One of the effects of living in Los Angeles, is that everyone, their mom and their step brother’s cousin’s dog has a side project that they’re feverishly working on.
Some people end up forfeiting nights out with their closest friends so they can turn their apartment into a deco-collage of crumbled paper, scribbled gibberish and lofty dreams; others end up with insomnia and a stomach ache – they eat, sleep and breathe these ideas and suddenly find their entire mind, body and spirit have been taken over by the ghost of what-could–be. Their passion is the difference between deference and pursuit; their perseverance is that thin line between fantasy and reality.
Passion, like happiness, is contagious.
The difference is that happiness can be passed from person to person on a completely subconscious level: I’m listening to a favorite song and drive into work, when I flash my badge a smile shows in tandem; the next person who enters the studio lot sees some pearly whites, no longer hidden by a stern look but framed by a smile and in parallel, one cracks on their face. And so on, and so forth, ad infinitum. Passion, on the other hand, is that fine line between action and reaction. Passion can’t exist without proactivity, nor would it exist without people to share it with.
Timing is Everything
The great thing about friends, especially as you enter adulthood (…I never said I was there yet; merely entering…) is you find symmetry in each others lives and ironically beautiful parallels between what moves us and what we want to accomplish. A few months ago, I was approached by a friend about an idea they had; and I sat there, open minded and ready to listen. This idea they had, they literally wanted to hit the ground running; they claimed it was only a side project – but what my heart translated was: ‘It’s only my everything.’
She wanted a place where music lovers, creators and promoters could get together and share sets, techniques and knowledge; in a sense, a forum for any and everything related to electronic music and the eclectic culture that surrounds it.
Some people need to be careful what they wish for; we are not those people.
“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”
― Aldous Huxley, Music At Night: And Other Essays
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