Tending your dream

Easter weekend included a visit with my sisters, K and S, for lunch. Figured it would be the usual kind of visit, where we chat a little bit about what we’re doing, laugh a little about the past, talk a little about what’s coming up. An ordinary long weekend lunch.

I’d planned on asking K for advice or ideas about how to write a book proposal. Before I could even get to that topic, she informed us that she’d had a book proposal accepted by a publisher and was now supposed to be writing the book. After many congratulations, she confessed she was having some difficulty keeping to a regular writing schedule, and she was concerned she was getting behind with the project.

I talked about how I’d set myself up a writing schedule a couple of weeks ago but, when that appointment-with-myself time came up, there was always something else – a trip to the dentist, laundry, groceries, etc.

It’s so much easier to talk about our dreams and goals, than to do the actual work of achieving them. I think that’s a pretty normal state of affairs. But the problem with it is that one day we’ll wake up and be a year older, and realize we didn’t do much, and have little to show for the time. Perhaps the publishing deal disappears, or perhaps our goal of writing and pitching a book went on to the back burner and stayed there. Perhaps we never took the art classes, or called the guitar teacher, or saved the money for the trip to Italy.

The only resolution I can see for this is to set goals, and work towards them in bite-sized chunks.

Yet the other issue is overwhelm. There are so many things we have to do, it seems. There are so many calls on our time. We feel stretched thin, tired, scattered, even anxious about all we have to do. When we are in this frame of mind, adding more stuff to do just feels oppressive. We know we can’t possibly do it all. It feels impossible. We may give in to hopelessness and crash in front of the tv instead.

That’s a real problem. It’s not just managing time, it’s managing the complex tasks and responsibilities we shoulder while still getting some quality of life. And it’s managing the day to day unexpected happenings that require energy and attention as well.

Enter the to-do lists and schedules, lol. I’m looking up to the left of my computer screen, where I have my to-do lists, separated into projects, pinned to a bulletin board. Right beside my keyboard on the left is my monthly schedule. I make it up in Word. I update it weekly, and I’ve got sessions, rehearsals and gigs set up on it for about the next 6 weeks. I estimate I probably spend about 2 to 3 hours a week just scheduling everything. Like planning my budget, it’s become a necessary part of managing my life.

Sometimes, when I look at the 6 or 8 weeks I have blocked out with all the things on it… I feel the weight of all that ‘to-doing’.

In March I made a list of all the things that I typically have to do on a daily, weekly and monthly basis, and figured out when I would do them. I tried to budget my time the way I budget my money.

I had decided at the beginning of the year that I would no longer work Saturdays in the studio. I’d worked 6 days a week most of last year, and only having one day off didn’t make me happy. As much as I love what I do, the time between the last session on Saturday and the first session on Monday seemed terribly short. If I had a meeting or a family get together on the Sunday… I hit Monday morning feeling like I never got a break. My spirits rose at the thought of having two days off in a row. Yet, at the same time, I knew my budget and debt repayment plan would suffer.

I figured, that would okay – if I used that time effectively, either to get caught up on the things that always seem to be on the back burner; and/or used that time to be creative. I planned long walks & photo-taking expeditions on some Saturday mornings, perhaps alternating with a bi-weekly morning of painting.

But here we were, my sisters and I, on a weekend in April. And I had done exactly '0' paintings, and had only done one photo-taking walk since the beginning of the year.

We came up with a plan. What if we set aside Wednesday mornings and Saturday mornings to write or to paint (S holds down a full-time job and is also a painter). If K, who runs her own business, could take 2 hours off Wednesday morning to write… and add 30 minutes to the other days of the week, she’d work the same amount of hours. I’d already set aside some time on Wednesdays to write, but other things had intruded.

In addition, we decided we would report to each other. So every Wednesday and every Saturday, we would send an email to our sisters, saying what we’d accomplished that morning.

I left K’s feeling inspired. The lunch with my sisters helped me to refine my approach. Simply put, I reorganized my organization.

The important thing now is to keep those appointments with myself. No dilly dallying, wasting time fiddling with other things. My appointment with myself has to be just as important as an appointment with a student or client.

So far, S finished one painting and started another; K did some research; and I wrote my blogs and worked on the draft of my book proposal.

It does seem like the height of rigidity to set aside time to be creative. But if I don’t get that time, I don’t feel lifted. If I don’t face the blank page and challenge myself to think of some words to put on it… I won’t accomplish anything at all.

talent doesn't just belong to the young

A few days after I posted my "what makes you think you can sing" blog, in which I pointed out that we are all made to sing, the world was getting excited about this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

keeping the commitment to change

In my blog of Monday March 16th, [ http://theshysinger-songwriter.blogspot.com/2009/03/past-runs-circles-around-future.html ] I talked about some personal issues I was aware of, but had not been able to change as I would like. As it's been a month, here is my report.

DISHES: Seems like such a silly thing, but when you work well into the evening, as I do, the logical result was consistently leaving kitchen clean-up til the morning. So I'd get up every morning, put the kettle on, and then have to do the dishes. But I would often feel a huge amount of reluctance to do them. Sometimes I'd give in to that reluctance, and the dishes would pile up all day while I felt bad for not doing them. I realized it was one of the ways my ego used to beat me up. So I came up with simple solution: do the dishes before you go to bed. I've kept to it pretty well. The once or twice when I've left them for the next day, I've regretted it; if I feel any reluctance to do them at night, I remind myself that I won't feel good in the morning if they aren't done. So now I take great delight in waking up to a clean kitchen, not only because it's clean, but because I've kept a commitment to myself.

SLEEP: This past weekend I was finally able to get to grips with this resolve, and make myself go to bed at a reasonable time. I had two great nights of sleep and felt all the better for it - more energetic, and more creative! Duh, huh?

ORGANIZING: This is where I have fallen down. This weekend I must do my books so I can do my taxes. I did call the junk removal firm and got a quote for how much it would cost to haul away some stuff I don't need and isn't in a condition to be given away. I started organizing some paperwork, but didn't complete the job yet.

what makes you think you can sing?

Talent – “A marked innate ability, as for artistic accomplishment.”

Really? And how does one know if one has ‘innate’ ability? Are we born being able to read? Are we born being able to write? If no one spoke a word to us, would we ever learn to talk? I don’t think so. Obviously most of us have the ability to learn to read, write and speak. So why do we tell ourselves that singers have to be ‘born with it’ as though it’s a skill that can’t be learned? It’s an easy way to avoid the artist process, that’s why.

Our society is so interesting. We follow actors on twitter, and flock to the movie theatres, we listen to radio, download stuff to our ipods, read blogs, catch every episode of Lost… enjoy watching the Grammy’s and the Oscars… we are great consumers of art. Yet most of us see the act of doing or producing art to be very much beyond us. Especially when it comes to singing.

I’ve had this discussion many times and the next thing that usually comes up is the example of dreadful singers on American Idol auditions. Yes, there are some that definitely sing as badly as possible to get on television. But there are others who clearly believe that they have a voice; they are stunned and often devastated to be told they are horrible singers who can’t carry a tune. What about those people? They can’t sing, can they?

Let’s put together these circumstances. You got up at 3 am to get down to the area to get in line. You’ve been out in the open air for hours. You are running low on sleep. You’ve been eating fast food and drinking pop. You’ve been talking to everyone in line around you. You’ve been screaming for the camera when it comes by. Then you get into the arena. There’s a lot of noise. You have to speak up to be heard. You try to maintain your level of excitement but you’re flagging. You get moved to another room. Your time in front of the judges is coming. This is the most important audition of your life. You keep chatting with everyone around you and yelling for joy when someone gets a gold ticket. Finally it’s your turn. The camera is now on you. They interview you a bit. They film you going into the audition. Now you get to sing.

You’re tired. It’s been a very long day. You haven’t had enough sleep. But it’s your moment. Everything is riding on the next two minutes. You have to do well. You have to win over those four people, including the sardonic Simon Cowell. But you’re vocally exhausted from talking and yelling. You say something stupid and grimace to yourself. You announce the name of your song and you begin to sing it. Your throat is tight and dry. Simon’s eyes are on you. He doesn’t look impressed. You can barely breathe, knowing this performance might be broadcast to millions of people. But it’s your dream, to be a singer. They vote, they say no. Simon says you shouldn’t give up your day job. You leave in tears.

Is that a fair test of ability? It’s really just an endurance test. The sensible ones don’t talk at all. Maybe even get someone else to stand in for them while they go rest and warm-up in the hotel room. The sensible ones eat healthy food and stay hydrated. The sensible ones have been working on singing for at least a year or more, with a good voice teacher, and/or in a choir or other group. The sensible ones also play an instrument and perhaps even have worked on songwriting. The sensible ones get some experience performing and recording before facing the challenge of competition.

It’s very easy to have a dream. But the real truth is that people who make it in any walk of life usually have to work at it, for a very long time. Singing scales, every day. Working with a vocal coach, every week. Taking dance classes so they can stand tall and move with grace. Singing at open mics and coffee houses and birthday parties – anywhere they can get experience.

Let’s find another example. A 7-year old child, whose brain is still developing, who can barely read, is asked to sing with the rest of the class. She sings loudly off key. In this instance, the repeated act of singing in a group will eventually lead to the brain to develop the complex mathematical skill of matching pitches. But instead of allowing the experience of singing in a group, over time, to be integrated so that the child sings correctly with the rest of the class… that child is asked to stand in front of the group and made to sing alone. They are told in front of the group that they can’t sing. They are told they must sit out of the class, or that they can still be in the group but must only mouth the words. That one embarrasing experience puts an end to any musical aspirations they have. They avoid singing for the rest of their lives. Or at least until they are in their 40s and the desire to be in the music brings them to my studio. Can they be helped?

Yes, I believe that anyone who can talk can also sing. If they are willing to do the work. Even if they sing off-key to start. I know because I work with tone deaf singers and every single one of them has learned to sing on pitch. The key is process. The key is consistently thinking about and working on the art form. The key is understanding the instrument and becoming aware of the subtle ways we think about ourselves that interfere in the natural activity of singing. The innate ability to sing is within each of us. Simply put, everyone can sing because – unless there is a physiological challenge - we were made to sing.

Does that mean we each have what it takes to be a professional singer? Maybe. No one can decide that for you. Only you. Only you can get up every day and work with your instrument, use it to express something in a unique and interesting way. Only you can want to be aware of habits that inhibit you and then want to work for as long as it takes to change them. Only you can dedicate the days and weeks and months and years to the act of something that gives you joy and lights you up inside.

Personally, I believe that if you do that work, you will find a way to live your dream. It may not be as a winner of American Idol. If you are open to the process and follow your path, you could end up doing things that were so far outside the possibilities that you never even thought of them at all. Like singing a season with a professional opera company. Like becoming a voice teacher. Like learning how to write and produce music for film & television. And then writing about those experiences in a blog.

~ no ideas today

I’ve been trying to write this blog for two days. Well, mostly thinking about writing this blog… but at a loss for ideas. I go through that occasionally with everything. Ideas for songs, instrumentals, blogs and paintings seem to be as far away as the moon. I find myself reading books I like or watching DVDs of movies I enjoy. It’s funny cause if you were in the room with me, I wouldn’t find any difficulty talking to you about a whole host of things. It’s been stressful week, worried about family, worried about my friends with cancer, dealing with going to the dentist, counting my pennies and coming up short.

On the good side, I had three pieces of music forwarded (that means pitched directly by a trusted intermediary) to a film composer looking for long term relationships with skilled writers. On the other side, I ended up going to the doctor because I had a weird reaction to the dental anaesthetic that has never happened before. It’s slowly fading but my gawd. I did work on some music tracks this weekend – collabs with Chuck and Geoff, but more work to do on them both to get them into some sort of shape. Maybe I’m just trying too hard. The weather is improving, and Saturday night at dinner time I went to hear some friends play music at a local café, nice long walk there and back. Today I hung out and worked on music, watched some TV, chatted with my sister, researched some ideas for my book. That’s it. Maybe that's enough. Sometimes you just gotta be.

~ jousting at the to-do list

I was looking back at the novel manuscript I started when I did Nanowrimo a few years ago… it’s something I’ve written on from time to time. I’d forgotten I had some pages I’d written in 2007 and I was chuckling as I read them. I think to myself, ‘I should do something with that’… then I look at my plans for a non-fiction book, and an album, and to write & pitch music for film/tv, and the musical collaborations I’m supposed to be working on, and the students I have scheduled to teach… and I wonder if it isn’t too much for one human being to manage.

Especially when most of those things have an intrinsic value – meaning the doing of them has worth in and of itself – but those activities, at least at this moment, do nothing to help pay down the debts that haunt my cash flow or the bills that arrive at the door. I’ve budgeted myself for years, and have been working to pay down the debts… but then something always happens – like the dental work this month that’s going to cost $1,200, ha ha ha ha ha – that makes it impossible not to use credit. I have been paying things down, and I know I will pay off a couple of debts this year… but today it just feels like an immense burden to know I am paying so much now for the mismanagement of the past.

I have been working diligently on the to-do lists and trying to make headway on the things that dog my footsteps. I called the junk-hauling firm for a quote on how much it will cost to haul some old furniture and other stuff away. Not bad, maximum maybe $175 for a truck load. I’ve moved away from the ‘why can’t I clean up the kitchen in the morning so I’ll feel better all day’ dilemma by (surprise) doing the dishes before I go to bed. I worked out my budget for the month yesterday, and I started sorting receipts and paperwork in preparation for doing the books so I can do my taxes. I worked on a couple of collaborations but I wasn’t able to finish them as planned. I’m going to have to go over my Task List/Schedule and revise it with what I’ve been able to do – if I don’t do that soon, it will have no relevance and it will be just another thing collecting dust.

I am doing well on the ‘look after yourself’ front, by going to bed at a more reasonable hour, and I think the healthy eating that I’ve been focused on for the past few weeks is going to pay dividends in more energy in time. In fact, I feel a difference already.

So last week, I worked on producing a song written by Dean & Lucian, brainstormed & researched & drafted a sample of a collab with Geoff. I also have a collab with Chuck to record vocals for. I rehearsed with my friend Larrien for our gig last night, and I challenged myself to sing more originals for that gig, I think it went well. I was to begin work on the book outline on Wednesday, but I ended up going to town to get a harmonica rack and an additional mic stand for the gig, and lost my writing time.

This coming week I have to do the month end stuff like pay the rent & bills; have the dental work; work on those collaborations; start a couple of instrumental tracks & complete the recording of one of my songs. Also have to sort the music for the next gig & get that going. And write the blogs. And start painting that painting I have to start. I'm going to be interviewed by Debra Russell (Artists-Edge) later in the month, need to send her some background info.

I have no idea if it is at all interesting to read my to-do list, lol. Hang in and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Get out and walk. Stop and smell the roses. Keep breathing, and be aware of spring sprouting.

~ art is always a process

When I was a child, I drew and I painted (here's one of my early 'works'). I had a wonderful art teacher in high school. He taught me line drawing, taught me to appreciate poetry, and introduced me to "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". I was in hospital for several weeks when I was 17, I remember having a sketch book with me and drawing all the time. Where did that go? It seemed to disappear once I left school. I was told that art and music were hobbies, agreeable pastimes on days off, but that one needed to do something 'serious' to make a living.

Then, in 2002, I was working through 'The Artist's Way' with a girlfriend. I was out on an 'artist date' with myself, window shopping and poking in antique stores along Fort Street. I walked by this art supply store named 'Island Blue'. In the window was a set of watercolour paints like the ones we used to have in school. It was on sale.

I said to myself, "I've always wanted to do that!"

So I went in and bought the set, an extra brush, and some watercolour paper. I came home and set myself up in the kitchen, and just started to paint. I had no idea what I was doing, really, but I found myself drawn to it. Painting seemed to take me to a place I hadn't been before. It calmed me, helped me to focus my scattered mind, and expressed something within me, all at the same time.

I asked my sister (who had already been painting, had taken classes & workshops, won ribbons at shows & often sold her work) if she was interested in going to life drawing with me.

We went to our first drop-in session. I was scared and excited. As the class progressed and the poses changed, became longer, I found myself frustrated with the little sketch pad I'd brought with me. When I went back the next time, I brought a huge pad of construction-style paper (like you use for finger painting), and then I was happy as a clam. I liked "big". I liked letting my hand move with less constriction. Then I began to paint my life drawings, using those same watercolours.

I joined an group of female painters, again with my sister. Someone made the comment that the watercolours I was using were not permanent. That comment, unfortunately, made me stop painting. The group disbanded after a few months, but funnily enough, the watercolours I painted in 2002 and 2003 still are bright and unfaded with the passage of time.

Finally, I asked my sister about changing to acrylics. I managed to save up and bought a couple of canvases, a box of acrylic paints, a few brushes. I began to try out this new medium. I found I liked it. The colours were brighter, you could create texture, the canvas didn't fray if you painted over something - and you could paint over something. I continued to explore acrylics but went back to watercolours occasionally to paint birds. I sold all my original watercolours of birds, and sometimes the odd small acrylic. I didn't paint steadily though. I would have a flash of activity in the summer, and paint every day... and then it would die away in the fall.

Recently I joined another local painting group. I'm hoping that having the opportunity to meet other artists, to see their work, to workshop mediums, set goals, and have the opportunity to have my work in shows... will help me to stay motivated to paint.

At my first evening meeting with the group, we all said we'd begin working on an abstract to bring to the next monthly meeting, in April. I remembered that I have an abstract watercolour sketch. I'm thinking of basing an acrylic on it. I like how it flows. I bought a couple of 'portable easels' last summer so it's easy enough for me to set one of those up, pull out an empty canvas, dig out the paints, and start to work. At least it seems easy to think about, but there is always reluctance. I think that's a natural part of the creative process. The trick is, not to give into that resistance. The trick is, to remind myself it doesn't have to be 'good'. Experiment, follow the brush, see where it takes me.