Chapter 4.3: Talent / Implanted Seed - Seed -

Talent

I am living by chance. I am breathing.

Just because I have been able to work as a musician for a long time, it doesn't mean I believe I have any special talent. I continue to wander on the brink of despair, hoping to find something in the very end. Yes, I realized this while writing this book. Perhaps I have the "talent to create music without talent" after all.

The concept of "talent" itself is dubious, but in my opinion, a person with talent is someone who can see everything, the contours and intricacies of a work, from the very beginning. When an offer comes, or even if no offers come, they already have a clear vision from the first note to the moment the last note fades, when they imagine the next song.

This is just one example, but because I don't have that vision at all, I may think of those who possess it as talented. It's a relative talent from my perspective.

In my case, I can see things accurately, but the resolution is very low, blurry like loading the internet with an old dial-up connection. I am extremely limited in what I can do, and my mind is empty. No, it's filled with emptiness.

This is just one example, but because I don't have that vision at all, I may think of those who possess it as talented. It's a relative talent from my perspective.

In my case, I can see things accurately, but the resolution is very low, blurry like loading the internet with an old dial-up connection. I am extremely limited in what I can do, and my mind is empty. No, it's filled with emptiness.

When I start creating a piece of music from scratch, at first, someone in my mind whispers, "There's no way you can create anything." However, as I play the instruments, especially when I understand the story if it's for a tie-in, there's a moment when I can smoothly immerse myself in the music, become one with it. It's only at that moment that desires and wishes like "I want it to be like this" or "I don't want it to be like this" arise, and I begin to have a will.

In a brain that seems to have become a serious drought no matter where I look, I continue to make sounds while searching for the water source I don't even know exists. Crawling on the ground, I persistently verify whether the water I finally find is mine or if it's what I was searching for.

The speed up to this point surely varies greatly from person to person. I admire those who can be satisfied with just one water source, but I compare all the water sources until the very end. While I'm doing that, others seem to have already built a metropolis in their oasis, so inefficient. Because I believe in and doubt my own senses, it's difficult to determine whether to choose A or B when facing each choice repeatedly, even though many things are created through a series of "selections". The slight balance of salt or the choice of materials can either enhance or ruin everything. In order for the work to become the best, I must continuously make the right choices in the realm of the differences that no one else can see.

The same applies to mixing. When I draw out different versions of sounds and compare them as the work approaches completion, if I have my manager listen to them, the answer I receive is often, "I can't tell the difference anymore, but it's amazing!"

When a music video director presents several cuts that I can hardly differentiate, or when a designer suggests modifications that I can barely distinguish, I am taken aback. It's like the classic "I can't tell the difference anymore, but it's the best."

When we share the timeline at the same pace and stride, I can keep up with the small creative advancements, but if I lose focus for even a moment, I'll be left behind. Microscopic choices accumulate at an incredible speed.

Countless options are lined up on the answer sheet, and with each checkmark, the next question changes shape, leading to an endless journey. These continuous differences, unknown to anyone at that moment, blend together as a collective and produce tremendous distinctions. And that becomes the unique color of that individual.

What brings awe to both eardrums are the continuous small choices that only I can see. While exhaling in relief, having barely grasped a stroke of luck, I once again head towards the next destination.