MPMF

For those of you who are unfortunate enough not to know, Cincinnati hosts an event called the Midpoint Music Festival. Apparently this happens every year. Not being a native Cincinnatiian (sp?), I did not know about this event until a friend of mine (@redkatblonde) made me aware of it. A label she is involved with (@allnightparty) was hosting one of the venues and told me about it.

Now as you may know, over the last few months I have been taking stock of my life. There are a lot of things that have happened over the last ten years that have molded me, some of them good, some of them bad. Of course, the bad can always be made good, right? That is what they say; and reflection shines on my own history a sense that this is indeed true, if not at times grueling and painful.

I left a lot of my dreams and passions to die for many years.

I am igniting those passions once more.

Music has always been my language. It's been inside of me since I was a baby. My love of it has been stretched, abused, blessed, diseased, empowered and occasionally, if I am fortunate enough, enjoyed. Everything that breathes inside of me and holds any worth at all is surrounded around that melody, the rhythm, the pace and emotion that words simply fail on. It is like trying to describe the beauty of a galaxy, or sex, or the bliss that comes in that rare, difficult place where everything simply is.

So why is it that music is such a fickle lover? I have wrecked myself. I have killed, whether willingly or unwillingly, that secret place inside of me that longs to craft a majestic, inglorious, messy and heartfelt soundscape; the one that words try to capture and yet fail so sadly. I've done a great injustice to myself, and now, I finally believe that this injustice may be coming to an end.

Am I a strong man? Do I have something worthwhile to give? Am I more than an abused, divorced, lost and wandering shell of what I once breathed to be? There's a glimpse of pink and sapphire on the horizon. Am I to ever taste it, or will it always be so many miles out of reach, taunting me like some bitch of a whore who teases to give and yet takes without shame? Or will I take hold of it and ride it into the oblivion that all of God's creation so desperately wants to disappear into?

Yeah, this isn't really about MPMF at all. But it is a testament to what power lingers within the collective that is music; the language that most can at least understand, but few ever truly master.

I hope to write about the shows I saw. There wasn't a single group or performance that was disappointing. This was a truly magical year, and many of the people I were with definitely felt that same thing. Something is growing here. It deserves to be remembered and reflected.

I may open the blog to the public. Though, there are a lot of intense personal notes in my history here. Sadly, I may feel it necessary to erase them. But I have something inside of me, and it wants to be shared.