Photo by Markus Adler
Something that’s always frustrated me about being an artist is the absolute unpredictability of it all. It’s so contrary to the nature of the artist- who has vision of worlds beyond - to surrender control and let it happen TO YOU. The creator wants to create. We want to see what is inside our head, be outside our head for others to behold.
But sometimes the whole process feels like some external force is pulling the strings.
Quite often for me, the creative process feels more like translating than creating. I’ve always said that I don’t write songs, I just write songs down. Don’t get me wrong this process is absolutely exhilarating - it feels just incredible physically. Leya Van Doren and I discuss this on her podcast, The Creative Soul, that just came out this week where I admit that seriously I just wish I could bottle that chemical cocktail that comes with inspiration.
Unfortunately, there is the other side of the coin- when the river of inspiration runs dry. And it seems to come out of nowhere.
For example, on my 29th birthday I wrote 3 incredible verses. They flowed out of me. They felt strong and important. It felt incredible and I stood in awe of the words and song that just appeared to me.
But then it appeared that they had just …. stopped there. The tap ran dry. It feels like running into a wall over and over again. Pointless and painful. The only choice is to drop it. Walk away. Let it go.
This may be the hardest part of the creative process, if it’s required. If you’re lucky, it isn’t. I have some lucky friends, but I’m quite sure they’re the minority. For most of us, however, we MUST learn to make the choice to disengage with our work. We must unhook ourselves.
So, what happened to that song? About a week after my 30th birthday, the chorus came to me in a blissful moment in the sunshine by the water. It felt like the song itself spoke to me. It found me again. Hello old friend. I was hoping I’d hear from you!
And now, I’m taking my time in recording it. I’m letting it age like a fine wine. I’m letting it reveal itself to me in good time. One day in the studio with the band. Then I waited months before the next day in the studio to add harmonies, banjo, and mandolin with one of my best friends. The next step is one last day in the studio for an instrument I haven’t decided on yet. Or rather, it hasn’t been in touch to let me know yet.
Another venture that evoked more resistance than I expected is my blog and e-mail newsletter. I found a flow with the blog until I began really working on releasing the podcast. As for the newsletter, I love to write and to connect with people but there was no flow in a form of communication that I hadn’t used yet. I had to make the flow. This was not a job for the muse. This was more mechanics.
I finally conquered it last month when I sent my first newsletter off. Sign up for my monthly newsletter to see how I continue to do… ;)
