A Box on the Bucket List

Hey guys!

This post is going to be short this week. I’ve been spending way too many hours in the past few days working on a project that I am currently super, super excited about. It’s my first full-length, fully mixed song that I am crossing my fingers will turn out professionally enough to put on Spotify!!! That’s a huge bucket list item for me, and if all goes according to plan, the track will be ready by the end of this month. So… keep a lookout for that!

I’m currently recording on my Yeti microphone with GarageBand and my Mac pro. It’s far from a professional set-up, but it’s also incredibly amazing to see just how much someone with zero (and I mean ZERO) experience recording can do with just a few tools. This has proved to me that literally anyone can be a recording artist if they so choose to be. As long as you put in the time to figure out how your software works, you’ll be able to produce some really awesome stuff.

This new song is called “i used 2 sleep with my phone” (I’ve been feeling the artsy lowercase titles lately) and is my attempt at a typical angsty pop song–which is something I do not ever write. It also is definitely influenced by my experience here at UMich with the a cappella scene. At this point I feel like I have a whole choir of my own voice singing behind me on the track.

I will update on here how everything is going every week until the track is released, but as for right now that’s all I’m going to say! Thanks for reading, and if anyone else is a GarageBand fanatic, let me know! I’d love to listen to some of your stuff.

-Josie

Theory of Moving On

Theory of Moving On

By Erika Bell

The warm

chocolate-filled,

wine colored,

flowered,

date nights

are among me again.

Three months ago I thrived in this time.

I twisted my curly hair,

knotted it around my polished ring finger

and you rubbed my knee

sending soft shots of confirmation through my veins.

Though, I am here again.

Not here, where we were.

Somewhere new.

I look across the table and

you’re not scratching your scruff

and talking about the impending doom of the world

and I’m not staring into your glossy hazel eyes

as you wolf down that spinach dip.

I look into a dark brown set of eyes now.

He talks of working out.

There’s no scruff to scratch.

He eats his Greek salad with a fork

and

a

knife.

The bedazzled night is above our heads

like a giant headlight on my heart.