Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Wednesday, 26 April 2017

300 Words a Day - #24: The Way of Visualization - Part 4

Continuing on from the previous three posts…


Throughout the period of wanting to be a recording artist, I was given clear signs that my visualization practice was working.

After finishing high school I went off to college for two years, where I did courses I didn’t enjoy, and can’t remember anything at all about them, however, I do remember, at this time, falling in love with a synthesizer called a Roland EG-101. I was drawn to this keyboard like a moth to a flame. 



The Roland EG-101 

On my computer at home and at college, I used a picture of this keyboard as my desktop wallpaper, so I would see this image several times a day, every day. I would gaze at it and imagine myself playing it. I would feel the cool keys beneath my fingers and imagine turning the dials.

At risk of repeating myself from previous posts, I hadn’t read anything on the law of attraction at this point.

I was like a kid who looks through a catalogue at Christmas, saying, “I want that, and that and that… and that.”

One day, when I was at college, I was fantasizing about having the Roland EG-101, when my brick of a mobile phone rang.

“What’s up, Dad?”

“You know that keyboard you want?”

“Yeah. I’m staring at it, right now.” (Because it was on my desktop.)

“So am I.”

“What?”

“I was just walking past the music shop, in town, and it’s in the window.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“They’ve just told me somebody returned it because it wasn’t the one they ordered. It’s on discount, too. Do you want me to get it, whilst it’s here? You can pay me back.”

And that’s how I obtained my first piece of kit for my music studio.

Cool, right?

This stuff really works.



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Tuesday, 25 April 2017

300 Words a Day - #23: The Way of Visualisation - Part 3

In the previous post, I went through some of the things I did to make my dream of becoming a recording artist a reality. How I used to sit up in bed, every night, hands together as if I was praying, and picture in my mind what I wanted my future to look like, as if the goal had already been accomplished.

There was something within, an innate knowing, that told me that by repeating this exercise, I would be hooking my dream and reeling it into my experience.

Even in my late teens, when I started to come home under the influence, I would still sit up in bed and do my visualising.

As my bedroom was spinning and all I wanted was to sink into my cold pillow, I can remember a sober part of me asking, “How badly do you want it?”  

I would hurl myself up, clasp those hands, go through the routine and then finally collapse into a drunken stupor.

This dream meant the world to me. 

I was obsessed with it.

I would listen to the music of the artists I wanted to be like as much as I possibly could.

I would go to sleep with my headphones on.

At the cinema I was told to turn my music down - “Off would be better!”

Having a meal with family, I would have at least one earphone in.

I earned £6 a week from a paper round I had. I saved the money to buy albums and singles (it took two weeks, sometimes three, to buy one album.) 

When I got to college, I would spend my lunch money on music. 

My dad was once frustrated at this. I can remember saying, “Would you rather I bought cigarettes?”

That kept him quiet for a bit.


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