Creative people are scavengers.
They're always on the lookout for something to take away with them. Sometimes it's tangible, sometimes not, but always it's real.
That view.
The sound.
Those expressions.
The mood.
An idea.
The feeling.
That concept.
Those things.
The Scavenger soaks everything up, taking notes...
Scratching below the surface to find something hidden, in conversations or behind gazes, turning what others cast aside into intricate tapestries, exploring strange worlds of the unspoken.
Sometimes it's the thrill of the chase.
Sometimes it's like diving in the ocean.
It's unknown territory.
Private.
Personal.
It links beyond the dry facade of life's daily grind, into the sweetness of the depths of humanity.
It's unspoilt.
Untamed.
Calling out from beneath layers of time.
It's bitterness and succulence.
Pain and immortality.
Truth.
Denial.
The hunt.
The capture.
And then.....setting it free
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Space...the final frontier
(Yes, i know it's a lame title)
Creative spaces are very important to the creative mind. They provide a sanctuary and are usually places of activity. Sometimes they appear pristine and ordered, but more than likely they appear to be jumbled heaps upon jumbled heaps, with seemingly no order.
So what is a creative space? what's it all about?
The room/studio/corner/insert-your-own word-for-it-here is probably the single most important place on earth for the creative heart. It is as much a birthing room as a work space, and demands the same respect. A pile of "stuff" may in fact be a list of priorities, or reminders, like a 3-dimensional white board. It can represent a thought flow, one which is at the brink of creating a new masterpiece. To you it may have no logic, but to the artist it may be their link to their inspiration.
Whatever you do, NEVER clean up a creative space that's not your own unless you have been given permission to do so!
It's not an easy thing for most creative minds to simply flick from one head-space to the next, though many do out of necessity. If it's at all possible, a studio space is best if that's all it is. A small corner of the living room just doesn't bring out the best in an artist, though it may well be of good intention.
Creative spaces are sacred spaces. Here, things are conceived of and born. Here the mind and the heart can meld and ideas can evolve over time. Here is where chapters are explored, lived, manipulated, and developed. It can often be the only place on earth where an artistic person feels safe, at-peace, and free.
Feeling safe is a really important thing, and is often underestimated.
Sometimes a lot of emotion comes out of a person when they are birthing a new idea. Frustrations can overflow, or sometimes the process itself needs to be an angry one to achieve the desired effect, like the painter wildly throwing paint at a canvass. Musicians sometimes cry helplessly when the muse strikes, and writers often need to become their characters to write from a sense of truth. The creative space is a temple of humanity, where life can explode, crumple, run, or die, in a kaleidoscope of temporary madness. It may not always be visible, but the process of creativity can be as large as a universe outside of the tangible reality.
The creative space is a frontier. It's a place where new things are explored and devoured, nurtured and dismissed. It's a powerful force, and one of the most important tools a creative mind will ever have.
Creative spaces are very important to the creative mind. They provide a sanctuary and are usually places of activity. Sometimes they appear pristine and ordered, but more than likely they appear to be jumbled heaps upon jumbled heaps, with seemingly no order.
So what is a creative space? what's it all about?
The room/studio/corner/insert-your-own word-for-it-here is probably the single most important place on earth for the creative heart. It is as much a birthing room as a work space, and demands the same respect. A pile of "stuff" may in fact be a list of priorities, or reminders, like a 3-dimensional white board. It can represent a thought flow, one which is at the brink of creating a new masterpiece. To you it may have no logic, but to the artist it may be their link to their inspiration.
Whatever you do, NEVER clean up a creative space that's not your own unless you have been given permission to do so!
It's not an easy thing for most creative minds to simply flick from one head-space to the next, though many do out of necessity. If it's at all possible, a studio space is best if that's all it is. A small corner of the living room just doesn't bring out the best in an artist, though it may well be of good intention.
Creative spaces are sacred spaces. Here, things are conceived of and born. Here the mind and the heart can meld and ideas can evolve over time. Here is where chapters are explored, lived, manipulated, and developed. It can often be the only place on earth where an artistic person feels safe, at-peace, and free.
Feeling safe is a really important thing, and is often underestimated.
Sometimes a lot of emotion comes out of a person when they are birthing a new idea. Frustrations can overflow, or sometimes the process itself needs to be an angry one to achieve the desired effect, like the painter wildly throwing paint at a canvass. Musicians sometimes cry helplessly when the muse strikes, and writers often need to become their characters to write from a sense of truth. The creative space is a temple of humanity, where life can explode, crumple, run, or die, in a kaleidoscope of temporary madness. It may not always be visible, but the process of creativity can be as large as a universe outside of the tangible reality.
The creative space is a frontier. It's a place where new things are explored and devoured, nurtured and dismissed. It's a powerful force, and one of the most important tools a creative mind will ever have.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Cloisterers & Loiterers
You've seen them...
They're the ones sitting there in the corner on their own, at the pub, and the cafe', at your regular haunt. Almost always alone...thinking, watching (but not too obviously). If you sit close enough you can almost hear the cogs turning in their heads. Silent observers.
They might be a writer, perhaps an artist, possibly someone who seeks out the experience without participating in one. They are the Loiterers, an unassuming yet often misunderstood breed of creatives, who can easily spend countless hours in these places. Occasionally they'll find themselves so engrossed in a scenario that they'll laugh out loud, but rarely would they accept an offer to join you. The Loiterers are immersing themselves in reality, not participating in it.
Then, they pack up their notepads and memories, and go back to their world, perhaps to include their observations in their art, perhaps to ponder, and possibly to dream.
You don't really know the Cloisterers.
They usually only spend fleeting moments in public. Their world lies in their own sacred space, carefully crafted out of ordered chaos, or fanatical displays. Though they love to be invited, they'll rarely play, but if you're lucky enough to be a part of a small list of trusted people, you will have a friend for life.
Shutting out the world means there is plenty of room for a new one to emerge. A world full of complexity and creative reasoning. The Cloisterer lives in the world they have created for themselves, one that is safe enough for ideas to evolve and delicate works to be created. Their world is one full of dreams and aspirations, where the demons of the creative minds can be kept in check, and where the ebb and flow of the emotional tides can freely be navigated without justification or excuse.
Both the Cloisterer and the Loiterer dwell within each creative mind, sometimes simultaneously. They may at times be hidden by a layer of bravado or an extroverted or friendly personality, but they are there, underneath the surface. And sometimes a creative mind needs to sink into their shadow and explore them, though melancholic in their appearance.
The Cloisterer and the Loiterer are here to stay...
They're the ones sitting there in the corner on their own, at the pub, and the cafe', at your regular haunt. Almost always alone...thinking, watching (but not too obviously). If you sit close enough you can almost hear the cogs turning in their heads. Silent observers.
They might be a writer, perhaps an artist, possibly someone who seeks out the experience without participating in one. They are the Loiterers, an unassuming yet often misunderstood breed of creatives, who can easily spend countless hours in these places. Occasionally they'll find themselves so engrossed in a scenario that they'll laugh out loud, but rarely would they accept an offer to join you. The Loiterers are immersing themselves in reality, not participating in it.
Then, they pack up their notepads and memories, and go back to their world, perhaps to include their observations in their art, perhaps to ponder, and possibly to dream.
You don't really know the Cloisterers.
They usually only spend fleeting moments in public. Their world lies in their own sacred space, carefully crafted out of ordered chaos, or fanatical displays. Though they love to be invited, they'll rarely play, but if you're lucky enough to be a part of a small list of trusted people, you will have a friend for life.
Shutting out the world means there is plenty of room for a new one to emerge. A world full of complexity and creative reasoning. The Cloisterer lives in the world they have created for themselves, one that is safe enough for ideas to evolve and delicate works to be created. Their world is one full of dreams and aspirations, where the demons of the creative minds can be kept in check, and where the ebb and flow of the emotional tides can freely be navigated without justification or excuse.
Both the Cloisterer and the Loiterer dwell within each creative mind, sometimes simultaneously. They may at times be hidden by a layer of bravado or an extroverted or friendly personality, but they are there, underneath the surface. And sometimes a creative mind needs to sink into their shadow and explore them, though melancholic in their appearance.
The Cloisterer and the Loiterer are here to stay...
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
My Work, My Nakendness
Songwriters sometimes describe performing their songs on stage as akin to standing in front of a crowd, stark naked. When you've created something it can be like that...like you're revealing yourself, exposing all your vulnerabilities, all your weaknesses, your secret desires, and your pain.
Sometimes this is because it's out of those things that our art is created. There are times when our pain gives birth to inspiration, or our vulnerability makes way for an expression of inner strength. But there is also the secrets, the stuff that is unconscious. The knowledge that someone might interpret our work and expose something we didn't even know about ourselves. Like the painter who creates random abstract paintings, only to discover that viewers see more than was intended.
The fear of revealing oneself is something the creative mind deals with every time they show their work to a friend, a family member, or an audience. In fact, the fear of one can far outweigh the fear of the many. I remember feeling extremely uncomfortable with revealing my music to my family more than to a venue full of people. And the individuals i chose to show my works to were selected not only with great deliberation, but also via their placement in time. Sometimes there would be only a window of a couple of days where i was willing to share, and if the right person wasn't around to listen...
But it's not just the uncomfortableness of oneself. Creative people are often extremely sensitive to the feelings of others. So imagine sharing something with someone, but not wanting to put them on the spot in any way that would make them awkward to offer any kind of feedback. This is something often overlooked. Artists generally want honesty. Of course they don't want to be hurt, but they don't want to hear Uncle John say "hey, i like that" just because he might feel he's expected to say that. They don't want pandering, though they do want encouragement. It can get complicated.
My mother is my biggest critic. I know that she loves that i write music, but she is careful not to show too much enthusiasm. This i sometimes interpret as indifference, which i used to find very challenging. She is honest with her own taste in music, telling me in no uncertain terms when she can't stand to listen to one of my pieces, or when it's "alright, i guess". It's complicated because she is my mother, and i want her to show a mountain of pride, and lashings of support, but i admire her honesty. She will tell me straight out that the CD artwork is completely the wrong colour for the music and that she finds a sound irritating, but i lean on the knowledge that she is trying to be helpful and truthful, and not mollycoddle me, and as such i only show her pieces that are near completion. Because i know that the complicatedness of our relationship will become too great an influence, and i would find myself changing things to suit her and not myself.
Art is from the heart, whether it's an awareness or a subconscious influence. It's endless possibilities make it a difficult birth process at times. Revealing oneself confidently, warts and all, doesn't come with the job. It's because of our vulnerability that we can create, so to reveal ourselves takes practice, patience, and a lot of gritting of teeth. It's a skill that must be learnt, like on-the-job-training. It's the hardest thing, yet is imperative if we are to share our talents. It's bracing for impact, crumpling in an emotional heap, lashing out with bitterness and anger, cowering with angst and uncertainly, putting on armour and challenging any opponent. It's all of this and more.
We are what we are, and we do what we do. We're not really eccentric. Just creative minds, with a need to explore.
Sometimes this is because it's out of those things that our art is created. There are times when our pain gives birth to inspiration, or our vulnerability makes way for an expression of inner strength. But there is also the secrets, the stuff that is unconscious. The knowledge that someone might interpret our work and expose something we didn't even know about ourselves. Like the painter who creates random abstract paintings, only to discover that viewers see more than was intended.
The fear of revealing oneself is something the creative mind deals with every time they show their work to a friend, a family member, or an audience. In fact, the fear of one can far outweigh the fear of the many. I remember feeling extremely uncomfortable with revealing my music to my family more than to a venue full of people. And the individuals i chose to show my works to were selected not only with great deliberation, but also via their placement in time. Sometimes there would be only a window of a couple of days where i was willing to share, and if the right person wasn't around to listen...
But it's not just the uncomfortableness of oneself. Creative people are often extremely sensitive to the feelings of others. So imagine sharing something with someone, but not wanting to put them on the spot in any way that would make them awkward to offer any kind of feedback. This is something often overlooked. Artists generally want honesty. Of course they don't want to be hurt, but they don't want to hear Uncle John say "hey, i like that" just because he might feel he's expected to say that. They don't want pandering, though they do want encouragement. It can get complicated.
My mother is my biggest critic. I know that she loves that i write music, but she is careful not to show too much enthusiasm. This i sometimes interpret as indifference, which i used to find very challenging. She is honest with her own taste in music, telling me in no uncertain terms when she can't stand to listen to one of my pieces, or when it's "alright, i guess". It's complicated because she is my mother, and i want her to show a mountain of pride, and lashings of support, but i admire her honesty. She will tell me straight out that the CD artwork is completely the wrong colour for the music and that she finds a sound irritating, but i lean on the knowledge that she is trying to be helpful and truthful, and not mollycoddle me, and as such i only show her pieces that are near completion. Because i know that the complicatedness of our relationship will become too great an influence, and i would find myself changing things to suit her and not myself.
Art is from the heart, whether it's an awareness or a subconscious influence. It's endless possibilities make it a difficult birth process at times. Revealing oneself confidently, warts and all, doesn't come with the job. It's because of our vulnerability that we can create, so to reveal ourselves takes practice, patience, and a lot of gritting of teeth. It's a skill that must be learnt, like on-the-job-training. It's the hardest thing, yet is imperative if we are to share our talents. It's bracing for impact, crumpling in an emotional heap, lashing out with bitterness and anger, cowering with angst and uncertainly, putting on armour and challenging any opponent. It's all of this and more.
We are what we are, and we do what we do. We're not really eccentric. Just creative minds, with a need to explore.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Creator vs Saboteur
Ahhh, self sabotage. Anyone who writes music, makes art, choreographs, writes, or does anything else creative knows how closely just that term hits home. Living within each one of us lurks the Saboteur, like a devil on our shoulder. Even when things seems to be going well, we can feel it hiding in the shadows, like a grim reaper awaiting it's victim. It stalks us...patiently...waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike us down, with lethal blows.
The Saboteur prays on our weaknesses, our doubts, our holes. It puts us on the defensive, where we feel we have to justify our place in the world, our community, our home, and even ourselves. And being a saboteur of the self, it remains hidden from view from all those around us. Only we are aware of it's presence, only we can hear it's taunts. It lives with us as we work, and we can hear it panning schemes of our undoing.
But people around us can see it's handiwork. i can see that you are your own undoing. I can see that the only thing stopping you is yourself. I can see that you're making excuses, finding reasons why NOT to do, and making assumptions based on fear. But YOU....you live WITHIN the world of the Saboteur. To you it's not that simple, because it haunts you every day, each time you question anything. For you, it's not as simple as being afraid people wont like your art...it runs much deeper than that. For you, it's layers and layers of torment, complication, and desperation, daily guilt, remorse, isolation, and regret. For you it's not as easy to just get on with it, get over it, and turn a new page. For you, it's the thorn in your side that never ceases.
But the Saboteur keeps you in check. It keeps the fight alive. Makes you work harder. To see the light you have to place it in the dark. It's voice, though haunting, can drive you to prove it wrong. You work is better because of it's unending presence. You scoff at it, laugh it down, drive over it with a lawnmower...mock it until it becomes little more than a shade of grey. It feeds you to do better, fly higher, create greater.
Self Sabotage will always be a part of artistic life. The trick is to use it's presence to empower yourself and your work. It is merely the yang to your yin, the night to your day. So long as you strive for balance, your never need to fear it's influence.
The Saboteur prays on our weaknesses, our doubts, our holes. It puts us on the defensive, where we feel we have to justify our place in the world, our community, our home, and even ourselves. And being a saboteur of the self, it remains hidden from view from all those around us. Only we are aware of it's presence, only we can hear it's taunts. It lives with us as we work, and we can hear it panning schemes of our undoing.
But people around us can see it's handiwork. i can see that you are your own undoing. I can see that the only thing stopping you is yourself. I can see that you're making excuses, finding reasons why NOT to do, and making assumptions based on fear. But YOU....you live WITHIN the world of the Saboteur. To you it's not that simple, because it haunts you every day, each time you question anything. For you, it's not as simple as being afraid people wont like your art...it runs much deeper than that. For you, it's layers and layers of torment, complication, and desperation, daily guilt, remorse, isolation, and regret. For you it's not as easy to just get on with it, get over it, and turn a new page. For you, it's the thorn in your side that never ceases.
But the Saboteur keeps you in check. It keeps the fight alive. Makes you work harder. To see the light you have to place it in the dark. It's voice, though haunting, can drive you to prove it wrong. You work is better because of it's unending presence. You scoff at it, laugh it down, drive over it with a lawnmower...mock it until it becomes little more than a shade of grey. It feeds you to do better, fly higher, create greater.
Self Sabotage will always be a part of artistic life. The trick is to use it's presence to empower yourself and your work. It is merely the yang to your yin, the night to your day. So long as you strive for balance, your never need to fear it's influence.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The Creative Addiction
Having a creative mind is like having an addiction. Don’t misunderstand me. It doesn’t necessarily result in copious amounts of artistic output, as many of you know. In fact it often leads to the flip side of the coin, constantly stalling or putting off the next step or stage, escapism, or distraction. Why? Because having a creative mind means we have this amazing ability to create all sorts of reasoning and justification to apply to our situation which has just as much influence to stop us from doing, as it does to inspire us.
The creative addiction is complicated, because there are so many layers to it, like an onion. On the one hand we have the uncanny knack of being able to be suddenly inspired by the smallest trigger, yet we can create a myriad of excuses to not see something through. This juxtaposition can become frustrating and very disheartening not only to the person, but also to those around them. I know in my own experience i have met many talented musicians and artists who not only have rarely made their work public, but who seem to make it their life’s mission to come up with a multitude of excuses as to why that is the case, from their work not being finished, not “right”, them not being ready, it’s not the “right time”...the list goes on. The “closet artist” spends time doing amazing work, but would rather create excuses than reveal themself. The world is a lesser place for it.
Another aspect to the addiction is it’s affect on daily life. It feels wrong to be obsessed in the real world, and the swings from obsessive artistry to excuses and downers can make it somewhat difficult for relationships. It’s rare for me to meet a truly happy couple where only one is creative, because unless you share the same addiction, you simply struggle to understand. You seem to be living with a person who goes from one madness to the next, and find it difficult to cope with the extremes of highs and lows which come with no warning or logic. You have no way to prepare yourself for what will happen next, and at times it must feel like you want to burst. The partner of an artist can feel helpless in being able to support them emotionally, physically and spiritually. This can often result in a relationship breakdown, or the artist withdrawing into themselves and attempting to curb their creativity in a bid to save their relationship. For those creative/non-creative couples who HAVE found a way to make their relationship flourish deserve a round of applause with a standing ovation at the very least.
To summarise this ( and i will go into a little more detail at another time), i’d like to add that it’s important for an artist to explore their own addiction. Firstly i must stress that it is not BAD, WRONG, or TERRIBLE. You’re addicted to breathing, aren’t you? Well, put it in the same basket as that. You need to create to keep your brain and heart alive, no matter what you hear from those on the other side. But being able to identify and embrace your own ebb and flow, not only of your work, but also of your non-work, can help you and those around you come to an understanding of the complexities of creative addiction. Each one is unique, and each with their own needs.
Oh, and remember to smile...
Thursday, July 2, 2009
One Step Further...
Sooner or later you come to a crossroads. You've created all of this fantastic music/art/groovy-stuff, and you get to a point where you have to take a plunge to move forward. It's a first. Your first CD, exhibition, book, sale...whatever it is, it's filled with as much terror as it is excitement.
We live in an era where we can't make up the excuses we used to. Anything is possible. We generally have access to the tools to make this project happen, but it's fraught with the pain of "what if". What if it doesn't sell, what if i get bad reviews, what if I'm rejected? But here's the thing...nothing in this world is guaranteed. There is no water-tight solution for success.
And what is success? I measure success in the ability to create something out of nothing, regardless of whether hoards of people come flocking. How many times have you heard of artists struggling all their lives, only to be recognised after their deaths because of their extraordinary contribution to the world culture? How many films have been dismally received only to become cult icons decades later? And how many cds have had no airplay, yet warm the hearts of a few? I told myself at the beginning of my career that if i could touch the heart of one human being, and move them to make a change for the better, my work was done. Then i read my first fan letter, a stranger whom i didn't know changed his life because he was inspired. I was moved so deeply that my heart cried, and i made an oath to myself that my work had only just begun.
I remember the angst of creating my first independent release. The decision seemed agonising, but i knew it had to be done. I owed it to my children, to lead by example, and i had always believed that being a closet artist was a selfish occupation. Being creative doesn't come easy to many, so the rest of us have an obligation to share what we do with humanity. I lent on that idea every step of the way. I had to learn how to keep myself out of the way.
My first boxes of CDs sat in a cupboard for many moons. I had no idea what to do next, so for a long while i did almost nothing. Then i decided there was nothing to lose, and thought that even giving them away had to be better than taking up space in my office. I gave myself a hard time. I struggled with the "what if"s, but i was stubborn enough to not give up.
Things are a bit different now. Not because all i touch turns to gold, but because i have a method...a process. I'm experienced now, so the fear is assuaged. I still wonder about failure, but each time i release something new, i remind myself that the only failure is to do nothing. If i end up getting stuck with a few boxes full of CDs, well hey!! So what! I'll always have a gift to give to a stranger. And what better gift to give is there that a part of yourself.
We live in an era where we can't make up the excuses we used to. Anything is possible. We generally have access to the tools to make this project happen, but it's fraught with the pain of "what if". What if it doesn't sell, what if i get bad reviews, what if I'm rejected? But here's the thing...nothing in this world is guaranteed. There is no water-tight solution for success.
And what is success? I measure success in the ability to create something out of nothing, regardless of whether hoards of people come flocking. How many times have you heard of artists struggling all their lives, only to be recognised after their deaths because of their extraordinary contribution to the world culture? How many films have been dismally received only to become cult icons decades later? And how many cds have had no airplay, yet warm the hearts of a few? I told myself at the beginning of my career that if i could touch the heart of one human being, and move them to make a change for the better, my work was done. Then i read my first fan letter, a stranger whom i didn't know changed his life because he was inspired. I was moved so deeply that my heart cried, and i made an oath to myself that my work had only just begun.
I remember the angst of creating my first independent release. The decision seemed agonising, but i knew it had to be done. I owed it to my children, to lead by example, and i had always believed that being a closet artist was a selfish occupation. Being creative doesn't come easy to many, so the rest of us have an obligation to share what we do with humanity. I lent on that idea every step of the way. I had to learn how to keep myself out of the way.
My first boxes of CDs sat in a cupboard for many moons. I had no idea what to do next, so for a long while i did almost nothing. Then i decided there was nothing to lose, and thought that even giving them away had to be better than taking up space in my office. I gave myself a hard time. I struggled with the "what if"s, but i was stubborn enough to not give up.
Things are a bit different now. Not because all i touch turns to gold, but because i have a method...a process. I'm experienced now, so the fear is assuaged. I still wonder about failure, but each time i release something new, i remind myself that the only failure is to do nothing. If i end up getting stuck with a few boxes full of CDs, well hey!! So what! I'll always have a gift to give to a stranger. And what better gift to give is there that a part of yourself.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Artist or Fraud?
During the early days of my career (which i identify as being during my early 20's), i was just starting to find the courage to label myself a composer. This was a huge step for me psychologically because although i was working as a professional musician, writing music for film and dance projects and performing regularly, i lived in this fear than sooner-or-later i was going to be caught-out as a fraud!
It's a big word, FRAUD. It has all kinds of connotations with it, and the whole concept has a dirty vibe to it. That's what i felt. Like my dirty secret would eventually get out, and I'd be exposed as nothing more than a pretender, a fake, a low-life wanna-be. Pretty intense, hey. Yet people were paying me good money to write and perform music, i was getting great reviews, the projects i was working on received world-wide acclaim, there were awards and interviews....how was this possible if i was faking it?
So intense were my feelings, that i began to ask a few close artist friends whom i had the greatest creative respect for, "do you ever feel like you're a fake?". Unexpectedly they ALL said yes, each one of them reacting to the question with a sense of relief that they could finally talk about it. I discovered that not only was i not alone in my own feelings, but that this mindset was prevalent in creative vocations. There is an unspoken fear that eventually the artist will be sprung, and they would be forced back to the depths where they belong. Most surprising of all was my discovery that the more talented the artist, the deeper those feelings appeared to run.
Begs the question "why", doesn't it. Well, i can only answer this by drawing from what others have shared with me, and through my own experiences. So here's my theory...
"Talented" artists (we'll leave the discussion of what talent is for another time), often start out in a less traditional way. For example, I'm a self-taught musician, only taking lessons in music to sharpen up my skills and perceptions of my art form as a young adult. This leaves the door wide open to feel less validated and uncredited. Also, music to me comes so naturally...practically effortless. It's so enjoyable, it feels like there is no work involved in it, because most people class work as being something that one has to strive over and struggle with. Music also exposes a passion in me, one that is self-perpetuating...the more music I'm making, the more music i feel inspired to make. Plus, making music kinda gives me a high. All in all, it's such an enjoyable and easy process, fun and passion-invoking, that i feel like i must be cheating somehow.
I remember feeling this way when i used to improvise song arrangements on the piano as a kid to pop songs. I'd listen to a song a few times, and that was all I'd need. My friends would often need a few weeks working on it, but i seemed to already know it. I'd also just start singing harmonies to songs i barely knew...and knew no one else who could do that. i must have been cheating. I felt like i was, because i seemed to already know the answers. It makes perfect logical sense, except that of course there was no cheating involved, and no fraud...there was no deception.
It's about time that we as a society accepted that work doesn't need to be soul-destroying in order for it to be valid. We don't need to hate our jobs, our boss, and ourselves in order to show we work hard, and only then deserve some kind of return. And what is that term "working hard" all about anyway? Isn't "working well" a better description? Surely being effective is better than being hard. And if something comes naturally, isn't that a good thing? So many fantastic artists i have seen don't market themselves, believing their work can only be a hobby because it's something they love to do. DOH??!!
If reading this has struck a truth in you, then chances are that you have something you do that comes naturally and easily to you. It's called talent, not fraud. It's real, and humanity need you to share it, not keep it locked up in your closet. If you need to share how you feel, let it out now, don't wait 'til you're on your death-bed with a suitcase full of regrets. It's perfectly natural to feel this way, but don't let it ruin your journey.
Embrace your potential.
Express yourself.
Expose that which comes easy...because for so many other people, what you do takes hard work.
Your natural abilities are more valuable than any certificate you could ever get in your life...EVER!!
It's a big word, FRAUD. It has all kinds of connotations with it, and the whole concept has a dirty vibe to it. That's what i felt. Like my dirty secret would eventually get out, and I'd be exposed as nothing more than a pretender, a fake, a low-life wanna-be. Pretty intense, hey. Yet people were paying me good money to write and perform music, i was getting great reviews, the projects i was working on received world-wide acclaim, there were awards and interviews....how was this possible if i was faking it?
So intense were my feelings, that i began to ask a few close artist friends whom i had the greatest creative respect for, "do you ever feel like you're a fake?". Unexpectedly they ALL said yes, each one of them reacting to the question with a sense of relief that they could finally talk about it. I discovered that not only was i not alone in my own feelings, but that this mindset was prevalent in creative vocations. There is an unspoken fear that eventually the artist will be sprung, and they would be forced back to the depths where they belong. Most surprising of all was my discovery that the more talented the artist, the deeper those feelings appeared to run.
Begs the question "why", doesn't it. Well, i can only answer this by drawing from what others have shared with me, and through my own experiences. So here's my theory...
"Talented" artists (we'll leave the discussion of what talent is for another time), often start out in a less traditional way. For example, I'm a self-taught musician, only taking lessons in music to sharpen up my skills and perceptions of my art form as a young adult. This leaves the door wide open to feel less validated and uncredited. Also, music to me comes so naturally...practically effortless. It's so enjoyable, it feels like there is no work involved in it, because most people class work as being something that one has to strive over and struggle with. Music also exposes a passion in me, one that is self-perpetuating...the more music I'm making, the more music i feel inspired to make. Plus, making music kinda gives me a high. All in all, it's such an enjoyable and easy process, fun and passion-invoking, that i feel like i must be cheating somehow.
I remember feeling this way when i used to improvise song arrangements on the piano as a kid to pop songs. I'd listen to a song a few times, and that was all I'd need. My friends would often need a few weeks working on it, but i seemed to already know it. I'd also just start singing harmonies to songs i barely knew...and knew no one else who could do that. i must have been cheating. I felt like i was, because i seemed to already know the answers. It makes perfect logical sense, except that of course there was no cheating involved, and no fraud...there was no deception.
It's about time that we as a society accepted that work doesn't need to be soul-destroying in order for it to be valid. We don't need to hate our jobs, our boss, and ourselves in order to show we work hard, and only then deserve some kind of return. And what is that term "working hard" all about anyway? Isn't "working well" a better description? Surely being effective is better than being hard. And if something comes naturally, isn't that a good thing? So many fantastic artists i have seen don't market themselves, believing their work can only be a hobby because it's something they love to do. DOH??!!
If reading this has struck a truth in you, then chances are that you have something you do that comes naturally and easily to you. It's called talent, not fraud. It's real, and humanity need you to share it, not keep it locked up in your closet. If you need to share how you feel, let it out now, don't wait 'til you're on your death-bed with a suitcase full of regrets. It's perfectly natural to feel this way, but don't let it ruin your journey.
Embrace your potential.
Express yourself.
Expose that which comes easy...because for so many other people, what you do takes hard work.
Your natural abilities are more valuable than any certificate you could ever get in your life...EVER!!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Fear & Excitement: same?
Performers, like myself, spend a lot of time in potentially nervous situations. Standing in front of a crowd who hang on everything you deliver is pretty intense, and in the studio you have an extremely short time slot to come up with some kind of magical essence that will move people. Those who perceive this as a positive experience can do it over and over again. Those who see it negatively will most likely crash and burn (as many creative people do). The pressure can be immense, but there is one simple thing that can make all the difference to anyone who finds themselves in a nervous situation...the perception of fear and excitement.
Your heart races, you feel butterflies flapping wildly in your gut, your breathing intensifies, you feel a sense of heightened sensitivity as your eyes widen and you limbs quiver with anticipation. Fear or excitement? It's both. The only difference between fear and excitement is the way you think about it.
Teaching singers to deal with nervousness is something i really enjoy, because i like a good mind challenge. Most of the things that get in our way are to do with how we look at things, ourselves, and situations, and there's a real sense of satisfaction when a performer can break through a hurdle having met the challenge head-on...literally. So lets look at the example of 2 singers waiting for an audition.
Sally is nervous. That's what she's been telling herself all day ("God, I'm sooo nervous. I wish i wasn't nervous. I can't handle this nervousness!"). She sits in the waiting area to be called, wringing her hands, trying to breath in and out like her mum used to tell her before the school play would start as a kid). She's is trying to relax, tries to distract herself from even thinking about her cold hands and her body's shaking by disengaging from the whole idea. "Don't think about it", she tells herself. "Think about other things". She withdraws within herself in an attempt to escape.
Jen is also waiting to be called in. She's been bubbling over most of the day. She was so excited this morning that she went for a short run before she got ready, just to settle herself. She's been thinking about the audition all day, humming out her songs to herself, playing it over in her mind as her butterflies flutter away in her stomach, but she's been telling herself "I'm soooooo excited! This is going to be so great. I'm so lucky to be here!". She didn't believe herself at first, tempted to called it "nerves", but she resisted. In the waiting area she feels the excitement level increasing. She paces the floor, bouncing on the spot every now and then to discharge her adrenaline, and keeps herself focused an in a positive state of mind. Her body is doing the same things that Sally's is, but Jen keeps moving and keeps up her positive mind speak.
The two have totally different experiences with their audition. Sally has spent so much of her time trying to distance herself from thinking about the audition, that she appears disinterested in it. She has been trying to keep her body so still by attempting to relax, that as soon as she goes to sing, her cells fire up from the build-up of chemicals and she loses vocal control. She gets really down on herself and has given up before she's even half-way through. She leaves in tears, gutted by another sense of failure.
Jan bounds in to the room, and her energy is immediately obvious. She's been releasing her adrenaline all day, so she maintains a lot of vocal control. She brings to her audition a sense of excitement and passion, and though she makes mistakes, she keeps positive and moves on, so well in fact that some of the panel don't even notice her errors. She leaves with a feeling of success.
The flight-or-fight response is our body's way of preparing us for engagement. Whether you call it excitement or nervousness, it's the same physical thing. Chemicals get released into our cells to prepare them with optimum power and strength, and are there to save your life. One of the mistakes people make when they have these feelings is to try and calm them down, but our body is geared up for battle, not for meditation.
If you focus instead on releasing the pressure physically (jump up and down, run around the block, etc), and tell yourself over and over how excited you are (even if at first you don't believe it), you can make a huge difference to your experience. You can then learn to USE that amazing zing and turn it into an opportunity to deliver in a way you can't when you're in your comfort zone. Harnessing this energy instead of denying it can turn a good delivery into something quite remarkable.
Are fear and excitement the same? Try it out for yourself, and you be the judge.
Your heart races, you feel butterflies flapping wildly in your gut, your breathing intensifies, you feel a sense of heightened sensitivity as your eyes widen and you limbs quiver with anticipation. Fear or excitement? It's both. The only difference between fear and excitement is the way you think about it.
Teaching singers to deal with nervousness is something i really enjoy, because i like a good mind challenge. Most of the things that get in our way are to do with how we look at things, ourselves, and situations, and there's a real sense of satisfaction when a performer can break through a hurdle having met the challenge head-on...literally. So lets look at the example of 2 singers waiting for an audition.
Sally is nervous. That's what she's been telling herself all day ("God, I'm sooo nervous. I wish i wasn't nervous. I can't handle this nervousness!"). She sits in the waiting area to be called, wringing her hands, trying to breath in and out like her mum used to tell her before the school play would start as a kid). She's is trying to relax, tries to distract herself from even thinking about her cold hands and her body's shaking by disengaging from the whole idea. "Don't think about it", she tells herself. "Think about other things". She withdraws within herself in an attempt to escape.
Jen is also waiting to be called in. She's been bubbling over most of the day. She was so excited this morning that she went for a short run before she got ready, just to settle herself. She's been thinking about the audition all day, humming out her songs to herself, playing it over in her mind as her butterflies flutter away in her stomach, but she's been telling herself "I'm soooooo excited! This is going to be so great. I'm so lucky to be here!". She didn't believe herself at first, tempted to called it "nerves", but she resisted. In the waiting area she feels the excitement level increasing. She paces the floor, bouncing on the spot every now and then to discharge her adrenaline, and keeps herself focused an in a positive state of mind. Her body is doing the same things that Sally's is, but Jen keeps moving and keeps up her positive mind speak.
The two have totally different experiences with their audition. Sally has spent so much of her time trying to distance herself from thinking about the audition, that she appears disinterested in it. She has been trying to keep her body so still by attempting to relax, that as soon as she goes to sing, her cells fire up from the build-up of chemicals and she loses vocal control. She gets really down on herself and has given up before she's even half-way through. She leaves in tears, gutted by another sense of failure.
Jan bounds in to the room, and her energy is immediately obvious. She's been releasing her adrenaline all day, so she maintains a lot of vocal control. She brings to her audition a sense of excitement and passion, and though she makes mistakes, she keeps positive and moves on, so well in fact that some of the panel don't even notice her errors. She leaves with a feeling of success.
The flight-or-fight response is our body's way of preparing us for engagement. Whether you call it excitement or nervousness, it's the same physical thing. Chemicals get released into our cells to prepare them with optimum power and strength, and are there to save your life. One of the mistakes people make when they have these feelings is to try and calm them down, but our body is geared up for battle, not for meditation.
If you focus instead on releasing the pressure physically (jump up and down, run around the block, etc), and tell yourself over and over how excited you are (even if at first you don't believe it), you can make a huge difference to your experience. You can then learn to USE that amazing zing and turn it into an opportunity to deliver in a way you can't when you're in your comfort zone. Harnessing this energy instead of denying it can turn a good delivery into something quite remarkable.
Are fear and excitement the same? Try it out for yourself, and you be the judge.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Cup Half Full
How i see it, there are 2 ways of looking at things. Either they suck, or they're good. And it's a choice you make, because things don't MAKE you unhappy, you CHOOSE to feel that way. Either you see things as a cup-half-full or a cup-half-empty.
It's not about your nature either. You can teach yourself how to view everything with a positive spin, even if you've been a pessimist all your life. You can teach yourself to tell yourself that it isn't as bad as it could be, it could always be worse, and to take whatever comes as an opportunity to learn, grow, become stronger, teach someone else, etc...
Let's face it, life is a gift. You were lucky to have gotten this far, and millions haven't. You can make the most of it, or wallow away in despair and give up. You can whinge and whine and make yourself feel even worse, or you can believe in the future and turn your situation around.
The cup is filled to same level, no matter how you perceive it, but i can tell you that if it's half full, you'll take great delight in rising to the challenge and turning any weakness into a strength.
It's not about your nature either. You can teach yourself how to view everything with a positive spin, even if you've been a pessimist all your life. You can teach yourself to tell yourself that it isn't as bad as it could be, it could always be worse, and to take whatever comes as an opportunity to learn, grow, become stronger, teach someone else, etc...
Let's face it, life is a gift. You were lucky to have gotten this far, and millions haven't. You can make the most of it, or wallow away in despair and give up. You can whinge and whine and make yourself feel even worse, or you can believe in the future and turn your situation around.
The cup is filled to same level, no matter how you perceive it, but i can tell you that if it's half full, you'll take great delight in rising to the challenge and turning any weakness into a strength.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Are We There Yet?
People often focus on the destination.
Nothing wrong with that. heading towards a goal helps us to achieve them, it motivates us...keeps us on track.
So what about the journey? What happens when the ONLY thing one focuses on is the destination?
Let's look at the example of the road-trip. You've put a big red dot on the destination, and all roads lead there. You calculate an estimate of the time it will take to get there, gather the means by which you can travel there, and work out a plan to implement the journey.
Things start out fine. That destination is all that you can think about, but it's a long trip, and keeping your eyes glued straight ahead has meant you didn't see some very cool scenery soon after you started. Oh, well. The sooner you can get there, the better, so cool views aren't really relevant anyway. The next day you set out on the second leg of the journey, and work out that if you don't make that lunchtime pit-stop, you just might shave half-an-hour off your journey. The pit-stop would have been great, because you could have relaxed, perhaps made a new friend, or even been part of some kind of great story, but your focus is all on the end result.
This goes on for another week before you finally arrive. But you've arrived worn-out, bitter about your crap journey, tired because of no down-time, frustrated with the little things like roadworks which got in your way, and you just feel like shit. Following your recovery, you begin to feel a bit jaded, because you poured so much energy and effort and frustration into getting here, and everyone seems oblivious to your efforts. This place was such a castle-in-the-sky in your mind, but in reality it's just another place...another starting point.
Your friend makes the same trip, and is excited about her destination, but she takes her time, meets people and sees places along the way. She takes it easy on the road and arrives with a myriad of stories about her trip, laughs about how long it took (twice as long as you), and takes a little time to reflect before happily exploring this new place.
Focusing on the end result only might get you there faster, but how much will you miss along the way? Is it worth losing your happiness over? Might you be so headstrong about the destination that you miss other opportunities? And if your destination itself is a state of happiness, wouldn't it be easier to simply enjoy life's journey?
Goals are great, and there's nothing like the feeling of achieving them, but if the journey sux, there's not much chance that you'll truly be able to indulge in the joy of arriving there. And once you get there, there's another goal ahead....or is that a journey? :)
Nothing wrong with that. heading towards a goal helps us to achieve them, it motivates us...keeps us on track.
So what about the journey? What happens when the ONLY thing one focuses on is the destination?
Let's look at the example of the road-trip. You've put a big red dot on the destination, and all roads lead there. You calculate an estimate of the time it will take to get there, gather the means by which you can travel there, and work out a plan to implement the journey.
Things start out fine. That destination is all that you can think about, but it's a long trip, and keeping your eyes glued straight ahead has meant you didn't see some very cool scenery soon after you started. Oh, well. The sooner you can get there, the better, so cool views aren't really relevant anyway. The next day you set out on the second leg of the journey, and work out that if you don't make that lunchtime pit-stop, you just might shave half-an-hour off your journey. The pit-stop would have been great, because you could have relaxed, perhaps made a new friend, or even been part of some kind of great story, but your focus is all on the end result.
This goes on for another week before you finally arrive. But you've arrived worn-out, bitter about your crap journey, tired because of no down-time, frustrated with the little things like roadworks which got in your way, and you just feel like shit. Following your recovery, you begin to feel a bit jaded, because you poured so much energy and effort and frustration into getting here, and everyone seems oblivious to your efforts. This place was such a castle-in-the-sky in your mind, but in reality it's just another place...another starting point.
Your friend makes the same trip, and is excited about her destination, but she takes her time, meets people and sees places along the way. She takes it easy on the road and arrives with a myriad of stories about her trip, laughs about how long it took (twice as long as you), and takes a little time to reflect before happily exploring this new place.
Focusing on the end result only might get you there faster, but how much will you miss along the way? Is it worth losing your happiness over? Might you be so headstrong about the destination that you miss other opportunities? And if your destination itself is a state of happiness, wouldn't it be easier to simply enjoy life's journey?
Goals are great, and there's nothing like the feeling of achieving them, but if the journey sux, there's not much chance that you'll truly be able to indulge in the joy of arriving there. And once you get there, there's another goal ahead....or is that a journey? :)
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Trading Places
Switching out of your own perspective and sliding into someone else's shoes can be a very healthy thing to do. Whether you trade your perspective with your fans, fellow artists, or someone you are having a robust debate with, it's helpful from all sides if you can play the role of empath. After all most of us are seeking to fulfil our needs, and often, whether by chance or planning, WE suddenly arrive in a position to fulfill those needs.
Fans may want inspiration from us to use in their own lives. They might hope for contact, understanding, or simply acknowledgement. The same can be said for most of the people who we have contact with. It's human nature to want confirmation that we exist, that there is meaning in our existence, and that we have a role to play within our own lives.
Even in a heated argument, each side may in fact be more needful of acknowledgement than being told they are right. Passionate exchange is as much about the exploration of ourselves as it is about being validated. It's common for us to say things and take strong positions on topics which we hadn't really thought-out before, because oftentimes it's the argument itself which helps us dig deep and discover for ourselves how we feel and what we believe. It's not all that difficult to acknowledge someone without sacrificing your own view on the matter, simply through the act of stepping into their shoes and trying to see things from their perspective.
For the artist, exploring a work from the viewer's or listener's perspective can help us step back from our work. This is very important on the business end of the Arts, being paid to accomplish a specific task. This doesn't mean "selling out" or jeopardising the creative integrity of a work, but merely offers an opportunity to explore other possibilities. Another person will NEVER see the creative work in the same way as the artist.
Try it. You might be surprised how interesting it can be :)
Fans may want inspiration from us to use in their own lives. They might hope for contact, understanding, or simply acknowledgement. The same can be said for most of the people who we have contact with. It's human nature to want confirmation that we exist, that there is meaning in our existence, and that we have a role to play within our own lives.
Even in a heated argument, each side may in fact be more needful of acknowledgement than being told they are right. Passionate exchange is as much about the exploration of ourselves as it is about being validated. It's common for us to say things and take strong positions on topics which we hadn't really thought-out before, because oftentimes it's the argument itself which helps us dig deep and discover for ourselves how we feel and what we believe. It's not all that difficult to acknowledge someone without sacrificing your own view on the matter, simply through the act of stepping into their shoes and trying to see things from their perspective.
For the artist, exploring a work from the viewer's or listener's perspective can help us step back from our work. This is very important on the business end of the Arts, being paid to accomplish a specific task. This doesn't mean "selling out" or jeopardising the creative integrity of a work, but merely offers an opportunity to explore other possibilities. Another person will NEVER see the creative work in the same way as the artist.
Try it. You might be surprised how interesting it can be :)
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