A wordless piece, the seed of the melody came from the bassline of yesterday's piece.  Named for the clear Melbourne winter weather of the last few days.

Here's yesterday's song.  It's late, so I won't write too much, instead I'll just share the lyrics. Very loosely inspired by the etymology of Tuesday, a love song

I am the square of sun
That moves across the room
Slow and languid

The fourth in a series of Tuesday improvisations.

I somehow made it to 200!  The third in a series of Tuesday improvisation games.

The second in a series of Tuesday improvisation games.

A series of little improvisation games using the letters of the word Tuesday.  Here is the first.

I pulled myself out of the fog of procrastination to write this one.  Taking cues from the etymology of the word Monday, specifically "Murk Monday", the Scottish name for a solar eclipse that occurred on Monday 29 March 1652, and thermometer.  The harmony also comes from the word Monday, which I serialised.  I don't really experience traditional Mondayitis any more, as I work unconventional hours, but I had plenty of past office job experience to draw on for this one.

I have been severely procrastinating this project, as this and the next few videos will show.  From a series of Yesterday to a series of Today.

From spill to overflow.

I can't quite believe it, but I have made it to the end of six months.  I should write a proper update about how I'm feeling, but for now here's a song.  My starting theme was slow, and branches of a mind map led me to the lyrics.  The melody is mostly improvised save for a little hook, and a few questionable notes snuck their way in and will need to be plucked out when I finally get time to revisit all these songs and do something exciting with them.  What that something might be, I have no idea yet.

A chord taken from The Cause Of Your Calluses, and my clock as a metronome.  I only recorded one take: the lyrics and melody were improvised, and I treated the performance like a meditation.

Hands was my starting point for this piece, and I found it quite meditative to both compose and perform.  This is only the second piece I have performed on electric mandolin.  The other attempt was interrupted by flooding, which was about the time this project really started to challenge me.  I haven't even thought about what to do when it all ends, but I suppose I should watch everything back through from start to finish.  Although each piece of music is not exactly a journal entry, they will certainly reflect my mind and life in that particular moment.  If I can bear to sit through twelve months worth of videos I am curious to see how the music I have made has been shaped by the life I have lived alongside it.

I did my best to perform to the rhythm of my knitting.  It's a lace pattern, and slightly fiddly, which makes this piece nicely wonky.

An ode to dreaming, recorded while the sun was setting.

I was a little behind, so I caught up with a few improvisations inspired by dreaming, wishing and wasting time.  These are three things I've been doing a lot of recently.