music – The Conscious Pilgrim

the do-gooders

The conversation around authenticity and being ‘self-made’ is always an interesting one to me, and the impetus for this thought today is from 2 very important events that I think we’re probably all tuned in to, which I’ll get to in a minute.

Nobody is self-made. Every last one of us has been shaped by experience and mentorship – some of those experiences are wonderful, and some of them are absolute shit.
Those of us who find ourselves in some of the crappiest situations we can imagine are there because of poor decision making, almost exclusively related to advice we’ve received, and trauma.
Similarly, many of the most successful of us have found ourselves there because of advice we’ve received, and trauma.

But whichever the case, we are guided and manipulated; like a shiny silver pinball being batted around a tilted table until we inevitably glide past our own limited control, and the game is over. Nobody wins at pinball… you just take longer to die than someone else, and then a bunch of people gather in a room and – metaphorically speaking – take a look at your scoreboard. Some people hold all-time records…

One of the highest scores of all time is Dolly Parton… despite a tragic upbringing and constant mocking and criticism at every turn in her life, managed to amass wealth to a degree that most of us will never reach, and did so by putting love and understanding ahead of her personal feelings.

Forbes estimates her value around $500,000,000.00 at a point where she’d purchased and donated 3.5 million books for parents to read to their children, countless fortunes given through charities, and created jobs for an innumerable quantity of people who; incidentally, she’d offered to pay for their college tuition and books for anyone who wanted to further their education. She; herself, never went to college.

She quite literally couldn’t give her money away fast enough to truly rid herself of it.

She’s an outlier in times of a Donald Trump presidency, who’s waged a trade war on Canada, which is an ongoing event that you don’t need to learn of from me when you can consult actual, credible news outlet… so all I will say is that he; too, has received trauma and followed bad advice in his life.

She’s an outlier in times of Elon Musk, a man who’s intent on colonizing Mars in an effort to get away from his family trauma and bad advisors.

I’ll end that list there, because I am not interested in discussing the motives of billionaires, other than to say that Dolly Parton would have been a billionaire if she hadn’t spent so much time giving money away, though a decent amount of her time was also spent writing, as she has more than 3000 songs with her name on them currently… which is probably a bit light, since copyright laws around creative works has a long, storied history of being shady.

I’m reminded of Fred Rogers in this moment, when he recounted an experience of about seeing calamity on the news and becoming visibly upset. His mother consoled him and said “Look for the helpers. any time something bad happens, you will always find people helping.“

To say that Dolly was a helper is a massive understatement, and there are obviously many accolades I’ve left out – but you’d be hard pressed to find someone who had something bad to say about her.

It’s easy to say that these are dark times, but I maintain that if you are looking for darkness, you will find it. So be sure to take a minute and “look for the helpers…“

Maybe even be a helper.
Seems we’re short on those.

As an aside, I received an amazing number of text messages and direct messages through social media within the first 10 minutes of the announcement that Dolly Parton had passed.

I didn’t know what to do with that information when I recieved it… and in retrospect, neither did any of the people who reached out to me. We all just needed to make sure that everyone knew that
The Queen is Dead. Long Live The Queen.

For the record, I was never a superfan of her music.
It was great, and authentic, and inspired generations of people to take the world on their own terms.

Personally, I just have a couple of her records, and a lot of respect.

trials and tribulations

Every time I leave to play shows, I know there’s a certain amount of danger and uncertainty that goes with that. We don’t talk about it – but it’s there… and what is essentially a stroke of bad luck feels all-encompassing, endless, and impossible.

There’s a long list of things to be grateful for in the midst of those circumstances, but that evades us when the bill comes. The bill in this case came in the form of a transmission shop invoices totalling several thousand dollars, and was accompanied by 2 tow-truck bills and a couple extra nights in a hotel 6 hours from home.

There’s a checklist though, and it needs to be acknowledged – and in spite of the fact that there are a million little things that are frustrating, there is ONE BIG ONE:
– nobody got hurt
Really… that’s good enough, but the checklist goes on, and the next 2 concerns are:
– the payment went through
– we didn’t miss any shows

The bummer count is pretty minimal:
– I got a new nephew I had to put off meeting
– shit’s expensive

Ultimately, that’s a successful trip by many metrics. Even more successful when you account for the fact that in 30 years of doing this, I’ve never been stranded anywhere. We’re all happy & healthy as far as it goes.

My time stranded in Lethbridge, AB furnished me with a decent hotel and the ability to get some work done, I was able to get a prescription renewed, I had a guitar with me, it was probably the best weather conditions that town has had for most of the summer, and everything I needed was within walking distance except for the transmission shop where my whip was parked, and being there a couple times only cost me one cab ride. Otherwise I was chauffeured.

What’s more – the crazy situation that brought about our bass player’s wife’s gut feeling that something was amiss. She was attending an event relatively close by, decided to wander up to an area with cell reception, and worked out a plan to get us back on the road for the last show of the trip with their vehicle… it wasn’t without it’s logistical challenges, but ultimately a miraculous set of circumstances once you take a step back.

Beyond all of THAT… the ability to pay comes straight out of a strange set of circumstances around a sum of money that we received. Still not without it’s frustration and emotional turmoil… and repayment, of course – but it was possible.

Miraculous.

30 years on, and there’s still signs in the sky that we’re supposed to be doing this.

Where are we this playing week? Castle Mountain, near Pincher Creek… about an hour away from where I was stranded a few days ago.

If you see me grinnin’ (you won’t, but if you do…) it’s because I have a lucky horseshoe supplanted somewhere.

back in the black

There are seasons to everything. Except Edmonton weather, I guess. Edmonton weather has been a carnival ride with varying vomit-inducing speeds, but I guess I’ll save that line of complaining for another day.

The fall; historically speaking, ahs been the ‘back to basics’ time for me. Summer comes to an end, and the loathing associated with the malady of late nights and lazy afternoons comes into view. This is when I find myself growing weary of half-assed workouts and lazy sundays, and my thirst for personal discipline and productivity are in play.

It’s happening now.
It’s a couple weeks early, actually.

I’ve found my macro balance and am staring down my meal plans, and am formulating my workout plan for the winter, to commence Monday. There’s a lot of things I wish I had gotten to this summer, but my resentments are mostly based around the summertime and the fact that my favorite mountain bike trail has been continually washed out week after week, and I can’t complain too much as I prepare to launch my side-hustle business that I may have an artistic collaborator on. Who could be upset about that?

I’ve learned a lot this year so far, particularly pertaining to my mental health and to the mental health of the people around me. There are a lot of things that I thought about myself that are not true, and in retrospect, I was trying to convince myself were true. You can sell yourself on just about anything, for a while. Maybe forever, if you stop searching – but who wants to stop searching?

Not this cowboy.

I’m back in black in all the ways.
I’m on top.
Even making that assertion feels good. Right. Strong.
I’ve been mourning and issuing sympathy to my younger self, and as important as that is, I am now seeing that I can give grace to my younger self without letting my current self wander off-leash.
That kid needs grace… but this man needs to kick his own ass into gear.

It’s time to run miles and write songs and build circuits and lift weights.
… now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been doing those things all along – just not to the intense degree that I love. I realize that my regimen is still more disciplined and intense than most people, but this isn’t about most people. It’s about me.

Even the nights are getting longer and the days are getting shorter.
It’s cooling off.
It’s go-time.

I know I have a tendency to let things slip when I’m needed… and I don’t regret that at all. That’s part of being human, and part of community. I just wish I could return to discipline in a more effective and efficient way.

This summer has been fraught with crazy event after crazy event, but a (more) disciplined morning plan would have helped me.

As well, I only just realized that I’ve been receiving messages from this blog and just stumbled upon how to check and respond to them. There’s an embarrassing amount of correspondence over the past few years and to those who have reached out and gotten nothing back, I apologize.

Hopefully it’s not too late for the collaborations and re-posts that have been pitched to me. If you sent me a message once upon a time, and you’re still reading this blog, I’m sorry. I’ve begun replying to these incredibly overdue messages.

If you’re in Grande Prairie this weekend, I’m playing guitar at The Great Northern with Robin Kelly’s Elvis Tribute “Long Live The King” and I’ll be at Sterling Skull getting my leg colored on by Chris Rhyason, the damn coyote himself.

Stop in at the vegan bakery across the street on your way in 😉

meaningful engagement

As a musician in the 21st century, I have been marketed to – much in the fashion that wild animals have had bullets marketed to them – an unending barrage of “ways to get my music heard” that all say the same thing and appeal to the same part of my ego…

The part of my ego that believes that everyone walking the earth would benefit from having my music in their lives. That all I really need is the have the kind of exposure that Dave Grohl and Jack White can afford, and that the quality and integrity of my art will do the rest.

For starters… What a stupid thing to think.

Am I so brazen to believe that (a) the MAJORITY of people are actively looking for the exact thing I am making; and despite their tireless efforts, have not yet found what I am making that will end their search forever?

Not really. Not anymore, anyway.

I mean sure, I’d love to play to a stadium full of people – but the caveat would have to be that those people give a shit what I am doing and I think we need to be honest about how unlikely that is, given that IF I were given such an opportunity at this point in my life, it would be because I’d be opening for a band people care about, and that most of the people seeing me perform in this fictitious setting would primarily view me as an annoying thing preventing them from singing along to all their favorite songs that the headliner performs.

What would be of more value would be to play in a smaller room full of people who genuinely want to connect with me and what I’m doing.

So, a crowd that is 2% the size of the stadium crowd, but that is 100% into it.

In a lot of ways, it’s back to basics for me right now.

It’s new record-launch time, and although I am proud of the record me & the boys have made, I have to say that I couldn’t care less about how the “general public” feels about it. I’m certain that it will reach the ears it’s mean to reach, but in the meantime, as long as we do our best to let our ‘return-fans’ (we’ll call ’em) know that there’s a fresh, new, shiny way to support this lil’ rock & roll band from Edmonton, then we can count on moving some records.

It’ll also remind promoters that we exist and are actively doing things. That’s always a good thing to broadcast.
Some radio shows will talk to us on-air.
Some blogs will review it.
Local paper might do something to promote the release show whenever that happens.

Sure, it’ll find new ears, as records do.
Our last record will continue to do so as well.

So as an artist, I’m good – I’m good with these songs I wrote, I’m good with the recording and mastering, and the artwork is killer. I’m good with making them available to whoever stumbles across them. We’ll play some more shows with some more cool bands. We’ll spend a bunch of time on the highway with a trailer in-tow.

But as a businessman in a rock & roll band, I struggle… not only because this record isn’t the only thing going on in my life, but because I’m actually content to let this record find it’s people in a more organic way.

Sure, we’ll promote it. Of course we will.
We’re proud of it, and it rips super hard and we DO believe that peoples’ lives WILL BE MADE BETTER by having heard it.

Just… not everyone, everywhere.

This is a record made by people who have been misunderstood most (more like ALL) of their lives, and it’s dedicated TO the rest of the people out there who have been misunderstood for most of their lives.

This record will very likely be misunderstood.
It fits nowhere and it fits everywhere.
It’s too rock & roll for country & rockabilly and it’s too twangy for rock & roll.
It hits super hard and all the songs are about real things, and real feelings.

It’s awesome.
And it will find it’s crowd.
And I will help it do that.

failure to land

“Failure to launch” is not a problem I deal with very often. In 44 years of bumping into walls (and hyperfixating simultaneously) with everything from navigating my own skill set in the workforce, to self-propulsion within the arts, I’ve developed a pretty vast knowledge base in a number of areas… project management, contract negotiation, self-promotion, delegation, songwriting, copywriting, policy writing, web content writing, videography, design, photography, guitar playing, composition, music theory…

… it’s a long list.

I thought for a long time that I was a one-trick pony.
In reality… it’s a hell of a trick.

Getting off the ground has never been a challenge for me. But I do have a comfort zone… and as a result, I’ve cratered more than a few projects before they really had a chance to develop out what I can only conclude is a fear of success – the notion that getting good at the wrong thing will make it so that the money will keep me in place and my soul will forever be unhappy has dogged me for a lot of my life.

Since identifying this roughly a decade ago, I’ve worked hard to counter this action. I thought I was keeping myself free, but really I was tethering myself in this safe and familiar struggle.

I now understand this to be a neurodivergent trait. ADHD, specifically.

Negative self talk plays a big role.

What’s interesting though, is that in the face of uncertainty, I’ve been pretty adaptable. I find a safe place to recoup, and I move forward from there. I’m certain that it’s a trauma response of some kind, but I suppose that’s fine, because (a) we ALL have unresolved trauma, and (b) we are learning machines.

I think back to my split with my wife 15 years ago, which was a tumultuous and difficult time, of course. I spent some time living in my emotional state… and then I got to work. My rent wasn’t going to pay itself, and I knew immediately that the way I treated my new ex-wife was going to directly affect my daughter’s relationships with men. Fortunately for me, when it comes to ex-wives, I hit the jackpot… so I got to work on being the best man I could be, which is simultaneously not hard, and impossible.

What we can’t see in the moment is that there’s a process involved. No species ever decided to evolve, but there’s evidence of it everywhere. I never thought “one day, I’ll be THIS, and live happily ever after” because that doesn’t exist in the moment – it exists in the future.

My understanding that “this is a process” exists exclusively in the past and I am only aware of the process because I followed it. There’s lots of guys out there that don’t have a clue about any of this… and that’s their journey, not mine.

That process worked.

My daughter turns 18 this year. She’s spent the majority of highschool on the honour role, she’s more self aware and independent than I ever could have been at that age, and the day she was admitted into University – a day that is still very fresh in my mind – was the day I could officially say that she oupaced her old man. I’m very proud.

I only understand now that there was a process… and thank god I followed it.

In the moment, that process doesn’t mean anything.
The only thing that mattered in each moment of the past 18 years was “How do I love this kid?“

It’s the same for everything else I’ve ever done: How do I solve this? How to I climb this? How to I conquer this? How do I enjoy this? How do I survive this?

It’s in retrospect that I am skilled at anything.

I always wanted an immediate result.
A magic pill.
An answer key.
A hand.

But those things were never availed to me.
If you’re ever wondering what “God helps those who help themselves” (which I believe is a Benjamin Franklin quote, not a bible verse) really means… that’s what it means.

the hollywood version of not giving a fuck

I turned 44 earlier this week. The notion that I’m in better shape, both mentally and physically, than I was at 34 certainly takes the sting out birthdays.

I gotta say, now that we’re past the 1/3 mark of 2026, this year is absolutely wild. There are bonkers-level things happening all around me as I both prepare my child to be become a legal adult and am anticipating being an uncle (again) – I had assumed (and even posted about) the notion that I’d be settled in, riding shotgun for some massive life changes for the people around me.

… then I got a wild (to me, not surprising to many others) mental health diagnosis and decided to start an arts-based side business.

It’s certainly an interesting time in my life, as the combination of so many of the events of my life are coming into view with a much clearer focus than ever before at the very same time that so many of the artistic and business experiences are gathering under the same umbrella.

Every experience I’ve ever had has brought me here, whether significant or otherwise. Every show I’ve played, website I’ve launched, shirt I’ve ironed, dishwasher load I’ve put away, beer I drank, beer I said ‘no’ to… all of it was a step toward this exact moment in time. I feel alive.

I’m anticipating some test pressings from the new Confusionaires record pretty quick here. We haven’t announced anything about it other than teasers but given the 7 songs that are featured on it, I think the single we’ve chosen is atypical. In the past we’ve chosen catchy, short songs (as most of our songs have been catchy and short) but this time around we’ve chosen something with a little more franticness and urgency – it’s rock & roll, it’s got a country riff, and it feels like a surf song, and it’s about something. It doesn’t care what you think.

It’s called “Anything Happens All The Time” andit about how anything can happen on the road, and it does. I’m excited for you to hear it and I am not concerned with whether or not you like it. But I DO want you to buy a record. I’m not certain how release dates for this album will go because festival season is fast approaching now, and I really don’t have any interest in hosting a show at a time when nobody is around to come see it.

How’s that for complex?

I also don’t think we’re doing a video… not a formal one, anyway. Maybe a live one down the road but I the way we’ve been approaching this batch of songs is different than our previous records. We have some Alberta and B.C. dates through the summer.

Perhaps we’re older and wiser.
Perhaps we’re just older.
Maybe we don’t give a fuck anymore… Honestly I hope that’s the case, because that’s where bands always start doing their best work. I’ve essentially been waiting my entire life to stop giving a fuck what other people think.

I always thought I didn’t care what people thought… but it turns out I cared a lot about how I was perceived – and I wanted to be perceived as someone who didn’t care what you thought. I had the “Hollywood Version” of not giving a fuck… which is in the same realm as being “Hollywood Fat” which is not fat at all, just ‘less defined’ in the muscle department (like me!). It’s also similar to the “Hollywood Ending” wherein everything gets resolved, which is a laughable concept at 44 years old.

Life is not like that.
Life doesn’t have an instagram filter, and is certainly not AI generated.
Life is lived.
Life is weathered.
It’s complicated and it gets bloated, and has bad hair days and wears ugly sweaters unironically on occasion.
Life has mustard stains.

At any rate, this is my public journal entry for the week, in all entitled glory.

Some really cool things on the horizon, and I am doing my best to live in this moment, here & now, because I know I will never be here again. I will never stand in this river again because the river is always flowing and I am always changing, growing, and learning.

Much love.

scheduling creative output

Sounds counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?
Well, maybe it doesn’t to you, but it always did to me.
Don’t knock it ’til you try it, though.

I’m not sure when, or how I started doing it, but it’s been a few years of attempting to do this and I have to say, It’s been working pretty well. However, there are some common beliefs that most people seem to hold around creativity that you’re going to have to drop if you want to get a handle on this.

There’s no such thing as writer’s’ block…

… or any other kind of creativity block for that matter. Writer’s (or creator’s) block; as a concept, is not the inability to write (or creator). It’s the fear that you’re going to write something bad.

So, write something bad and toss it. You’ve written bad things before and tossed them.
Night time is not the only time you can make art.

You don’t have to dig very hard to find documentation that supports the notion that proper diet, exercise, and a good night’s sleep does wonders for your brain. It stands to reason that; since your brain is pretty heavily involved in the artisan process, that you could sleep during that sacred late hour and be more refreshed and more creative any other time of day.

You might just prefer to create at night. That’s fine. But it’s worth noting that there are reasons for it, such as being interrupted by distraction less, since most people are asleep, and we have social contracts in place that prevent people from calling late at night. Maybe you have a fear of missing out during the regular waking hours. Maybe you lack discipline. It doesn’t matter, really… work all night for all I care – but acknowledge that it’s ultimately a choice.
Drugs and alcohol don’t make your art better.

If anything, they make bad art more tolerable. You’re free to believe whatever you want but I’ve seen more than a few decent artists become shitty artists, seemingly on purpose. I don’t have a problem with drug fuelled art – I actually enjoy quite a bit of it, but I do believe that art was in you to begin with.

In an alternate reality, I’d have been able to hear Hendrix play straight & sober. I think we tend to (and yes, I have certainly done this) have a propensity for nerves, and want to ‘take the edge off’ in order to give what we think will be a better performance.

But to “take the edge off” is to admit that (a) you have an ‘edge’ and (b) understand why. I’d rather “live on the edge”, if you’ll pardon the antiquated term.

Clearly I’m not talking about prescribed medication here.

Circumstances. I get up early and I go to the gym. I often work up a sweat, as is typical with long intervals of steady-state cardio followed by heavy weightlifting. Since I have an elevated heart rate, my blood pumps faster, speeding the whole body system up, including the brain. As a result I get wild ideas about art and writing while I’m running on a treadmill, or on the trails, or lifting weights – often frustratingly with nothing to write on or with.

I keep my weightlifting progress noted, but my pen actually DIED this morning, which may have been what prompted this whole post.

I’ve taken to writing emails to myself so I can log the idea or develop it further next time I’m sitting at a computer. Hours later, computer bound, I’ve written numerous songs, blog posts, and developed a few different ideas for my most recent art project. Obviously, during the work day, I’m fairly focused on the tasks at hand, but once the evening rolls around and I’ve got a few hours to burn, I’ll dig in hard.

Dig in on what? I may have to consult my calendar reminders…

If there’s an upcoming show I’m playing, I may find myself running songs, which will likely turn into me trying to perfect some technique by the end of the alotted time.

If it’s an idea for an art project, or a further pursuit of an idea I’ve been working on for some time then I’ll leave it a little bit open. I may need to solder or weld something – but; if my hands and eyes don’t want to work together, then I might do some sanding or prep some things for paint. OR, maybe I’ll just plug a guitar in and push creativity that way.

The point isn’t specifically what I’m doing, so long as I am moving forward. All steps forward are progressions toward the ultimate goal, so just because I didn’t accomplish exactly what I’d set out to doesn’t mean I didn’t accomplish anything… small wins are still wins… even if it ends up being on a completely different project altogether.

That’s some AuDHD shit right there. The time dedicated to art is planned… of the 2 (groan…) “Wolves” inside me (ASD and ADHD) – the plan is integral to my success as an autistic artist. I have set aside this time for this and if I don’t use the time and space to be creative then I’ll be upset. The ADHD in me is totally fine with “my painting sucks today… let’s hash out some guitar riffs” and can seamlessly move to another creative outlet. This is how I’ve learned how to utilize both sides of this AuDHD diagnosis and it’s been very helpful to be able to acknowledge both, and how important each of them are.

Then when it’s time to wind down (again, a predetermined time), it’s important to develop and practice a routine that gets your head out of the art and into the pillow. That can be really hard to do… but fortunately you’re allowed to make notes, or send yourself another email, all in an effort to spend what’s left of the mental energy and move into a place of quiet and rest.

Then you can get that ever important sleep, get some good food in you, and maybe your hands won’t be so shaky tomorrow evening and you (or I, in this instance) can get that soldering or welding project tackled after all.

The goal; for me, at least… is to be artistic in all aspects of life. It’s perfectly natural to have a few projects on the go at a time… but if distraction is a challenge for you then you may need to limit the amount of projects you take on, or at least change your expectations of progress.

There’s no wrong way to make art, but there are definitely ways of being more effective and being more efficient… and there are ways of being an artist and taking care of yourself, too…