Living Discovery

What are you. 

hearing? Something

I strain to

sense – the chant

of your life –

A mystery 

even to those who

most love you –

perhaps even

to yourself.

I see you.

Walking along the water-

lime; you are hearing

your feelings as

chants. As bells

or a gong, as a single

struck piano key,

repeating.

Shore birds skitter

at your feet, notes,

too, and the gilded light,

The wind. You are hearing

Everything we need.

- Eric Treanor April 22nd 2023

Alone. 

Thinking.

Moment of Silence. 

10 minutes.

Meditate.

Gone…

I

Awake.

7am, July 27th, 2022.

Sam will be coming home at 9pm tonight

from his 2 month trip through Europe. 

This is the end, 

I thought.

Opening the curtains, I climbed out of bed.

My dry warm feet landing on the all too familiar wooden surface.

My home. 

Bending down 

I entered my playground.

Black chair, 

Sitting,

a moment,

alone

all summer. 

I chose this.

Why? 

Touching the spacebar, I began on what would be my final project of summer.

~

I started playing over a variety of beautiful chord progressions. 

In time, the chords portrayed a strong resemblance to the feelings I was experiencing that day.

I leaned over to turn the stereo speakers to full volume. 

Feeling every vibration of sound, I serenaded melodies in my head.  

‘This is visual material.’ 

I thought.

I cycled and looped the sound on repeat. 

Slowly, 

I closed my eyes. 

~

Flashes of dark blue melancholy surfaced. 

on a tightrope, the mysterious depth cried below me.

emptiness, nothingness,

A vast space of random chronology. 

Looking up,

Rifles circled my temple, 

Crosshairs aiming between my face..

I opened my eyes.

 

~

Focused, I layered different levels of weight on my keys.

‘What could compliment my sound?’

chilling, cold, mysterious, sad.

This was its language. 

More importantly, the feelings I wanted. 

Looping the sound, I sat still.

Listening to craft an effective plan. 

‘What does it need?’

Or.

‘What do I want?’

Time passed.

Stepping away, 

I ate lunch, 

read in the backyard,

allowed time to calm my emotions,

Anyhow. 

~

I looped the sample and pressed play. 

Leaning back, focusing on all the flavors,

There it was again, 

expected,

A need for change. 

My pulse hardened. 

Eyes widened, I peered deep within myself. 

Storm, Instinct, whatever the condition may be,

Arose the question: 

‘Do I replace the sound?’

‘Start over?’

‘After 3 hours?!’

‘Nonsense!’

‘Don’t give up.’

I thought. 

~

As the sample cycled, the more weight I felt gripping me.

Strangled, Tachypnea,

my roots, foundation,

I was losing belief.

The obsolete colors weren’t vibrant.  

The sound was hollow, filled with muddiness, and lacked true clarity of emotion.

far away it waved in the distance.

reverberating in a cavern with majestic beauty

yet, with missing flares of colorway. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Glancing over, I saw 6 hours had passed. 

My jaw tightened.

‘Gather yourself.’

Taking a deep breath, I repeated:

 

‘We can do this.’

~

All summer, on numerous projects, ‘bland’ was common.

The dullness of simplicity, made me learn and experiment with plug-in software to brighten the colors of my projects. 

Jumping into different realms of the cosmos, I was determined to make this work.

I tested my chords with reverb, echos, flangers, distortion, compressors, modulation, pedalboards… 

any software I knew of.

Despite my efforts, the tools were altering the sound from its original intention.

No longer sad, but mellow.

The harmony and melody didn’t have the harshness I needed. 

At this point, I began losing focus.

Heart racing, 

Floodgates,

cracking inside me. 

‘All I wanted was to create memories with my art and I believed these chords could.’ 

Pulling every element apart to construct melody.

All for the purpose of aligning how I am feeling.

I slammed my hand on the table.

Out of frustration, my unsatisfactory result was inevitable. 

I couldn’t emulate how I felt today.

Or at least to the degree I wanted to.

The day drew dark and the sound, well, got worse. 

Nearly 10 hours, 

time struck its chord.

The darkness of night closed my curtains 

goodnight. 

Sam would be arriving in 30 minutes.

Sleeping my computer, I turned my chair and stood up.

Staring at the ground, emotions began to surface.

too long like they usually do. 

‘ How does this continue to happen? ’

Blinking, thinking,

No words to describe the wall.

I knew what had to come.

Burying my head in my arms.

I burst into tears.

Every ounce of emotion in my body felt the wounds it processed through the eternity of this journey.

‘It isn’t time’

 I repeated.

And time is all I think about now. 

                                                                                

                                                                       ~

II

Before leaving for the airport, I lied against the wall near our hallway closet and allowed my mind to wander:

“Why can’t I be satisfied with life the way others are?”

“Why must I make it so difficult?”

“Why am I investing all this effort in something that doesn’t return the value of my precious time?” 

“Why do I wish to be alone away from everyone and not socialize with others?”

“Why do I avoid being uncomfortable around others?”

Stop.

Please Stop.

How do I make it stop…

I can’t stop thinking about time.

~

Sam’s arrival put to perspective my vision wouldn’t come true. 

I had 2 months to try and create amazing art and it simply didn’t happen. 

It killed me. 

This past year, I have swayed like a plastic bag in an alleyway.

enveloped in a vacuum of air, incarcerated in a vortex. 

incapable of breathing or seeing outside the barriers of my gusted walls.

Hardened by the feelings of nature and energy, the environment perpetrates my delicate purpose of active living.

I am afraid. 

Hopelessness scars me. 

The wounds have perpetuated my slumber as I suffer the anxiety of being trapped in the whirlwind for eternity. 

This state of being brings about overwhelming feelings of sadness from time to time.

~

Throughout my life, to override these emotions, I’ve identified and pursued places of sanctuary.

I define sanctuaries as places of escape; an avoidance of the outer world. 

The outer world is what we wake up to every morning of our lives, the place where we must try and make our living. 

The inner world, I argue, is neither work nor monotony. 

For numerous reasons, at my own fault, I have struggled in finding a place in the outer world. 

Music, however, is a beautiful sanctuary of the inner world. 

It is a realm of creative performance. 

A space of expression, identity, and mysterious wonder.

An innovation of self.

Through the performance of music, I venture through various environments in my mind. 

The creative space unlocks beautiful pathways of unique experiences within my own consciousness.

The pursuit of initiating my creation is much grander than anything I’ve done in the past.

Basketball has rules and boundaries–unlike music. 

There are no rules in this space, no boundaries and limitless potential with every sound or project that is created.

a wormhole  of dreams and psychotics.

Rules are assumptions not absolutes. 

It is a divine world that transcends emotion to adventure in the very realm of our individuality and feelings.

In sanctuary, I’ve learned the  inner world of ourselves is filled with a variety of universes.

There are endless pathways and possibilities. 

When I make a discovery it is not unusual to concretize a formula. 

Like clouds, the repetitive process of composition differentiates from project to project. 

The repetition carries rewarding moments of monumental growth. 

These experiences of spiritual transcendence, also termed moments of glory, give inspiration to continue through the hardships that naturally occur overtime.

It would be wrong of me to not credit Albert Einstein for teaching me the pursuit of conquering the problem.

‘ His tenacity in sticking to a problem for years, in returning to the problem again and again— this is the characteristic feature of Einstein’s genius. (New York Times April 21st 1955) ‘

An optimist. 

He was. 

~

The long term goal sits in the back of my mind, but I will never forget some of the great projects I made this summer.     

Music has been the most beautiful and unique experience of my life.

Especially in bringing meaning and purpose to live. 

The endless phononeum of never knowing what I will make is a hysterical addiction. 

There are days I spent over 12 hours composing and programming music. 

My addiction is not necessarily the creative process, but rather what am I capable of making 

in the moment.

In the time I have spent making music, 

I’ve been alone.

My work reflects it –

dark isolated spaces.

‘headphone music’. 

I call it. 

I am comfortable with my music, not being for most people.  

In fact, most of the real art I care for are supported by aspiring European artists.

 

Which is something I wasn’t expecting. 

My intention, at most times, is to bring a unique experience to my listeners.

I want to construct uncanny melodies and gain respect through the craftsmanship of beautiful structures.

These attributes, of seeking uniqueness, I argue, define the greatness of an artist.

However, greatness, and our definition, will be discoursed with art's newly developed relationship to AI technology.

~

AI will shift the music industry in a remarkable direction.

Alone, it can craft songs, put samples together, and even have our favorite artists featured on our music.

The trickling effect of the inevitable will change the course of how music is created, released, and copyrighted.

Whether that is good,

Who knows.  

Historically, music identity has always shifted in relation to the advancement of technology and society.

Music is infiltrated by culture - in the present moment. 

The spirit shifts in context to society.

Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich, considered one of the greatest composers of the 20th century, was threatened by Stalin to death if he continued to create experimental music rather than the necessary propaganda to empower his reign. 

Today, music producers research cultural trends to be discovered and have the opportunity of financial success. 

The vast majority conjure with familiarity and abide by popular music culture to align themselves with a community of like minded people. 

The context and course of human history is most compelling, to learn through works of art in my opinion.

Art that changes generations of art.

How can you not be inspired?

It has the ability to tap into our deepest and darkest insecurities.

It is transcendental.

A mirror reflecting the self.

In inhibiting knowledge, we build the foundation and perception of values to our livelihood.  

Thus explains why the drive and motivation to pursue knowledge, leads to not only the ability to change ourselves, but affect the people around us.   

                         ~

In the process of self-reflection and reading, 

I am aware I have many areas to grow. 

Learning to love the self, on a balanced level, is most important in pulsating influence to others.

I never have.

I don’t want to say this, but I am extremely sensitive and emotional. 

Hence, why I live in my internal world. 

I am aware of both how I feel and others feel around me. 

Throughout my life, or whenever I became a conscious being, I have put overwhelming pressure to not fail.

Wrong decisions, mistakes, and being unforgiving,

Pushes me away from the outside. 

I analyze decisions as failures rather than stepping stones to success.

My life experiences, and societal institutions, have programmed me to live this way – in root of the adventures I have had in my life so far. 

My twenties have been filled with various epilogue experiences. 

Each chapter feeling written, yet my true passion, of falling in love with this life, has yet to start.

I’ve made a handful of wrong decisions and consequently any negative emotion I feel,

forces me back to what makes me comfortable.

The ‘I told you so’ attitude.  

Pressure has firmly gripped me away from believing in the pursuit of what I love.

Being the analytical thinker that I am, I cannot justify a direction in my life because what can go wrong first comes to mind. 

I have Confined myself in safety and simplicity to avoid the tragic emotion I feel upon failure.

Or allow any possibility of discovering I am not good at this. 

I’ve read books, 

Mind Gym was my bible in middle school,

 yet I never have been able to overcome the pulsing identity of being a failure. 

To avoid its trauma, I live in the realm of the motionless childhood.

A place where stress is none-exist. 

A place of avoiding the anxious cyclone of society.

A place of staying away from the machine.

My sensitive wires can't bear the sadness I see on others' faces.

I can give all my love, but alone I still feel.

In a transit zone, I am in a space where I collect all these impressions from our world yet feel distant and the let down of every emotion not being real.

A dissonance from reality that keeps me home as that is all that I see as real. 

Every experience I live, I internalize.

I connect the information of awareness, and with it, I characterize and compare where I stand amongst others.

I mold myself in a place at the bottom of the barrel.

A crab in a bucket. 

I hope some sense is made now why I was so sad on July 27th 2022.

I am not making this music, for the amenities or paramounts of the outside world. 

I am making music to fall in love with myself. 

To accept who I am and not allow the disappointments of the outside define me.

Adventuring in the sanctuary of being present.

I am simply seeking a place of contentment with who I am. 

Nirvana. 

I dream everyday of finding a point of time where I learn to be comfortable and confident with who I truly am. 

I hope to rally the confidence to express and share to the world. 

~

I’ll never forget the experience of putting a t-shirt on every chair at Oracle arena and listening to “Dissect” on Kanye West’s album “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.” 

Specifically listening to Kanye discuss how forces, whether it be people or culture, take advantage of insecurity to place you in a box.

Consequently, allowing judgments to formulate your identity.

I want to surround myself with people who don’t tell me what I am, but who tell me what I could be.

People who challenge and push me to be better than I believe I can.

It’s hard to find close people like that.

The meditation of reflection makes me realize how affected I’ve been by others. 

Past stigmatizes my insecurity. 

I am easily discomforted when talking about my creative work. 

I begin to sweat and naturally I want to avoid the conversation. 

I listen to my work and my thoughts are:

“no one will  listen to this type of music.” 

“What the hell is this?” 

“What are you even trying to do?”

Or most of all,

“How did it come to this?”

I’ve grown tremendously on coping with these alarms. 

Given the amount of work I have put in. 

Moving forward has been easiest when I focus on the next project rather than the disappointment of the one I just made.  

I’ve established who I am.

but learning to be comfortable with that, still needs some work.

I hope to do more of that in 2023 and for years to come. 

IV 

The time ticks on.

I look up at the ceiling. 

Time ticks on. 

I can’t help but feel like Danny, 

Dropped off on the side of the highway…

Time ticks on…

IV

The truth of my creative self is arguably the most important element of being an artist. 

Deconstruction and murder of self is the phononeum. 

Killedmonk is the epitome of my identity.

Despite the process of my work not curating to excellence, I respect and am satisfied with my decision to improve my production and understanding of music the past two summers.

The process of art creation cannot have an outlook of win and loss.

It’s, again, about experimentation of formulas. 

Creative formula is a virtual playground of abstract freedom. 

A space cadet venturing in different environments to find peace within yourself.  

It may take years to discover the mystery of undone. 

And that is ok.

At the beginning, I didn’t have this point of view.

I sought immediate success early on.

It was viewed as a gateway out of the conditions of my situation. 

I wanted freedom and a path to avoid the occupations I was undertaking.

Sitting in the Chase Center parking garage for hours just to make sure vehicles didn’t park where their superheros did is not my passion.  

Running miles everyday as a valet at the Ritz Carlton for the wealthiest guests in the world in hopes of getting a chunk of change is not my passion.  

Handling the financial transactions for a multi-billion dollar corporation is not what I will do while I am here.

These paths, where they are leading me to, for me, 

are unfulfilling.

But I still punish myself for it– 

at times. 

                    ~

Inner sanctuaries are places where I can avoid the social anxiety I feel from these decisions.  

There are instances when my anxiety peaks so high,

I begin to lie. 

I lie in many cases I don’t realize. 

I lie to strangers. 

I lie to avoid the honesty of who I am. 

I lie to feel good about myself. 

I lie to build a mirage of the ideal self I wish to be. 

The lying removes the guilt of not being good enough for their attention.

 Painting the facade that ‘I am doing well’ and for them not to worry. 

Or

that my path is working exactly how I planned it.

But in all honesty. 

‘ I have no idea what the fuck I am doing.’

Hayden, to over 100 people of his closest family members/friends at his first show, said this.

This is not only a reflection of true artistry, but the empowering affects honesty has when heard from someone else.

It makes you feel not alone.  

~

At Saint Mary’s, I believed my pain and experiences were from the variables of my environment. 

I deemed myself as “special” and “unique” to the characters who socialized next door. 

The culture of riding our egos and spitting bullshit with nothing feeling genuine or real 

turned me away. 

I’ve learned, as I have grown older, this mindset was built on the philosophy that I was the only one experiencing social anxiety and struggling to find a community or group of friends.

This justification pushed me away from others and made me accept

my conditions.  

The hard truth, however, is I didn’t want there to be a possibility of experiencing a deeper pain than what I was already feeling.

I didn’t want to develop relationships with other people who would potentially hurt me and abandon me– like my father did. 

Relationships were threats.

So, I made a dumb decision and avoided them all together. 

My heavy emotions made it hard. 

~

Given my college environment, 

I decided I wanted to create a unique experience with myself my senior year. 

This was the very beginning of my music journey. 

I decided I was going to create an album. 

 On January 16th, I published my first album: “The Major Drum Instinct.”

It was an album created to help me with the emotional struggles I was experiencing in college.

The process of making this album opened me to new sanctuaries of learning and pushed me to be both a critical and creative thinker. 

I needed an outlet to speak on all the beautiful knowledge I was attaining when I was at Saint Mary’s. 

The 4 years at Saint Mary’s was the foundation that built Killedmonk. 

I realize that now more than ever. 

This decision was supported with the belief that I was unique and I needed to showcase it to others.

However, upon release, the album put in perspective who I was.

Nothing.

Musically laughable.

 

However,

Looking back now it was a major period of growth.

It was my first step in unfamiliar territory. 

The true beauty of the album was its representation of my values and learning who I am.

From this moment,

It is no coincidence why I continue to make music.

Despite not reaching the pinnacle of my creation, there is fulfillment by the process.

~

Today, despite being alone in my music creation, my astounding improvement over the last year and articulate instrumentals I have created thus far, has been rewarding.

All this work garners that feeling of purpose.

It is an awakened experience of harmony.

The mystery of the path it is leading me to is exciting!

It is the first and only thing that feels to be in the right place.  

In a place where I can not only be myself, but love the person I am becoming. 

The routine, progression, repetition, is a curation of becoming a master of the arts.

How far can I go?

I don’t know.

But that doesn’t matter.

What matters is this is my passion.

And with passion, I am growing and learning how to overcome the fear of myself and learn to love again. 

All the mistakes, missteps, hardship, confusion, frustration, anger, and suffering will be experienced the rest of my life.

I am done running away.  

To lay my fingers on my piano keys.

Is my beautiful mystery of being present on planet Earth.