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Radical Face - More Clay Than Stone (Still On Our Way)

I read a lot about the mind. Call it a hobby. I wrote this song specifically after reading about memories and how we rewrite them every time we revisit them. They're not as reliable as we often believe, and that's where the title “More Clay Than Stone” came from. The rest of the lyrics spread from there and, to my own surprise, they took an optimistic turn. I started thinking that if they're going to change anyway, why not make them something a little better?

But the parenthetical half of the song title, (Still On Our Way), came about in a funny way. I was working out the vocal melody and the ending of each section sounded super familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. And then it clicked – it's something I've already written. “We're On Our Way” had the same melody in it. Well, since I can't get in trouble for copying myself, I decided to keep it. And since that was a song about moving from a bad spot to something better, it paired well with this song's subject matter. Maybe that's just a melody I drum up when I'm being more positive? Might be something to that. But yeah, I made an accidental sequel.

I have also been really into humming lately. Not sure what that's about.

For the artwork, I was just curious about painting an eyeball. I've never painted one before and it made sense with the song's subject, so I figured I'd give it a go. And like the others in this Hidden Hollow series (that's the name of my monthly newsletter), it was done in Procreate.


I was out for a walk
Somewhere that I can't be found
Like a forest, but one that's only in my mind
Built of memories only you and I have shared

I have come to accept
My past is more clay than stone
And I can shape it into nicer forms
Ones where you and I were better than we were

All I see is that empty land
And the long-gone street full of long-gone plans
But I turn my head up and I watch the changing sky
And I leave the ground then and I finally understand why
I couldn't see it
That the street was not a street
It's just a circle meant to keep you where you are

I'm back in my spot
The one where I can't be found
Wrapped in stories
The ones where we were good
And our dreams were more than ways to pass the time