The Possibilities! Week 5

One thing that I've really been having trouble with since I started the Artist's Way is making time for the "Artist Date." This is one of the key elements of the program and you are supposed to do it every week. Basically, it's spending a couple of hours doing something that seems fun or interesting, that might stimulate you or make you think or feel or want to get up and dance. It's supposed to be done on your own and it's supposed to have no real purpose or productive side to it. It's just playtime, exploration.

I have a To-Do list 2 pages long and thinking about trying to get all that done and still have a couple hours left to play, by myself, has not been easy.  In fact 4 weeks went by and I didn't really do it. I'd read magazines for 30 minutes and say that was my Artist Date. Or I'd count my walks, even though I have been walking and running forever and the main reason I was doing it was for the calorie burn, not to gaze at Autumn leaves. I realize this is all me choosing how to spend me time and fooling myself into thinking I can't spare a couple of hours. I procrastinate hours away. I have found time to keep up with Glee, exercise, laundry and dirty dishes, but not the Artist Date. I do have a little tiny side-list of potential artist dates, but when I would look at them, they didn't really seem that compelling. Museums I've already been to and stuff like that.

Week 5 was when I "moved" to Nashville. And in the Artist's Way, Week 5 is about Recovering The Sense of Possibility. When I went to the Nashville Scene website and looked at the Calendar listings, I recovered my sense of possibility in about 2 seconds. I'm in a city! There are all sorts of places to go and events happening! And the site has this great feature: next to each event is a little link that says "Add to iCal." I must have clicked that button 20 times putting concerts and lectures and art openings on my calendar. I won't go to all of them, but they are here. And I could do them. I might just wake up for the "Laughter Yoga Club" or get my black light out for the "Untitled Glow Show." I don't really have a black light, but I could get one. I could do anything and be anyone now!

For my first real Artist Date, I went to the Finals of the Senior Stars talent contest. This is a local Star Search type of talent show for people 65 and older. It was at the Ryman, which in an amazing place to hear any kind of music, and these guys had so much talent and energy and love for performing. I was tearing up at almost every act, I was up on my feet clapping along with the gospel numbers and on the edge of my seat hoping the baton twirler wouldn't miss a toss. It was overwhelming, not just because people were giving their all, but because they were older. Some of them in their eighties and very stooped and still able to produce a lovely alto sax sound or beat a mean rhythm on the spoons.

When the winner was announced, a couple of women sitting near me went bananas. They must have been related to Robert Shipp because they were jumping up and down and screaming and hugging each other like he had won American Idol in from of 20 million people. It was contagious and I was crying and clapping and screaming, too. I was happy for him. He had won $5000 after all. But also he was an old man, taking a chance,  doing something he loved and getting recognized for it. That's worth cheering for.

So I do have a renewed sense of possibility. Not just from the lengthy calendar listings, but also from the senior stars and the thought that it's never too late to chase your creative dreams. Good morning Nashville, here I come!

Y'all check out Robert Shipp's audition...

I survived Week 1, a hero's quest.

Worked my way through most of the tasks in Week 1 of The Artist's Way and was feeling pretty good by Friday. I felt strong from all the affirmations and because I had identified the enemies of my creativity and sleighed them in my mind. Then, I heard a couple of pieces of rejection. (I won't share them with you. I'm not that strong.)

Uhg! It felt like two steps backwards. Like all that confidence I had built up was just to make me strong enough to stand being shot down again. Boo! So the next day I had planned to attend the Lizard Lounge Open Mic Challenge Main Event,  a single elimination songwriting contest. I'm not too big on contests, as I've written before. I had actually played this Monday open mic probably at least 2 years ago, maybe 3, and had never been close enough to Boston make it to the semi-annual big contest with a $500 prize. Plus the whole "I'm not doing any more contests" thing. But I did want a chance to hear and meet 21 other Boston area songwriters at once and so I had put my name on the list.

But after Friday's bummers I wasn't sure that I was ready to be rejected again. I didn't think winning was the only reason to go. I just didn't want to get out in the first round. Even though I know half of the people, really great artists, were going to be eliminated in the first round. But I decided to go anyway. I set out on a quest to survive the attacks on my ego that would surely come. Got stuck in a huge traffic jam, took 5.5. hours to get the 120 miles to Boston and was 1.5 hours late for the load-in. You can bet I was chanting to myself "Just don't get out in the first round. Please, God, the power of the universe, whatever I'm calling you today, don't let me get out in the first round!"

I was chatting backstage with some of the other writers and we were having a good time getting to know each other and discussing strategy for the contest. I had been thinking all day what to play first, but had to make a pretty quick decision because my name was drawn to sing 3rd. This also meant that I wouldn't know what the other person in my bracket was going to do. So I decided to go straight to the "big guns" song. The one that I was sure could beat anything else. If I wasted it and had nothing left for later rounds, I would be sad. But I was focused on not getting out in the first round. Can you guess what my big guns song was? I think it's kind of hilarious, but I was under a lot of stress. My Miner. That sad simple thing is what I played and I made it through. Mission accomplished.

I kept making it through round after round and then I got kind of zen about it. Every time I knew exactly which song to play and I started to look ahead and feel sure I could beat everyone I was matched against. I was in the single-elimination-song-contest zone. By the time I was in the final four, I knew I was going to win. It was as clear as day.

It was getting really late, though. 1:45AM or so by the time the final round started. At this point there was a little bit more than just having a good time and not being humiliated on my mind. There was the "I'm gonna get home at 5AM and I'd really like to be $500 richer when I do" feeling added on. But whatever, it's only sleep, right?

So the other guy and his wife played first. It was kind of a political song I think (1:45AM, remember). So I figured I'd play my kind of political lifestyle song and belt it out and totally take it home. I did Grow Your Own. Maybe kinda croaky, but I gave it my all and I walked off the stage, humbly thanking the hard-core audience members and eliminated songwriters who had been drinking now for 6 hours. I gave my competitors a hug, just like the Miss America contestants do, and waited for the judges to announce that I was the winner. I was so totally sure that I won. So calm. So ready to use part of that $500 to spring for a hotel so I didn't have to drive home.

And then they ruled. 2 votes for him and 1 for me. And it was over and it was 2:05AM and I had nothing. But the best part is, I didn't care. I really didn't. I liked what I did better. And not in like a nasty "He didn't deserve to win, I'm so much better than him. Those judges don't know anything" kind of a way. Not like that at all. He was good. He was amazing in some ways. I just really felt that I did my best and for that night my best was good enough for me. And I don't wish I could play or write like him, even if he has contest-winning songs. I got applause and lots of positive feedback and I had a great time being on stage. And that is what I want when I play music, not prizes and titles. And I guess I somehow learned that in Week 1. And I think I have a jump on Week 2: Recovering Your Sense of Identity.

If you want to check out the guy who went all the way to the winner's circle, he's Tony Memmel. Super nice and deserving all the good that comes to him.

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!

Firsts and Lasts

We like to get up at the same time in the morning. We both need good, strong coffee. Neither of us like fast food, and we both like singing harmony to each other’s songs. If we’re not soul mates, we are at least meant to be touring partners. I had such a great time with Beth Wood, playing shows, commiserating over the bad ones with wine, cheese and late night TV, or celebrating the good ones with a high-fives, local brews and pizza. The altitude and dryness wore me out, but Colorado and New Mexico were just gorgeous. Snow and mountains and adobe houses. It’s like another world only a (long) day’s drive away. Can’t wait to do it again!


I had pretty much sworn off ever entering another songwriting contest, but an unusual series of events led me to be a finalist in the Songwriter’s Serenade at the Fiddler’s Frolics Festival. I was such a nervous wreck about this thing, I know I won’t enter another. I thought I had convinced myself that these things don’t really matter; it’s just the a couple of people’s opinion of what’s good and whether you win or not, it doesn’t really mean anything. But I did win and I have to admit that the $500 prize was really nice. And I have a feeling that convincing myself that winning doesn’t mean anything is more pleasant than convincing myself that losing doesn’t mean I’m a wretched failure who should never sing again. It really cracks me up when people suggest I should go on American Idol. Not only could I never belt like that, being criticized in front of millions of people every week sounds like torture. No thank you.


Two days after my last songwriting contest, I hosted my last open mic at the Cactus Café. Lately my schedule has kept me busy and out of town so much, I wanted to make room for a new host who can dedicate more time to making folks feel at home when they come to play that amazing-sounding room. The whole night was fun and emotional, especially after too many gin and tonics. The best part was when our sound engineer, Jack, sang on stage for the first time and dedicated “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Allright,” and everybody sang along. Awwww. I’m gonna miss that Monday night hang out…