Writing as catharsis


Posted in Uncategorized by Lachlan R. Dale on September 22, 2013


Three weeks ago I returned from my trip to the Megalon Valley. My goal was fairly simple; to attempt to regain the inner peace and stillness that has been so painfully absent most this year.

Thankfully that peace was forthcoming. I spent a few days pondering the disintegration of my last relationship; on what the effects were on my psyche; on slowly dissecting the major events of the last few years; on trying once more to define myself in the absence of the reflective gaze of a significant other. I gave myself time to properly analyse the end of that period of my life, and thus provided myself closure. I worked to find a meta-context to which to place the events of this year. I reconsidered some of my long-standing aims; suspecting at least a few were a compensation rather than desirable in essence.

I sat on the grass under the sun and stared at ancient cliffs. I let my mind wander. I variously emptied and filled my mind with the impossibly-beautiful surroundings. I listened to birds. I drew. I took my time cooking. And, of course, I played guitar.

As my psychological crisis began to fade, I shifted my focus from contemplation to construction and set about recording the acoustic material which has taken up the majority of my creative efforts this year. These recordings represent difficult experiences; in moments of depressive paralysis I would reach for my guitar and play along to these songs; they acted as a balm to help slowly but surely soothe my mind.

I went into the mountains with around six completed songs and a few rough ideas. I left with eleven recorded. My friends loaned me some nice gear – an American Telecaster, a 70s Vibrolux, a vintage Fender Reverb Tank, another nice tube pre-amp – and I had the time to experiment and slowly lay down my ideas.

I left that perfect cottage in a state of calm, relaxation and acceptance I have never felt so deeply before in my life. I truly believe within that short time I was able to make considerable progress over the course of that week, and I have taken much back with me.

I feel changed; more at peace; more at ease; the tension between my shoulders has vanished, and my life has once more opened up before me. I feel as though I possess more energy than ever before. I can still feel the afterglow of contentment – and take no small amount of solace in the fact such deep stillness is less than seven days away from the roar and noise of my life.

(My acoustic material will likely see release in the next few months)