2 kids

Painful memories.

Alex.

I look at Ace who looks at me. Exchanging a look I myself don't know what is supposed to express. But clearly, we're both trying to wrap our minds around the instructions we've just been given.

"You're both excellent musicians," the man speaks up. His voice is somehow quieter than usual, yet strangely loud. "I see the way you both express your emotions and I like it. It's gentle, yet violent. It's like a mystery box – you never know what comes out of it."

Gentle yet violent? A mystery box?

I look at Ace, question marks in my eyes. He shakes his head, wondering just like me.

"But in this song I want you to dig deeper," he continues, not once looking at us. His small eyes, such a dark and deep onyx black, stare at the wall over for him. "I want you to unlock a painful memory of yours. The pain you felt then has to be translated into your singing and playing."

Once again, I look at Ace. At this rate I'll just keep on looking at him the whole time.

It's beyond obvious now that dividing us into two groups wasn't such a great idea as it seemed at first. We were given no chance to object, only instructed to work in these tiny groups for a week. This way you'll all focus better, that's what they said. In my eyes this isn't exactly the definition of better focus. Rather utter chaos.

"I know it can be hard and painful, and something you'd rather avoid." He looks at us, probably the first time since we've entered. And that was some good twenty minutes ago. "But as artists, musicians, unlocking these doors, memories of pain and sadness, is sometimes the key we need to create the best art. We're all hiding chapters of our stories we don't read aloud. We all have scars, and we all mourn in silence. I'm not asking you to share those stories, the pain and sadness with the world. That would be a foolish thing to ask from you, impossible to fulfil. But I'm asking you to dig into the memories and draw from those emotions. Draw from what you felt back then, from what it makes you feel now and transform it into something magnificent."

He looks each of us deep in the eyes.

Working with him has been a one of a kind experience. A rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts. He's a strange man, beyond my capability to explain, but in a good way. Getting to understand him takes a lot of patience. Patience neither Ace nor I possess. Trying to find a way to him makes you find a way to yourself. There's something about him that sometimes makes me wonder if he's real. Something in the way he talks, the way he walks and looks at us. Just something about his overall existence has me questioning him. He has this aura around him that just doesn't seem real. It doesn't feel real. It hardly can be, but it seems to be.

As much of a mystery as he is, he's a professional of the highest league. The skills, the talents, and the passion he possesses. The ease with which he creates breathtaking art pieces blows my mind. His art keeps you focused from the first second, and makes you reconsider everything. Compared to him I have no talent with words, no talent for anything at all. He can transform a normal sentence into something more. Using the most basic words, really not playing around them, but he gives them some magical spell. Wraps them up in something. His art raises thousands of questions in you, thousands of questions you'll never get answered.

"This song requires you to make your listeners feel the pain you felt. This song will not only make them feel your pain, but it'll also make them feel their pain."

"Excuse me," Ace speaks up. "But we're supposed to make our fans, our listeners, feel pain?"

The man gives him a look I really don't know what could possibly mean. That he shouldn't interrupt him? That he's upset he spoke up? I have no idea how to read this man.