy decision to be a musician, I still had little knowledge of the tasks which I had set ahead of myself. The endless, thoughtless days which followed simply astounded me. 'Musicians' Block' is what I used to call it. Yes, exactly comparable to the well known 'Writers' Block'. But this was the extreme, some people vaguely recognise that endless days of work often produce no results whatsoever – and this is a musicians great weakness.

A few years have past since I set off on this long and winding road. Now with a plethora of musical riffs and unrevised lyrics I am well on my way and still continue to strive for my goal. I will soon be on my way to the extravagant studios on the Hollywood Boulevard, the neatly perfected row of elegance overwhelms anybody who, at least, has a vague like-minded element to mine. This is not simply an underestimated dream any more, this is the real McCoy. The end is in sight, and this long road to ruin has been evermore challenging; as if it is set there before my drooping, heavy, eyes...

The innumerous expanse of plain, oak-polished doors tower over me, then fill out along the grandeur corridor ahead. Elegance is the first word to strike me, however, this place is wordless... simply amazing. Radiant windows filter the Sun's beaming rays into the studios while the gleaming control desks sparkle admist the sunlight, simply inviting me inside. I open the door, the handle ice-cold to the touch. It slams behind me with a deathening thud; shattering the frame and echoing along the corridor – now looking as bare as can be, no classy decorations, no exuberant painted canvases, no well-dressed tables with any luxurious chocolates on offer, lifeless; and as quickly as it came, it went. Without warning, all was engulfed in darkness, my hand barely visible an inch from my face. I trudge along the corridor, without eyesight I have to resort to my other senses to acknowledge my whereabouts and direction – which means nothing if I'm not even aware of my destination. The scent of fresh leather surrounds me and brings a twitch to my nostrils, the scent guides me through this labyrinth. An eerie feeling of discontent flows over me, like a shark swimming through my veins, and all the time not forgetting to swim right to the tip of my fingernails – causing them to twitch uncontrollably. As I detour off the main corridor my blood retreats to my heart, scampering from the warm surface. A shiver speeds up my spine as I force through some doors; the wood being the sole welcoming, homey touch to this unwelcoming new world.

The sweet sound of music plays in the distance as I still stumble along down this desolate corridor. The soothing music is a welcoming light to this mysterious moment, so consequently I take another detour and follow the vibrations. As the music becomes louder I cast my mind back to remember my dreams. My dream to compose the very music which will inspire millions of others. Music is the one single thing on this Earth which brings peace into a community, nomatter how large. This creative appreciation for the same things is what makes a difference.

The music now engulfs me and everything around me. I look at myself through the glass – I see myself as a successful musician. In the grand scheme of things I would like to know what was happening; but as this is too good to be true, I try to lay off the fact that this may all just be a dream within a dream. This is not just perfection, this is paradise. I watch myself recording my own music, some of the compositions I recognise as the ones sitting on my table at home, and some of them are new inventions. This dream world is way much more than I can handle, and this paradise reels away from me.

I swirl into conciousness and stare straight ahead of me, fixating on the care free wildlife outside the window. The thought that my dreams may come true one day is the motivating factor I needed. Maybe this could be the start of something big. I grab my graphite pencil and start scribbling away. The thought of seeing myself making a difference through music is an opportunity of a life time. Would you ever turn down an opportunity like that? And so we start yet another day in the life of, as of yet, an unprofessional musician.