Meaning

I have come to a conclusion in the last little while.

I am perfectly within my rights calling myself a songwriter.

That sounds silly. Let me try to explain. I've always been first and foremost a singer. I've been singing since I could talk and I grew up in a very musical family. To me, there's nothing unusual about being surrounded by people who are all much better musicians than I. Compared to a lot of the amazing musicians I've been surrounded by all my life, I've always carved out my spot in the whole "music" thing as someone who can sing and that's about it. I tried playing instruments - piano, bassoon, cello, viola, saxophone, finally settling on guitar - but I was always much more comfortable with just singing. First of all, being a singer requires no heavy lifting. Being a cello player does. In my first year of high school, I sang a solo in the school variety show and I became known through the rest of my high school years as "the girl who sings". Which, to be honest, is much nicer than some of the labels I have received over the years. So the singing thing? Not a big deal. Well, no, that's not entirely true - I adore singing. Whenever I get a cold I'm more upset about not being able to sing than about the stuffiness of colds. Singing is like breathing for me - totally natural.

Now, guitar playing, on the other hand - or the feeble bit of piano playing I indulge in on occasion. That's a whole different kettle of fish. I've gotten better but the whole rationale behind me learning guitar was so I could accompany myself singing. Mostly through not wanting to bug people into accompanying me, initially. And then it was the first feeble attempts at songwriting. The process leading towards that went something like this: I like to sing. I like to write. Surely the two can be combined? Thus, my initial songwriting endeavours at about age 13 began. Never let 13 year olds write anything. It's horrific. The term "emo" wasn't in popular usage when I was 13 but that was pretty much what it was. Although, I have learned not to discount things. One line from a song I wrote when I was 13 has actually come back to haunt me and found its way into a song that I now perform that I wrote in 2005 called "Without Me". So I shouldn't be too mean to poor 13 year old Rosie. She did, after all, coin the lines:

/I don't know what to say to you
But that's okay, I never do/

which, to this day, remains one of my favourite lyrics. I know, a little lame to have a "favourite" of something you made. But I understand the sentiment behind it. And it's succinct. And for a 13 year old, pretty darn insightful. (Tangent: Isn't it weird how when you get past a certain age, you almost start looking at the younger version of yourself as a different person? People grow. It's a Good Thing.)

But yes. Songwriting has taken on a whole new meaning for me. Starting from when I started to share the songs I write with other people. I am an extrovert by nature. Songwriting is an introverted kind of thing, I feel. Everyone has to have some kind of balance in them - I feel like songwriting is mine. Music will always hold a very deep meaning for me and being able to make music that can mean something to people is an incredible privilege. I have written countless songs where I try to take a balanced look at things - things like unrequited love, being too scared to be honest with someone, doing something you know is a Bad Idea, etc. I have written silly songs, full of sarcastic comments sung sweetly so you almost miss them (do you have any idea how much fun it is to watch someone's face when you sing a line like "tell me what you had for breakfast" in this really sincere voice? It's fun. Let me tell you.) And I've played around with words and melodies and tried to make them say something. Even if it's something silly.

Somewhere along the process, I have become a songwriter. And it's taken on more of a meaning than just being someone with a pretty singing voice. I can't really pinpoint the minute I "became" a songwriter but it's just hit me recently. I've written a song and I think it's proved to me that I can create something that has meaning out of the mess of emotions that every single human being carries inside them. I've certainly been a mess of emotions recently - a strange, tangled mess, somewhat akin to the large ball of black wool that has been sitting on my desk for the last three weeks and that various people have attempted to unravel when visiting. Unravelling is a messy process. Wool gets all over the room. Things get more tangled before they get better. But in the end, if you unravel the tangles, you have something you can use to create something else. And it can be something really cool. Like a hat or a scarf or a teddy bear or something. Wool is so flexible. I've lost my grip on the metaphor but I think you get the picture.

I have been unravelling and untangling and sorting things out and now even though I'm still not completely wrapped up in a nice orderly ball, there's enough of me that's been sorted out to create things. Things that are really cool and are better than just a long thread by itself. You don't unravel wool so it can sit there. You unravel wool so it can be used to make something. I've been making things. Making songs. Making music. And detangling in the process.

On the 50/90 site, I've unlocked a song I had hidden called "Song for Shane". Shane is a friend of mine who recently died. Another thing to unravel. When things like this happen, you need to mourn and you need to process. I am incredibly lucky that I have shoulders to cry on and people who are willing to hold on to the end bit to keep me grounded while I unravel. And it's because of the people who helped me hold on that I managed to get enough unravelling done to make this song. So thank you. You know who you are and I hope you know that you are appreciated.

Here's a link to the song if you want to have a listen. I think it might be the most important thing I've done as a songwriter yet. It means something to me. And I've learned that I'm a human being, who has human experiences like everyone else - so if it means something to me, it might mean something to someone else. And it might help someone hold on a bit longer. And that is incredibly important.

I've realised I can make something with meaning. Because of this, I can safely call myself a songwriter.

And that's kind of cool.

Hold on,
Rose