"All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it's just not that good [...] But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. [...] Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this..."
Ira Glass
I've been playing guitar for years. There's something satisfying about working through chord progressions, understanding why certain combinations create tension and release. But I've lived in Ira Glass's gap more often than I'd like to admit.
The ideas in my head would outpace my technical ability to express them. I could hear a drum sound that felt "saturated" and "dark" and "encompasses a room" but had no idea how to create that. Maybe I knew what I wanted, but I definitely didn't know how to make it. This is where a hobby can turn dreadful—when your intuition is pulling you toward something but you have no path to follow it. The guitar stops being meditative and becomes a reminder of limitation.