Action before Inspiration

I can't spend too much time writing this blog. Maybe it's my recent trip to Nashville, or Spring, or listening to Deepak Chopra, but my brain is full, and lately I've been turning all my thoughts into songs. For the past two weeks I've been acting like the disciplined songwriter that I want to be. One that goes to work every morning, creating music and pushing through frustration and laziness. I'm not waiting for inspiration or retreats or that illusive day when everything on my to-do list is checked off. I'm just doing it. I'm not sure yet if any of the songs are keepers, but damn it feels good to be making them.

Hate Not

Derek Sivers is a very cool guy with lots of good ideas about all sorts of things. I met him as the creator of the awesome online music store CDBaby. In his blog last week, he asked the question "What do you hate not doing?" as a way to figure out what you really love. You know I love self-help and quizes, so here are a few things I hate not doing. I'm not sure I like the idea of writing a whole blog about hate, but here goes.

I hate not performing.
Not only because I feel terribly off when I do come back to it, but because I miss connecting with people through music. I miss the challenge of choosing the right songs for the situation and hitting the right emotional tone with each performance. I miss working out my lungs and vocal chords and calluses. And I miss the attention. Can't deny that. :)

I hate not writing.
I hate that I let days, weeks, even months go by without cracking open my journal. That's the place where I let it fly without a filter and it really calms me down and gets me focused. I also hate not writing songs. Songwriting is when I take all my crazy ideas and experiences and shape them into a neat little package and summarize all my feelings about something. Sometimes it's closure, sometimes it's a manifesto. Either way, I feel more settled when a song is finished, and excited to get out there and play it for people. I hate not having a new song to share.

I hate not having balance in my social vs. alone time.
Spending says on end with people, even people I love, even when I'm having a great time, leaves me feeling so scattered. I'm very influenced by others' desires and opinions, so I tend to lose center and follow the crowd when I don't get time alone. On the other hand, I hate being alone too much. I get into boring patterns and I do stupid things like watch hours of TV or play video games when I've got too much time alone. I like having other people around me to bring up new ideas, hold me accountable and be a witness, so I won't eat the whole carton of ice cream. Lately I've been having long spates of alone time, followed by intense visits. Whew! I need balance. I'm such a Libra.

I hate staying in the same place for too long.
Even if it's just walking down a different side street. I need new sights and smells and sounds coming at me. I think I travel enough for this not to be much of a problem. :)

I hate not exercising and eating right.
Because when I do, I feel better. When I don't I feel sluggish and guilty. Hate isn't too strong a word for that feeling.

I hate not asking questions.
I'm a curious person and I wonder about a lot of different things. Sometimes I don't like this about myself, because before I have time to really delve into something, I invariably get curious about something new. But I love the beginnings of projects. I love going to a new town and learning it's history, it's local hangouts. Everything is interesting for a little while. And I hate when I'm doing the same old same old over and over again and not exploring some new business idea or region of the country.

Allright, now what did this little exercise teach me? The best lesson is that all the things I hate not doing are things I mostly get to do all the time! That's good. And when I'm not doing them it's usually because I'm being scared or lazy. So the next time I don't want to go for a run or spend an hour on booking or introduce myself to a new friend, I'm going to think "You'll hate it if you don't do this!" Maybe that will get me going.

Now I want to know what you hate not doing. Maybe this is the next "50 things"....

Lucky Friday the 13th

My trip to Nashville wound down last Thursay with a great songwriting session with Eamon McLoughlin and then listening to inspiring sets by Sarah Siskind and Will Kimbrough at 3rd and Lindsley. Whew! That was a typical day, very busy and productive and creative and fun. I was just absorbing music all night and then spitting it out all day. Awesome.


I headed out of town toward Georgia without really looking at the map, but I found the venue and got there right on time after a gorgeous windy mountain drive to the Crimson Moon in Dahlonega. Maybe it was the beer I drank on an empty stomach, or the sleepy vacation vibe of that old gold-mine town, but I was in a great mood. The show was an in-the-round with Reed Waddell, who reminded me of Jason Mraz, and David Berkeley who is a little Nick Drake-esque. They were both excellent songwriters and performers and though our styles were very different, the audience really responded enthusiastically to every song and I just loved being on stage with them. We all chatted at the bar and talked about life and it was just really nice to carry over that friendly, we’re-all-in-this-together feeling from my time in Nashville. Here is a pic of all of our matching tuners daisy chained together on one power cord. Awwww, how sweet!

I have been laying low in Atlanta for the past two days. I really needed some alone, quiet, sober time to recharge from Nashville and get ready to dive into SXSW. Here we go again! My schedule is here.

Throw away post

When I write several long, thoughtful blog posts in a row, I start putting all this pressure on myself to make every post long and thoughtful and profound and totally original. Then I never write. I've learned that as I songwriter, I sometimes have to push through a couple of bad songs, just to get the juices flowing, before I can write a good one. So this is my meaningless, short, boring post. There might be another on the way. Sorry folks, just gotta get them out of my system.

Am I A Late Bloomer?

I know it's been a while since I've blogged. I just didn't have any great ideas to write about, and I don't want to subject you to reading something boring like "I had a great show, I drove a hundred miles, I got up early and went running." (Oops, I just did. But with irony!) So then I thought I could come up with something interesting to say about my constant procrastination. But I think I just might have covered that topic before. I know I think about it almost every day.

Then yesterday I read Malcolm Gladwell's recent article in the New Yorker. Hear him talk about it here. It's all about "Late Bloomers," or artists who come into their genius later in life, and it raises some pretty interesting issues for the way we structure our creative lives, and how artists interact with the marketplace. Drawing heavily from the book "Old Masters and Young Geniuses" by David Galenson (which is now on my reading list), he describes an alternative to the artistic archetype of the Prodigy or inherently talented youngster which many of us have come to believe is the true genius. The Late Bloomer is more of an experimental artist, taking years to practice, research, try different techniques, hone her skills and ultimately find her voice. Late Bloomers produce works of art every bit as intriguing and important as Prodigies, but much later in life. Cezanne and Ben Fountain are the examples he chooses to illustrate this point.

Inspiring, right? Maybe we all have potential to be great artists when we retire! Maybe we shouldn't write off arts education for our kids just because they don't seem to be talented by 5th grade.

The problem is that these days, we expect that good art will be supported by the marketplace. Lots of people who dream of being a singer or painter give themselves 5 or 10 years to "make it," then move on to a 8-5 job. And who can blame them? It's hard to be poor for years and years, especially if you have no guarantee that your art will ever be well received. Especially if you are a perfectionist who is rarely satisfied with your creative output. And is it really an option to have a full time job and practice art on the side? Will there be enough time to follow every thread of inspiration, repeat every exercise enough times to make it just right? Gladwell suggests that many Late Bloomers are blessed with Patrons, be they parents or spouses who pay the bills so that the artist can work. But those are very special circumstances indeed, and certainly open to abuse. The common call lately seems to be "Cut those free-loading 20-somethings off!"

I you haven't guessed yet, I feel like a Late Bloomer. My self-critical side wonders if I'm just glomming on to the idea to justify my minimal success, and make myself feel better about getting older. How do I know that I will actually ever "bloom" someday? But I relate to the characterization on more fundamental points, too. I can be quite a perfectionist, feeling very unsatisfied with my songs and editing or re-writing them over and over. But I also really enjoy the creative process, the research part, winding down different alleyways of ideas, gathering resources and inspiration around me. Some days the observing and noticing and learning is more satisfying than having a finished song to sing. Take Galenson's quiz to see which you are.

Having realized this, what do I do? Look for a patron? Re-adjust my expectations? Push myself harder or back off? Am I OK with waiting for my success? Is my family? Is the youth-obsessed music industry? I hope this article sparks more discussion about different types and timelines for creative expression, we sure need some kind of a change.

So maybe I'm not really procrastinating. I'm just researching....

Rooting for Jewel

When Jewel's first album came out, full of passion and her quirky vocals and ways of describing relationships and political issues, I was a 19 and fell right in love with it. I would have really been a huge fan if she hadn't been on a major label, I was snobby like that. I've casually followed her releases since then, and always been a little embarrassed to admit that I liked to sing along to "Hands" or "Standin' Still."

When I heard she was releasing a country album, I rolled my eyes with everyone else, thinking "another artist who has played out her pop career is carpet-bagging it over to Nashville." But after hearing so many Nashville publishers and A&R guys tell me that my music is too clever, too smart, too off-beat for country radio, I started to really root for Jewel. She's already proven that her music has wide appeal. Quirky as it is, it's also real and really catchy. So if Jewel's songs do well on country radio, maybe the industry will have a little more faith in the fans' ability to understand music with subtlety and layers. The Dixie Chicks were trailblazers in that regard until they crossed a line and got blacklisted, but I believe there are lots of listeners who are still missing the depth that the Chicks brought to the airways.

So I'm going to buy Jewel's record and sing along. And I'm going to keep trying to sneak smart lyrics into my country songs, maybe a few more ears will be open to it now.

Creating through stress

I'm usually wiped out by co-writing. It takes so much emotional energy to connect with someone and create through all the stress. You have expectations and hopes, and I'm a pleaser, so I really want them to like me and think I'm smart. After 4 hours of all that brainwork, I mostly want a meal and a nap. But I had two co-writes today I feel great! They were very different, one fast and high energy, one more contemplative and measured. But mostly, I'm just happy to be creating with other people and sharing this whole crazy experience of songwriting, instead of going it alone like I usually do. Eamon McLoughlin and I finished the duet we started over a year ago and I really like how it turned out. Now I just have to find someone to sing it with me!

I also found out today that I'm going to be playing at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival/Grassy Hill: Emerging Artists Showcase! I know I recently vowed that I wasn't going to enter any more contests, but I had already submitted to this one and kind of forgotten. But then a couple of weeks ago, I got a message saying the selection process was taking longer than expected and I was reminded that I had entered and was sent into that whole nasty cycle of checking e-mail and the festival website every hour to see if they had announced the artists. Uhg! I hate that I get so caught up in such things. But this isn't technically a contest, it's a showcase, so I can just be happy that I was selected and have fun at the festival and not worry about the survey they are going to give the audience to see who their favorites are. Yeah, right. I know I'm going to worry about it. Maybe the universe is giving me one more chance to really learn my lesson about being competitive and nervous.

I was listening to a podcast called the Accidental Creative the other day and in it, they were talking about the false boundaries and rules we put around ourselves as artists. There was a cool visualization from "The Now Habit" by Neil Fiore where you imagine walking across a board that is 1 foot wide and 30 feet long. No problem, right? Now, raise that same board 100 feet in the air. I, for one, would not even dare to take the first step. It's the same task, but the stakes are much higher. I thought about that when I played at Chattanooga Market on Sunday. I felt so comfortable, so in control of my voice, and I really had fun performing. And I wondered why I can't feel like that when I'm singing the exact same songs in front of judges. The one thing that's not going to help me, is to get nervous. So maybe it is good that I have one more contest in my future. It's one more chance to ignore the external judgement and high stakes and just live in the moment of my performance. The cool part is, if I succeed, I won't have to hate contests so much!

Airport Productivity

I’m at the Houston airport typing away. I sometimes find that I can get lots of work done when I’m flying. I think it’s because I generally don’t have internet access. In other words, no distractions. I just fill up my outbox and nothing new comes in. Yay!

I do not give a “Yay” to the new paying for checked bags policies. I don’t know how we’re going to afford getting around if this trend continues. But I love to go places, I don’t want to play shows and listen to music in a virtual computer world! Bring on the green revolution. Isn’t someone working on solar airplanes or something?

I was up soooo late last night stuffing envelopes with my new CDs. I really like the new handmade covers. I used some old maps that have been all over the country with me, and I had some custom rubber stamps made with my name and picture. They look great, but every time I’m pulling an all-nighter to finish up and get them out, I curse myself for taking on such a labor intensive task! Now that it’s just about done, it all seems worth it, so I’ll probably do it again next time.... But truly, I’d do anything for those folks who pre-ordered my CD. What a leap of faith!

Thanks to Austin Music Foundation for putting on a great workshop with Berkelee College of Music Songwriting instructor Pat Pattison last Monday. I like the one book I have of his, but I wasn’t sure what I would get out of a couple of hours of him talking about songwriting. But it was amazing and so inspiring! I totally recommend taking a workshop or class with him if you want to learn how to write better songs. I went home and worked for a couple more hours generating ideas and images for a couple different songs. I also had a fun co-writing session with the awesome Elizabeth McQueen, AND some other songwriter friends started a monthly title challenge group, so the universe seems to be conspiring to help me writer more and better. I’ll take it!

My flight is boarding. See you at baggage claim.