They’re red hot
The title of this post comes from the song “They’re Red Hot” by Robert Johnson but also from the famous group from California, Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Now that I wrote the title and that first sentence, I am not even sure what I wanted to write about in this post in the first place.
Watching some guitar videos today, I remembered how much I wanted to play music. Not just for the fun, but I also wanted to make a living out of it. Sometimes when I played the guitar, I just felt right. Music was almost my only way of communicating some emotions to the outside world.
I used to listen to music until I fell asleep. Listening to the notes and the words (of any song, not just RHCP) was my way of dealing with emotions. And they were red and hot. Red like passion. Red like blood, not the blood of violence but the one that runs through my veins, that makes me alive and makes me feel alive. Red like the blood of Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula. My emotions were also hot like anger, suffering, wounds.
I still feel that way today. Not every day, but there are still moments, when I need to listen to some of the guitar of John Frusciante and the lyrics of Anthony Kiedis. Some of the songs simply capture a feeling that I cannot express.
Today I am cut from a part of myself that lived through the music I played (never in a band, always for myself) and listened. When I wanted to study music, my mother used any lever at her disposal to make me change my direction. I had to find a stable job.
I did. I think I did. But now I feel almost amputated. I have comfort, but I lack a lot of means of expressions. I need to speak about my life, my anger, but I cannot, I don’t always know how to do that. Not in the way that would have been the easiest for me. And that makes me even more angry or sometimes a little depressed. Cycle. A bad cycle.
So maybe these two words are a good start ? Red. Hot.