Eight years ago… Eight god damn years ago… Look at that baby face.
Footage from 2010 Mortal Angst Tour — Arizona, California, Nevada, Oregon, and Washington
It’s almost halfway through 2018 and it has been over a year since I last picked up my bass. However, I’m going to try and change that later this year because quite honestly, I don’t feel like a whole person… and I haven’t since I put the thing down.
What prompted me to step away? Plenty of things.
Just like pursuing a writing career, it takes a lot of determination, perseverance, energy, patience, and grinding. But unlike the solitary nature of writing, you have to rely on band-mates to have the same drive, the same vision, and a cohesive schedule, because if not, the end result always ends up being lackluster.
When you and your three other band-mates are not on the same page, rehearsals, writing sessions, and live shows become more of a choir than a passion.
When my father died in October of 2012 from cancer, it sent a shock wave through my world. He was young, he was a gym monkey unlike my scrawny ass; strong and tough… The immigrant kind.
Deep depression, lack of focus, and absolutely no patience were the elements I brought to the storm of other problems slowly eating away at my musical career. In 2014, Kama-Mara split ways.
I received my first bass at the age of twelve or thirteen (whatever age you’re in fifth grade) and every since then, music was LIFE. I’m thirty years old now… More than half my life has been dedicated to it. But, after mi padre bit the dust, I decided to reevaluate my life and take it into a new direction — part of me thinks I walked away because my father is the one who got me into music and it hurt to know he couldn’t listen or watch me play anymore.
That said, I liked writing. I liked comic books, movies, books, stories in general.
I was scared shitless to say the least, turning my back on the only thing I ever really knew, but I figured I’d give it a go.
Here I am now. I think I’m doing “okay” so far.
But, as I mentioned earlier, I think it may be time for me to dip my toes back into the groove pool.
My question for you other writers: what other creative passion did you neglect/give up, if any at all, to focus on writing? Why?
Feel free to comment here or on the Twitter thread.
This was the last album we released. We recorded it just a couple months after my father’s death. To this day, when I listen to it, I can hear the catharsis in my voice — I really let the fuckin’ world have it. Screaming like a banshee can be therapeutic.