Blog

I am a social media addict. I would rather spend my time consuming content than creating it; I am gullible person and believe everything I read, no matter how far-fetched. This is debilitating when following other artists on social media. I doubt my own ability when I don't have the new album or Spotify stats to brag about. I often feel like my own brain is getting in the way of deep, creative work. 

I've compiled a list of strategies and ideas I'm trying or continuing in 2020 in hopes of making more time for creativity, and believing my work is worthy of sharing with others. I thought it'd be worth sharing in case you are feeling as trapped by your phone as I am.

Wow, where did the time go? It’s been about a year since the last time I posted on here. I wanted to make you all aware of a podcast that I found really motivational. Shovels and Rope have always been in my musical rotation; I love their grittiness, their rockabilly vibes, their earnestness.

NPR recently released a sit-down interview with Black Thought that is so unbelievably insightful and well worth a watch. I really connected with the beginning of the video, where Black Thought talks about how his music has matured and how he's grown as an artist. How his music has a new lyrical depth than what he was making at 20 years old. 

Black Thought is the voice of reason I needed to hear. I'm 25; I know that's not "old," but I've been making music now for more than 10 years. I wonder if I'm relevant enough to make music anymore, if anyone still cares to hear it. I don't want to write like a pop singer anymore; I don't feel connected to my naive teenage self. Now that my perspective has changed, will I still connect to my audience?

(Video after the jump)

This past year has been a big year for personal growth. Most notably, I became a developer and I've been in love with the job ever since. We started a new project at work the other day and it's made me realize something-- some of us need to be making things all the time to feel grounded. I didn't fully grasp how integral creativity was to my life until last year, when I started devoting the majority of my time building and finessing websites and apps. I no longer feel lost; I feel satisfied.

I'm really lucky to have found this career path. It's not only given me stability, but I have a renewed excitement to make art. I no longer feel like I need to take on a new persona to fit into a career that doesn't allow me to be me. I started writing again; the last time I wrote a song was 3 years ago. I feel the most like me these past couple of days than I've felt these past few years. I can't wait to have enough material to record and share with you all.

Anyways, have you heard of The Staves? Because I'm obsessed (links to listen after the jump...).

One of the things that fuels my excitement to make music again is the opportunity to inspire another artist's work. Like I said in previous posts, I've filled my music hiatus with dance. I don't think I fully realized the influence music can have until I became brave enough to choreograph and freestyle. Each word, each chord progression affects the choreographer's thought process and the dancer's performance.

Does teenage angst ever go away? Does "hipster" taste ever dull? Even at 25, I find myself looking for bands no one has ever heard of to have that satisfyingly smug feeling of they were my band, first. Why is that feeling so addictive?

This past summer I found Jank, thanks to my brother. Jank encompasses all of the pouty, miserable hormones I had as a teenager. Now at 25, with a 9-5 and closet full of chinos and blouses, it feels good to tap back into those feelings.

(Music inside)

I've accomplished a lot in the past 5 years. From a musical perspective, I got my music on a national tv show; I played every major venue in Cleveland, and was an opening act for some of my favorite musicians; I built up a small (about 3,000) following of fans online. From a personal perspective, I completed a master's degree in a year;  I changed career paths and nearly doubled my salary in 6 months.

I accomplished these goals with sheer stubbornness and hard work. I knew what I wanted and went after it.

Have you ever experienced that feeling when doing something creative where it's on the tip of your tongue, but you can't express it? It's just sitting there in your head and it won't come out? I've felt like that for, like, two years now. It's the weirdest form of writer's block I've experienced.

Writing music as a teenager felt unbelievably easy for me. I was a hopeless romantic, teenybopper who knew a few chord progressions. At 25, I want something more complicated, more polished. I've put bigger expectations on what I present to the world than when I was a teenager.

With 2018 in full bloom, I've been feeling pretty introspective and optimistic... How original. But I've been thinking about how this all began, and where I am now. Music has taken the backseat for the past few years. My acoustic guitar is literally sitting in a closet.

I've been busy, sure. But there was always more to it. Music lost its purpose. What was once a form of expression turned into money and left me wondering, Is this all there is?

There's a feeling out there as a musician, a dancer, a writer that if you are not dedicating your entire life to your art you are not an artist. From 20 to 23, I wanted people to see me as "a real musician." I felt extreme pressure (from myself? From the music community?) to figure out a way to make music a full-time job. I started putting in a lot of effort. Within 3 months, my Facebook fanbase grew from 600-800 to 3,000 people. Within 6 months, my music was featured on national TV. I was offered an exclusive audition with producers of The Voice.

And then I disappeared.