The Shy Singer/Songwriter: April 2020

I find it immensely interesting that as I wander through my seemingly unfocused and unproductive life, I am learning all the time. This week I discovered I actually like music theory. Oops.

Did you fall down? Pick yourself back up while I explain! It's not all that exciting to me to know that a Bb on the treble clef means we're in the key of F. But what is interesting to me is how we use intervals and chord modulations to achieve emotion and nuance in what we write. Play a C chord (C, E, G), nothing wrong with that. Try it as a C11 (C, E, G, B, D, F) and what delicious texture is created. Resolve that to a C9 ((G) C, E, Bb, D)... oh, lovely.

Also through watching feedback sessions and speaking with a composer mentor, I started to think about my identity as a composer. My old 'elevator pitch' seems out of date and doesn't really say much about me ("Vikki Flawith: Fresh, innovative instrumental cues for film & television. Horror/Creepy, Quirky/Light, Drama/Tension, Investigative/Science, Orchestral Hybrid."). One could argue the word 'innovative', while hopefully true, is a bit much. Thus I started mulling over a change.

It occurred to me in my work as a singing teacher I developed 'the shy singer' as a way of reaching out to those who have had similar experience but wish to walk a path towards finding and releasing their voices.

I asked myself what I could say about myself as a composer that would do the same.

I'm not much for hard sell, or marketing speak - those newsletters and websites which you have to scroll down and down while they tell you what they are giving you for $90 is a $900 value and this unique gift is free to you when you sign up, ad infinitum, until finally at the very end of all that junk they finally say it costs an incredible ... wait, this is a one time offer buy now before it goes back to the regular price... oh yes for you right now if you buy in the next 10 minutes it's only $1,049.99 for the book, course, special items and free gifts or three easy payments of $399 each month!!! - oh, yeah... drive me crazy.

(In fact once I had a discussion with someone who insisted I should not put my prices on my website, make people call and find out. Nope. Never. Don't play games. Here's who I am, what I do, how much it costs.)

Back to the elevator pitch. It's important to present yourself clearly. Say who you are, what you know, and what you have to offer as concisely as possible.

Of course, for a composer or other creative, what you produce demonstrates your abilities. But really it's who you are as a person that will matter most to those who are thinking about working with you. Do you come across as someone they'd like to have lunch with? Easy, respectful, professional, real?

Am I reinventing myself? Not really. I've just somehow, in the past few days, established a clearer sense of who I am as a creator of music and who I'd like to collaborate with on what kind of projects. I didn't know that before now. Maybe all these courses and webinars and mentoring sessions are making a difference. Having that clarity helps paint the path ahead.

If I get invited to lunch, I hope there's cake. ~

The past five weeks have been scattered, filled with insomnia, a feeling that I am wading through quicksand and achieving very little. I haven't been shy about talking about this struggle with middle insomnia. Did I say talking? Maybe I meant whining. Good friends tried to give supportive advice, I listened but somehow nothing seemed to work. But yesterday and today something clicked.

These words came to me from trusted sources... maybe I don't think I feel stressed, maybe I feel I am coping with the sweeping global affect of a dreadful disease... but maybe when I lie down, that suppressed anxiety about this state of affairs gains traction, even if it doesn't appear to be present in a conscious fashion. There's immense sadness and grief over the loss of life; there's worry about friends and family and tribe members; there's a deep concern for the differently-abled, the elderly and the other vulnerable human beings whose right to life can be and is being profoundly impacted by the decisions made by overwhelmed health care providers; there's worry about the cost of groceries, savings disappearing, downturn in income... gah. No wonder sleep takes a holiday.

I'm also very aware of the potential to self-sabotage. Don't get enough sleep, feel exhausted, achieve very little, beat oneself up for not being productive, wave the getting-longer-every-day to-do list at my head until all I want to do is go numb and binge-watch Restaurant Impossible.

But you know what? I'm tremendously lucky. I have terrific friends and wonderful mentors. People who are making specific time to talk to me and maintain that vital connection between creative spirits and musical hearts. My conversations today in particular have been so helpful. I finally sorted out my schedule - the demise of which had haunted me for the past five weeks of 'lock-down'. My Zoom chats, my live streams, my composing time, my mentoring time, my client sessions, my time to update social media, all sorted and appointments set with myself for these activities as well as self-care.

And it's not all written in stone and inflexible. A block of time called 'composing' could be the act of creating music, or it could be working through a module in one of my orchestration, film scoring, or film trailer writing courses. It could be writing lyrics or writing melody or practicing the guitar or piano.

I sang my usual live stream yesterday for an hour and I noticed that I felt more tired than usual later in the day. Ah. I decided that, besides taking a walk every day, I need to sing every day because that act is a form of physical exercise too. It's breathing and vibrating with sound. So now I am going to make sure that on days when I am not performing, I still sing.

I did that tonight, and it reminded me of being fourteen and sitting on the edge of my bed with my guitar, singing covers and originals. How that calmed me and gave me solace in the face of a world that was full of bullying. It also reminded me that on the days of my voice lessons (which often lasted 90 minutes or two hours), I would feel quite pleasantly tired and have no problem sleeping. Opera takes a lot out of you!

I feel better now. I'm a very creative person and I dislike routine, because it's boring. Yet at the same time, having a structure helps focus my energy and helps me actually accomplish things, which helps subdue the sharp voice in my head that delights in telling me I'm not doing enough, that I'll never be good enough, who am I kidding, and I'm a fake.

That voice dances around with glee, rubbing its hands with exaltation when I listen to it and allow it to imprison me in stagnant procrastination. I know the only antidote is to do something. Even if it's imperfect, or a struggle. It's only by taking action that inaction can be thwarted. ~