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And there they are once again, folks. We always knew the moment would come but, somehow, we expected it to be different this time. Somehow. Well, we were wrong and here they are: the end-of-year retrospectives. Yay!… or, is it?

I must confess those recaps make me usually a bit sad because, it does not matter how much I have reached, I always had bigger plans on my mind when the year started. So, recaps work for me as an (unasked) update on the items in the list of resolutions we all make at the beginning of the year. How many promises were fulfilled? How much progress in our lives?

Not that I have problems with reassessments, not at all! If you read me frequently, and I bet you do, you know that a good part of our meetings are dedicated to promoting strategies on how to deal with changes in the itinerary, unforeseen events and the like. My motto is: Life is like jazz: you have to know how to improvise!

So what is the problem with recaps? Sincerely, I do not know how to explain it, but there is an melancholy air in such compilations of “the best moments of the year”, that makes me blue. Besides, they tend to vary between condescending (“we are all victorious”), and hysterically euphoric (“people are sharing your music in X different countries!”).

I frankly like observing the numbers, the statistics, and finding out the number of playlists in which I was included always puts a smile on my face. In short: I enjoy having access to the amazing amount of data that retrospectives contain, but I do not like the idea of making a spectacle out of it.

Actualy, the end of the year awakens feelings of contemplation in me. Maybe because it is my birthday month, for me retrospectives fall into the big package of “rethink your new cycle”, and to reflect I need introspection, which does not always fit with the current social policy of constant content share.

At least in my astral hell I would like to have a little time to digest the results of a whole year of hard work. I want to celebrate my achievements and think about what can be done, so as not to make the same mistakes. I want to return to my metrics without fear, aware of the place I occupy, without comparisons or competitions.

Would it be too much to ask?

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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It is not new that I complain here about my noisy neighbors and about the apartment building where I live, which seems like a real acoustic shell, which amplifies any type of sound. Therefore, I will not go back to the details of my problem.

Today, I would like to shed light on the solution. No, unfortunately, I do not bring a “one-size-fits-all” solution, that will suit to all your problems, just a strategy that worked for me and that might work for you, too. It has to do with getting out of your “acoustic shell”. Oh, yes, you do have one, trust me on that.

In this case, what I am calling the acoustic shell has nothing to do with where you live, that is, with external influences, which you, ultimately, cannot control, but with what resonates inside your head. The pattern repetitions that we develop have to do, of course, with such external factors, but they usually go far beyond that.

Our acoustic shell will resonate accordingly to how much we nurture this reaction. Asking yourself; “Is my reaction proportional to the action received, or am I adding a generous dose of other problems to them?” may help you take that step aside, whch allows you to have a provileged view of the situation, thus making it easy to manage a problem or critical situation.

Practical example? I recently finished a task which, in theory, was very pleasant (producing the second season of a podcast about comic art research), but turned out to be a nightmare to medue to my, say, technical diffculties.

During over ten weeks I was busy recording and editintg episodes, repeating to myself “get real” mantras (“I volunteered for the chore, nobody asked me to. I did it because I wanted, I made my choice” etc). Despite my goodwill, it did not work at all and I spent the whle time feeling a mix of self-pity and anger.

Okay, but where is the magical solution?, you ask yourself.

The solution (I never said it would be magical), darling is to take things as a grown up. Am I saying you should mute your inner child? Yes, but only for a short time, just enough for you to remember that doing stuff we would rather not is part of life, but it is not the only one.

Grown ups know that, although most of our life is fullfiled by obligations that do not always make sense to us there is also the other part: the things we do because we are passionate about, because we believe they must be done, we believe they must exist.

Stepping aside for a moment, I finally could see the situation through a diffferent perspective and, suddenly, there was no room for feeling miserable anymore. I did what I had to do, and I did it professionaly. Frankly, the result is quite good (check it out), despite the circunstances.

Another thing that grown ups know is how great it feels to get the job done.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Do you know when several small problems add up to the stress of the end of the year and you think you simply will not be able to handle all your tasks? When this happens to me, I feel at odds with all of humanity. In order not to spread even more bad mood around or at least, to be a feisty gal, but with fabulous skin, earlier this week I decided to make an appointment with a beautician for a facial.

The lady on the other side of the phone asked me to arrive at nine o’clock in the morning. I took the task so seriously that I actually arrived ten minutes early. Long story short, I left there at noon.

You might be wondering what kind of facial cleansing lasts three hours. I do not know either, because what I had was standard procedure. The rest of the time was filled with conversation. Not necessarily with me and always on her part.

Frankly, I cannot blame her. Apparently everyone is dying to talk. And talk a lot. Could it still be a remnant of the trauma of mandatory isolation during the Covid-19 pandemic? Were we like this before 2020? Or maybe, and that is personal guess, it is a mix of things with a pinch of anxiety generated by the indiscriminate use of cell phones and exposure to the internet?

The fact is that I left my self-care moment feeling completely exhausted. No kidding: exhausted. All that talking about different topics, without getting anywhere, highly reactive and with a slightly resentful tone made me physically tired.

As everything in life has different aspects, the positive side of this peculiar experience was that it made me question not only the repetitive mental behavior that I had been stuck in for the last few weeks, but it also made me reevaluate my situation.

While waiting for the creams to act on my face, some thoughts arose:

  1. Maybe I am not as bitter towards he world, as I thought I was
  2. Maybe my bad mood is actually below average
  3. Maybe, despite all the problems, I am okay.

Being okay, meaning feeling fine just the way you are, can be revolutionary. After all, well-being has a lot to do with completeness, self-satisfaction and other items that, despite of what the huge wellness lobby out there keep telling us, cannot be purchaised.

Speaking from the perspective of music creation, much of what is produced in terms of entertainment is linked to the idea that a film, a play, a book etc. has the primary obligation to awaken positive sensations and make you feel happy.

I completely disagree with this premise. Just as my three-hour facial was not exactly a walk in the park, but it achieved its goal, the transformation caused by art can come in many ways, through various sensations, and perhaps many of them are not directly linked to a feeling of well-being.

Subjecting creation to the rules dictated by entertainment industry is a gross reduction of the potential of art. Perhaps it is even a subversion of its primary role, which is to move people, to change a state of mind, a way of thinking, of perceiving ourselves on society.

Will you let your world shine beuatifully, just like a post-facial skin?

Be seeing you!

G. F.

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I do not like fake adornments. From wigs (as “high tech” aand expensive as they might be) to fake eyelashes, from acrigel nails to breast implants, from dental lenses to plastic flowers. I am aware that perhaps it is not the nicest confession, but it is the truth. You can put it down to my idiosyncrasies, if you must

However, at a wedding reception I attended recently, the centerpieces offered to guests were small arrangements of plastic lilies and forget-me-nots. I not only happily brought mine home, but also gave it some special place in my decoration, and it is now among the books, on one of my shelves.

Lack of coherence? Let me explain the case and then you can judge for yourself.

The bride and groom in question have been together for over thirty-five years and rose a beautiful family. Despite the desire of the bride to make the union official, the ceremony had been postponed several times, for different reasons, all quite tragic.

With superhuman strength, the bride overcame each of her challenges and made her dream come true. And I was lucky enough to be invited to this special moment.

The ceremony was simple and for a few people only. Everything was done by the family: the food service at the cocktail, the decoration, the souvenirs, and the table centerpieces. All that was made with love, facing the the effort that only workers know about: how to make an already tight salary, just for a moment of celebration, a day to remember.

There was so much love at the gathering, tender affection in every little detail, in every piece of cake offered, in every gesture, every smile in the room. In fact, there was a “good vibe” aura all around the place. How could I refuse to take an object offered in an environment of such love and care?

Another of my idiosyncrasies is that I think that objects can hold some traces of their owners and evoke memories. In other words, they have their own beauty, not related to their shape or material, but a certain, let us say, beauty within.

It is a crazy theory, I know, and it probably only makes sense in my head, but I can guarantee that the memories that come to mind every time I look at the small arrangement on my shelf are not only happy, they are truly beautiful.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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This morning I read another report about the sphere inaugurated in Las Vegas with a concert by the band U2. Feedback on the show has been very positive and everyone seems quite impressed with the tons of LED lights and the (poor words, so worn out) immersive experience.

I wonder if these people have ever been to a planetarium in their lives. I remember memorable shows at fantastic planetariums in Osnabrück, Germany and Lisbon, Portugal. And we are talking about the 1990s and 2000s!

Honestly, I am surprised (in a negative way) by the collective mesmerization, in the worst sense of the word, with inventions that, honestly, are nothing new (the true global cult of cars, so harmful to the environment, comes to mind).

It seems that everything that has been done before social media simply never existed. I would say there is a tendence of treating “old” (pre-social media) events as new stuff, or even worse, sometimes they are considered revolutionary, disruptive etc. The very word “experience” has reached a level of overuse by publicity pieces, that it no longer inspires the slightest confidence.

Thge point here is not to question the quality, much less the merit of the band U2 (who, in fact, neither asked nor need my opinion).The reflection I would like to bring today has to do with the widespread use of pyrotechnics in the most diverse musical events.

How much of our already weakened attention can withstand yet another bomb of visual stimuli and still reserve some attention for the music?

Among the artists you know with astronomical numbers of followers, how many people they brought to the stage on their last performance? Hard to rememeber, right? No wonder, with screens that go up and down, dancers with vibrant choreography and costume changes, musicians are just a tiny detail.

I cannot help but thinking that the sparkling lights are taking a place that should be occupied by the music/musicians.. That is, when we are lucky enough to have musicians on stage.

Currently, not only many festivals host attractions whose performances are based on pre-recorded beats, they also consider lip-sync part of the show. And I am not talking about kind-of-hidden-pro-tools-lip-sync”. I am talking about headline performers who would shameless scream words (“Jump”, “Make some noise”) in their mics, while their pre-recorded song goes on.

I am ready to hear any arguments in favor of these resources, I honestly am. However, I fear that any theoretical contortionism will end in some sort of an absolute defense of the concept of entertainment, which I am not opposed to either.

Previously this year, I discussed the difference between large and small concerts, and I am perfectly convinced that there is an audience for everyone. I do not see entertainment as a problem, not at all. The problem is, when there is nothing but entertainment.

Particularly in relation to music, the problem ist that music production has to be reduced to mere entertainment. This is indeed sad, because it means a loss, a decline in its status a form of art. Have you ever heard someone making a comment like: “Well, I did not like that film/exposition, play, because it is sad and I go out to be happy”? I have the impression that this sort of weird reasoning had spread itself throughout society.

Do you know what would really impress me? That people would no longer be hungry and that, at night, everyone would have a shelter. Other than that, honey, there is no sphere giant enough to impress me, and all I can think of all the buzz is: it has been done, babe.

Be seeing you!

G. F.