Textured silhouettes
of trees and light.
The sun descends
full on the placid landscape.
Nuance and subtlety
static splendor
fragments of reflective light.

I originally saw this on Taylor Deupree‘s Facebook page and the image just kind of stuck with me for a couple days to the point of wanting to find a reason to post it on my own site and add some poetry to it.

After I heard about how Hunter S. Thompson worked, I must admit that I was little bit amazed. According to a documentary that came out shortly after his death, he did most of his writing sitting at his typewriter in the kitchen while he and his friends partied and talked. I can only imagine that the same approach would shut me down… Matter of fact, I know this, I work best in quiet solitude. Most artists I know work like this, too, but there are exceptions, the likes of which I hope to learn more about. For today, though, I’m going to talk about how the artist’s life can be a lonely one, but that’s not as woe-some as it sounds.

Being a working artist is a lonely business, mostly because you have a unique view of the world and what’s possible. This unique view, which I believe starts fairly early on, in some ways comes to define the artist, and it’s usually quite a bi-polar experience without a lot of middle-ground. Either you come to terms with your worldview, keep to yourself and accept that you’re different, letting those folks that are prone to the fringes, nearest. Or you fight this worldview, struggle to assimilate and eventually come to terms (or not) that you have this different worldview and allow yourself to live with it. This would kind of be where I fit.

So, for the artist, self-discovery is name of the game. It’s the deal. And through self-discovery you learn about yourself and what works, because we’re always trying to enhance what works. Often times, what works is getting off the trail that’s already been tread, and going your own way. Humans, mostly, are pack animals, but the artist is different. It’s not a choice they make, but they’re just on a different trajectory, I think this wholly attributed to the fact that they just see the world differently, call it vision, or whatever you want, but it’s different and the artist must go and do their own thing. In many ways, it’s kind of like what Joseph Campbell writes about the Hero’s Journey. Maybe the artist comes back around with the new thing they’ve discovered, but even while they work, they’re working, they’re in the solitude of the work — the flow. The spirt and the inspiration flows through them.

I’m putting all this down here, because artists don’t have a career path like doctors, lawyers, land surveyors, or computer programmers. Our occupational training starts very early on. There aren’t special clubs for being an artist, and mostly these would probably just be filled with wanna-bes and posers, anyway. In fact, being an artist isn’t much of a choice, being creative is just something that you’re prone to doing, while others might be prone to playing sports or collecting stamps, the artist creates.

So the artist, in their solitude works. And with a proper balance, always a challenge for the artist who, generally, thrives in extremes, the artist is able to make the successful go of things and make a life for themselves, even possibly a life where making art is part of their life and livelihood. I say take comfort in the solitude, don’t fight it, to say make friends with it sounds uber-cheesy, but shit, make friends with it. Keep focused and keep going. Keep defining your path. Keep to the self-discovery that comes with being alive and also a working artist and work to magnify the beauty.

On the other hand, there’s balance. Keep to the solitude for your work, but also enjoy people, have relationships, get outside, walk around, travel and do things that enhance your world. Creativity won’t thrive under lock-up, rather it’s the freedom of the spirit and being inspired that allows the inspiration and creativity to flow through you. Leave that room for other things and work to maintain the balance. You won’t lose your edge, as so many of us are apt to thinking. You might have honed your skills at school, but there’s no real school for the artist, just a series of steps that further sharpen you and make you able to create — therefore, it’s not a skill that can be lost. Embrace your humanity and the artist will thrive.

As I start this post, I just want to say that I feel vaguely like Peter Griffin and his bit: ‘You know what grinds my gears…’ which you can see it at this link here because embedding was disabled.…

So here goes: You know what really grinds my gears — music performance venues where the focal point isn’t listening. I’m talking about bars and festivals with crappy sound, not conducive to listening. I’m talking about restaurants and the like that sell themselves as having ‘live music’ and then relegate the performer to being only slightly louder than the clink of the dishwasher and ambient noise of talking diners, thus making the musician/s inaudible and unlistenable for all intents and purposes.

To be fair I’ve played a lot of gigs where the intended purpose was to be nothing more than sonic wallpaper: restaurants, cafes, coffee houses, and art openings… all places where you expect that you’re job is to be the background music, but there’s no misunderstanding here.

Mostly, my irritation is with those places that purport to having “Live Music” or bars that emphasize live music, but then these venues don’t do anything to accommodate the performing musicians and their sound. Being a working musician sucks enough as-is. Between next to no pay, costly gear, and under-appreciating (and caring) venue owners  and promoters, the whole arrangement is often a lose/lose deal with the only satisfaction being that little bit that the musician squeezes out of the opportunity to perform. Maybe I just don’t have the right temperament or attitude for the thing. But I’ll say this, if more time was spent emphasizing not just the novelty of live music, but sitting in a comfortable room having some wine or a good meal while listening to properly balanced music where I could listen while I dine, I’d certainly be seeing a lot more music live.

I don’t see that forthcoming. Instead, I see the continual marginalization of the working musician and the proliferation of the hobbyist who has a job elsewhere, doesn’t care about pay, free drinks or put a hell of a lot of emphasis on their craft as a musician; a zero sum game…

While I’m going through all this, I’ll definitely say that I’ve found two great venues here in Michigan that treat music and musicians right: The Raven Cafe in Port Huron, MI and The Plymouth Coffee Bean in Plymouth, MI. These places truly appreciate and respect music and musician…

You hear a lot about these two things in my line of work. This makes sense considering it’s an interdisciplinary work. Whether I’m looking at something from the communications and marketing side of things and trying to foster creativity or just get some creative thought around problem solving, I end up needing the skills of creativity to get to the core of these things. On the other side, when I’m undertaking things from an IT and Web perspective, we’re always looking to innovate, problem solve and find solutions to things that we haven’t been able to figure out before.

These, seemingly, right and left brain activities, depending on the area you’re working in, seem disparate, disconnected, and I’ve seen folks approach them in that way, but the reality is that whatever it is that gets one to innovate or create comes from the same place.

If you’re going to try and innovate or be creative, you need to put aside pre-conceived notions, “blue sky” as we sometimes call it in IT, just brainstorm and let the creativity flow. You can’t try to organize the thoughts, harness it, or whatever, not initially, instead you have to just let it flow, document what’s coming out of the sessions and then go back, later and start to begin the process of dissecting, reviewing and critiquing the ideas.

I’m thinking of this now, because innovation and creativity in most organizations is kind of like pushing a cart in Ikea, or even worse, pushing a cart against traffic in Ikea. You’ll get somewhere, but it will be an unpleasant experience and one that you won’t embark on again. At the end, will you have achieved the creativity or innovation that you had hoped to? Maybe, but probably not… Managing creativity and innovation is like cooking a small fish, too much poking ruins it…

When you’re creating, I mean, when you’re really in that creative mode it seems like the creativity will never end. Maybe you decide to take your songs to the street or your art work or whatever, and before too long, you’re relying on your art, you’re needing it to live, maybe you’ve given up your job, or whatever, and you’re making a go of it with your art.

That feeling of bliss and creativity is kicking in full gear, but then one day comes, and the elation is gone. Instead of butterflies of excitement about your next creative idea, your gut just feels heavy and your stuck like chuck, trying to think about what to do now that everything in your existence relies on your creative output. This is a crap place to be.

Seasoned musicians and artists know this is part of the deal. This is a part of the ride that doesn’t feel good, and it makes us consider our worst fear: that when it’s gone, it’s gone and it won’t come back, that thing that makes us creative, whatever it is, but somehow it always seems to come back. That’s not to say that it’s not scary as hell when you wake up feeling like beat down, tired and uninspired especially when you’ve got a show to do or work to do.

I would submit that this is, generally, when pharmaceutical, illegal or otherwise, come into play and have for many artists through the ages, but I say, like with anything give it a break and wait for it or just go through the motions and see what happens… Creativity on demand or brilliance in a hurry is a life that many of us have made for ourselves, and there’s no supplement to feeling inspired, but sometimes we just have to suck it up, and work. Go through the motions, put process in place of inspiration.

Eventually, the inspiration comes back, and you’ll be back at it again… the best thing that you can do is not judge the feeling or lack of feeling, but go through the motions. If you can’t feel inspired, at least you can keep things moving, even if it’s not your most inspired work. Usually the malaise will lift in a couple days, sometimes it can go for months, but we’re adaptable, that’s part of working and being creative.

What is an artist? Semantically, I bounce around a lot using musician and artist interchangeably, sometimes going specific and referring to one as a painter, sculptor, writer, etc… I try to avoid the term “creative” like when I’m referring to a person as a creative… that’s my least favorite term used to describe someone who creates things. Ultimately, though, what I’m going after or trying to talk about is the artist, defined thusly, by Wiktionary:

A person who creates art; A person who creates art as an occupation; A person who is skilled at some activity; Artistic

So that’s it, it’s settled… the artist defined for future writings on this here site.

Artist’s take vision for granted. If they couldn’t see their vision in their mind’s eye, or hear their vision in their vision in their mind’s ear, then they would have a heck of a hard time creating anything. The artist creates things from nothing, whether carving a beautiful shape out of a block of wood, or organizing vibrations and frequencies into groups of melodies and harmonies, or manipulating shades of light on a canvas or a computer screen. The artist doesn’t go very far without vision.

The curious thing here is that companies all over the world are struggling to get these kinds of visionaries. Steve Jobs was heralded as a great visionary and he himself really just considered himself an artist. Considering oneself an artist is freeing, because it means you can create, just creating towards the end of creation. Business thrives when the creativity is harnessed and turned into interesting products and innovative ideas, but they all come from the same place, the artist’s vision.

Is the artist born with this vision? Some would say so. I don’t really know, myself. I have vision, but I don’t know that I feel like I was born with some kind of special aptitude. I can tell you that I definitely know how to create the right environment for being creative. I know my process and what works for me, and I know how to work with others to get a creative output, but vision is a wholly mental and emotional process that happens in the mind of the individual. We can talk about it, we can experience other people’s visions, even bring our vision to others, but does everyone have vision or the capacity to have a vision? I guess as I type these lines, I think that each human must have the ability to be visionary, it’s just a matter of that aptitude or process being tapped.

Point is: Artist’s take their vision for granted, but if it wasn’t for the artist and their vision it would be a very dull world with very little exciting or beautiful going on… or maybe we’d learn to live a life more in tune with nature and it’s inherent beauty.

This morning, as I meditated on Dr. King’s work, I was reminded of what some consider Dr. King’s last goal: The eradication of poverty. Poverty is the great equalizer, it affects all of us in some way, shape or form. As Dr. King said, “The curse of poverty has no justification in our age. … The time has come for us to civilize ourselves by the total, direct, and immediate abolition of poverty.” This was known as the Poor People’s Campaign. He also talked about poverty in one of his last speech’s, which I’ve linked to here.

Below, I’ve also embedded a YouTube video that I watch sometimes when the world doesn’t seem to make sense, and the clarity that I thought I had about the trajectory of life is more opaque than usual. The words of Dr. King always lift me up.

All of this is to say, and this is also a reminder for myself, as much of my written work is, that we not only have to be grateful and thankful for everything we have, but we also can’t forget our responsibility to help those who are in worse shape or in more dire straits than ourselves. Dr. King understood this and taught this, leading by example. In some weird way that I feel, but don’t understand, we as humans are all connected, so whether through the creation and sharing of beauty, volunteerism or cash donations, helping others is helping ourselves.

Alright, so 52 Songs is looking like a bust, at least if I intended to do 52 Songs in 52 weeks, straight… I’m going to still be posting songs… so the tag on this series of 52 Songs in 52 Weeks or bust… well, the bust is my public acknowledgement that I couldn’t keep it going… What’s crazy is that I’ve definitely been writing songs, I just can’t seem to get them written, recorded and posted… matter of fact, I wrote a great song the other day, one of the better ones I’ve written this last month about cadaver dogs from World War I. Actually, it’s a lot less depressing than it sounds. I have to blame some of this on the fact that I’ve been just immersed in Dave Liebman and Eberhad Weber’s back-catalog the last few weeks, so if the project got derailed at least it was for a good reason.

A few gigs with Teag and PK coming up over the course of the next few days and then we’ll break with gigs for the January. As well, Teag and PK will be going into the studio to record our first tune for our first release… more to come on that. Very exciting, though.

For the sake of a quick reader query: Have you missed the 52 Songs project?
I’d love to know what people think about this, as there’s been a bit of radio silence of late.

Listening to the Dave Liebman Group recording Further Conversations gifted to me by main man and creative collaborator, Michael Teager has gotten me thinking about improvised music and why it’s always, almost innately, appealed to me.

My earliest memories of improvising music in a group setting go back to when I was sixteen with my first band. There was no self-awareness of musical improvisation… that would come much later, but I knew I loved the freedom of just giving it a go and see what came out through the process. I knew nothing about music, improvised or otherwise at that age. I didn’t have any kind of musical background. Mostly, I was in a bit of a punk rock and metal phase as a guitarist and bassist, and had no awareness of the jazz, or John Coltrane, or Miles Davis, or of bands like Phish or the Grateful Dead who were known for their lengthy improvisations. I just knew that it felt freeing and very present to sit down and do something, musically, that I almost certainly do the same way twice.

This latter part has always been a point of major frustration to my friends and collaborators who’ve wanted to control the beast. Musical group improvisation can go either way… It can leave you elated and on cloud nine, but it can also leave you feeling lost, disoriented and like you just wasted a period of your life. Though, the latter has been easier to get a handle on manage from a craft vs. art perspective over the years, but I digress…

I think that the really killer thing about musical improvisation in a group or solo is that you never know what’s going to happen. You step up to your instrument and/or setup and you bring your past experiences, your history, years of practice, your perspective, your sensibilities as an artist, your skills as a crafts-person and a technician – time stops – and there’s just you, your art and the moment… I love that about improvisation.

This post is already getting a little long, but something that really strikes me about improvised music, is that like anything we improvise at in our life, we get varying results, until we get used to the being in that context, arrangement, situation, or whatever, and our second nature takes over — some would call that the Zen mind. I found the Zen mind when I was sixteen and I’ve spent nealry every day of my life since then trying to find that place as often as possible..