Tag: writing

balance

I am always searching for balance.

I have goals to look a certain way, perform to a certain level, run certain distances, eat a certain way, write songs to a certain standard… in amongst working and sleeping and being an attentive adult / father / partner / employee, it doesn’t take much to knock it all off kilter.

So, I have to stop and take stock of where I’m at.

It comes down to what kind of life I want to live.

If I could have everything I wanted, I’d be a Ironman Triathlete who played 250 shows per year to 10,000+ audiences, and have a personal chef, and would train 6 days a week… but it would be a solitary life, surrounded by people and close to noone.

If I trained for an Ironman, I’d have to put my rock & roll band on ice for a while. Any vacation time I had would be spent training. I’d hardly have time for my family because all I’d be doing was training, eating and sleeping.

If I were to chase bigger crowds with my music, I’d likely have to scale back my training, and spend more time at the right parties, socializing, and I’d compromise my health and the quality of my art.

If I lean into my daytime career, I’d likely crater my band, and possibly alienate my family doing so. I wouldn’t train much at all and I’d eat in restaurants and sleep in hotels far too much.

So I try to live my life in the middle… and my life in the middle is pretty great.

I’m 43 years old. I am on 0 medications, and have 0 health complications to be concerned with. I am available to people who need me, including my employer, I have great artistic output with top tier musicians and we do things the way we want them to be done.

All this to say, I am grateful for what I have, and I am happy where I am – because where i am is in a state of progress. I am moving forward in my life and in my art, not backward. I train hard, and I eat like an athlete… but there’s still room in my life for a vegan donuts. I play rock & roll and write songs constantly… but I’m still home for dinner and a dog walk. I work hard, but I’m still available to my family and my friends.

I’m serious.
But I don’t take myself too seriously.

I’ve been trying to find balance for so long that I almost didn’t recognize it when I found it.

context

Even a portrait with a blank background still has a background. The background is not absent, it’s just blank, and it allows us to project our own background onto it if we wish to do so – but some won’t. Their lack of imagination or inability to align themselves with the artist’s vision may lead them to believe the artist was lazy, or that the work is unfinished.

But it’s just blank.

Sometimes I try to write like that.
Songs, not blog posts.
It doesn’t work for me, or at least I’m never happy with the end result. So I give it context. Then, in the editing phase, I remove some of that context.

I’ve been giving some thought to a series of short videos wherein I get into the subject matter of my songs, where they come from and why they were written. I’ve received encouragement into this because (a) I’ve got a lot to draw from in The Confusionaires songbook alone, let alone my own catalog from before that, and (b) people seem to be able to acknowledge that my songs are about real things, and that those things aren’t always super clear.

Every once in a while, I get asked what a song is about. It’s always flattering and slightly unnerving, because the genre that my band operates in doesn’t really have a Kerouac or Bob Dylan character. Most songs in the genre are about girls and cars, and while I don’t shy away from the usual tropes, I don’t really write about such things (to the point that my girlfriend semi-regularly gives me grief about not writing love songs).

Girls and cars might play a role in a story-song, but there is usually some larger statement at the heart of the songs I write… questions of morality, sense of purpose, nihilism, higher calling, death, internal struggle… you get the picture. But I make it catchy, and squeeze it into 2 minutes and 45 seconds at 250 bpm, and nobody really notices… until they do.

I imagine that there are people out there who have picked up on what I’m saying and not asked, and are taking me out of context. I honestly have no idea.

Beyond myself, though, I think we’ve all been taken out of context… and I would wager that we take someone ELSE out of context almost every single day, even if it’s small. Between phenomenons such as ‘vaguebooking’ and our propensity to only read the headline of an article and somehow feeling informed enough to voice an opinion on something. It’s to the point that most of the articles you see on social media now are just screenshots of stories, and I don’t think most people noticed.

It’s the reason you won’t see me jumping on bandwagons when it comes to people with controversial opinions. The way people are willing to destroy each other over differing opinions and misunderstandings is gross. I’m not talking about gender identity or nazis or any of that stuff – I mean actual differences of opinion, and actual lack of context, because I don’t believe that every right-wing voter is a nazi who hates poor people any more than I believe that all lefties are barefoot vegan hippies who use cloth diapers.

You, much like me, have things you’re conservative about and things you’re liberal about, but we’re forced to cast a couple of votes every half-decade to political parties who are constantly trying to point out our differences. Buzz-word authors and podcast hosts are trying to instill some measure of ‘holier than thou’ / ‘you’re either with us or against us’ rhetoric constantly, and if you’re not maintaining your algorithm diligently by being intentional with what you ‘like’ and what you remove from your feed, then you won’t be able to keep the wolves away.

I’m pretty accustomed to being misunderstood. My parent’s never really understood me. A lot of my friends never understood me. I’ve been misrepresented in newspapers when promoting my music. I’ve been called names I didn’t deserve. I’ve been shunned by communities and friend groups… and really none of this is special – it’s probably all happened to you before, too… yet here we are, doing the exact thing that’s brought us all so much pain over the years, only to realise that the pain from over the years has shaped who we are today…
And that’s not so hard to see…
… once we put it into context.

primitive machines

I’ve mentioned my car in previous posts – sometimes passively and sometimes not, but I’ve got a 1962 Ford Fairlane 500 2-door sedan that I have had for 13 years, and I’ve been making up for lost time with it as of late. There’s a high probability that I’m the only vegan, environmentalist, rockabilly-playing old car enthusiast you follow.

It’s been road-worthy for almost the whole time I’ve had it but there have been a few things it’s desperately needed over the years that are finally getting done. I feel like this car teaches me something every time I crawl under it. It’s a series of interconnected, simple machines that need maintenance and rebuilding from time to time and I’m blessed with the opportunity to look after this piece of gas-guzzling history. In truth, it gets better fuel mileage than my modern truck.

I’m not sure if I gained patience over the years, or if I’ve become more patient with this car, or both – but I’ve reignited a kinship with this automobile, where I take care of what it needs and it takes care of what I need. The series of little wins that come with things as small as oil-changes or putting new pads on the pedals, and as big as rewiring the whole car, or custom building the exhaust system, have done wonders for my mental health and have helped me to navigate around my brain and my ego in a way I’d never anticipated I’d ever be able to… or ever thought I’d have to.

As we round out the month of July, I can pretty much count the number of weekends of summer tinkering and enjoyment I have left before I ‘shift gears’ and take on some manner of winter project. I’m anticipating a fruitful winter of productive work on the interior of the car assuming we don’t dig in before then (and I say we because I’ve had the luxury of sharing this part of this project with my girlfriend).

The journey of self-discovery through vehicle maintenance has been wild and I’m fortunate to have such a presence in my life at this stage of the game.

a.i. art

“Art echoes the human experience, so for someone to even refer to A.I. generated images or sounds as ‘art’ is a minor pet peeve. Any A.I. generated music is likely to be prompted with profit in mind, rather than quality – so my career as a twangy rock & roll recording artist is no more in jeopardy from A.I. than it is from any blossoming DJ remixing top 40 hits in the same year as my next release – it doesn’t even register as a blip on the screen. “

Beyond everyone’s dystopic fears of being enslaved by robots, there are several much more nuanced conversation about A.I. that can be had in the here & now – because no matter how you feel about it, A.I. is happening. The only portion of this conversation I feel remotely qualified to have is that around art.

People are worried; as they have a right to be, that A.I. is changing the landscape of what can be defined as art and what a piece of art might cost, and I think before we take the hair-on-fire reaction to something we don’t fully understand, we’re going to have to acknowledge a few glaring problems within this industry. As I go through this I’ll be toggling between a few different kinds of art.

The first of which; is that most people can’t afford to purchase original art. The glaring example is that The Mona Lisa; owned by The Louvre Museum in Paris, France, is essentially priceless. It’s hypothetically worth more than a billion dollars, but it’s not for sale regardless – this does not prevent me from purchasing a beach towel or a pair of socks with the image printed on it for a much more manageable price tag. I enjoy the licensing of that image, essentially for free.

I own printed copies of original artwork, still in support of the artist, purchased from the artist for a fraction of what a commissioned piece would cost. Many of us do, so the argument of ‘the original article’ vs ‘a reasonable facsimile’ is best left to people with an actual art budget.

Similarly, if I want to hear Bruce Springsteen sing ‘Hungry Heart’ it’s going to cost me a few hundred bucks, an evening, and I’m going to have to wait for the luxury. If I’m willing to settle for a cover band’s rendition of it, I’ll save more than a few bucks.

That’s all from a consumer’s standpoint. As an songwriter and recording artist, myself, I have to say that the entire world has been “getting the milk for free” for a long time without ever worrying about the price of the cow. I truly believe that we should all be able to subside and thrive off of the fruits of our artistic labor, but in the same breath I have to say that if you are making music or making art specifically for notoriety or financial gain, that you’d be better off picking up a part-time job at 7-11.

I make music because it’s in me to make. I’m not sure I really have a choice in the matter – and yes, what I do has value, and I am compensated for my efforts when I perform – but streaming revenues are not something that an artist like me banks on, but it seems to be the price of trying.

Art echoes the human experience, so for someone to even refer to A.I. generated images or sounds as ‘art’ is a minor pet peeve. Any A.I. generated music is likely to be prompted with profit in mind, rather than quality – so my career as a twangy rock & roll recording artist is no more in jeopardy from A.I. than it is from any blossoming DJ remixing top 40 hits in the same year as my next release – it doesn’t even register as a blip on the screen. As a matter of fact, the original version of the aforementioned top 40 hit didn’t register a blip, either, as it was more than likely pieced together in a board room in Sweden by a handful of men led by Max Martin or one of his disciples who specialize in turning note intervals into dollar signs.

… and if Max Martin loses his job to A.I., I have a feeling he won’t be on the bread line any time soon. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’s already using it to make his life easier.

My thoughts drift to my subtle awareness of how the diamond industry works. Aside from the hellscape that is the Blood Diamond trade, I learned a while back that in the golden age of diamond mining, the pursuit was ‘the perfect diamond’ meaning of course that it had no; or at least very few, flaws. That is until the advent of the cubic zirconia, which is a synthetic compound with an equally stunning appearance that served to crater the notion of mining the perfect diamond, and the end result was an increased valuation on diamonds that were previously considered less valuable due to their flaws. This is because the presence of flaws made for easier certification of real diamonds. Clearly, the diamond industry has it’s problems.

This is analogous to the music industry in a number of ways. With the advent of most advances in recording technology, there have been people who push against it, arguing that the integrity of the craft is being lost – but there are flocks of music fans who go out of their way to see live music in all it’s imperfections, as well as purchase live albums, and seek out ‘gritty’ and ‘raw’ recordings because they feel more ‘real.’ With the undoubted flawless execution of music works performed by A.I. there’s little doubt in my mind that the number of people looking for the humanity in their music and art will only grow larger.

In the end… writers will probably take the biggest hit from this. Copywriters, translators (if there are any left), editors, some journalists I’m sure… but the greatest artistic works will continue to be the echoes of lived experience, which is something A.I. can never profess to have.

In the end, I guess you can go ahead and make all the A.I. generated “art” you want… just don’t expect me to pay for it.

Frankly, I’d be more interested to hear that A.I. has taken on the menial tasks of humanity – all the toilet scrubbing & burger flipping – for free, so we can be free to create more art than ever.

his dying wish

“Comments sections being the fountains of bootless insight that they are, the majority of commenters stated that they would grant a man his dying wish but since the 12-steps of Recovery tend to get well-battered by onlookers who don’t understand addiction and compulsion, I’m inclined to disagree with the majority.”

I recently happened upon some writing about William Griffith Wilson, often known as Bill W. who is credited as one of the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous (12 step) and was the author of ‘The Big Book‘ which detailed how to successfully recover from alcoholism. Bill W.’s lifestyle leaves a little to be desired, as the lifestyles of many men in the first few decades of the 20th century might. I’m addressing it because there’s potential for some know-it-all to try and devalue my point by muddying it up by with irrelevant facts, but I won’t dwell on it because it’s not important to my statement.

The story that got me digging was the documented four (4) requests for a bottle of whiskey to be brought to him in his hospital bed as emphysema gradually dismantled him. Each request was made roughly a week after the previous one, and he was denied every time. When he passed, he was 36 years sober.

Comments sections being the fountains of bootless insight that they are, the majority of commenters stated that they would grant a man his dying wish but since the 12-steps of Recovery tend to get well-battered by onlookers who don’t understand addiction and compulsion, I’m inclined to disagree with the majority. What limited knowledge I have of the 12 steps indicates to me more that it’s a guide toward spiritual enlightenment more so than it is a fleeting attempt to prevent early death or lobbing a metaphorical grenade into all your personal relationships – but that is a discussion for another day, I reckon.

Anyway: The reason I; too, would have denied him has nothing to do with the power of addiction and everything to do with the power of legacy, and the fact that even the slightest rumors of that simple slip-up in the twilight hours of his life would have completely deflated the AA movement and may have shaken the ground on which many recovered addicts stood, and continue to stand now. It may be a documented 20% effective, but that’s still millions upon millions of people.

There are things we are part of that are important, and that are so much bigger than ourselves that deserve our respect even at our weakest points. The 12 steps of Recovery are steeped in this idea. We are artists and creators, and by association to our communities are contributors and groundbreakers, creating a legacy that will one day overshadow our small contributions. In my purview Bill W. is no different in this situation and I’m glad he was able to rely on the people around him at his weakest moments.

Maybe I’m wrong. Lemme know what you think!

Training this week was good. I adhered to my program without wavering and pushed myself as planned.

Monday we swam 750m, and spent a little over half an hour doing it. Neither of us had been in a pool since May so we figured that was a good place to start – and ultimately I don’t think either of us lost much in the way of speed, though we’ll see what happens when the distances increase.

Tuesday I rode 45 minutes on the stationary bike before spending another 40 minutes weightlifting, focusing on my chest and biceps (the ‘pushing’ muscles)

Wednesday was a rest day, and Thursday was a 30 minute jog with my heartrate sitting around 136 beats per minute, hovering consistently between 8.5 and 9 km/hour. Zone 2, babies. I didn’t get my 10 minutes on the stair climber due to running out of time, but I pushed hard on Friday to make up for it.

Friday I rode another 45 minutes – this time paying closer attention to my rpms and watts as I rode in a gear I haven’t been comfortable in since starting back up a few weeks ago… but I’m there now. So I’m pretty consistently pushing 150 watts at 60 rpms. After that I spent another 45 minutes primarily working my back & triceps (the ‘pulling’ muscles) and digging in hard on those muscle groups.

Today is Saturday, and I’ll be biking another 45 minutes and running 15 minutes – I’m possibly doing that as you read this, really. These numbers start to increase next week though.

All in all, I’m good with how this went and I’m looking forward to the increases in effort over the next week when I add time to a couple of those bike sessions.