A few vignettes.
I’ve been really exhausted lately. Not physically exhausted, though. Intellectually.
When we first got back from the honeymoon I was in my super-aggressive “What would Madonna do?” phase. Working fiercely, hitting open mics, having rehearsals, et cetera.
I still have the physical energy to do all of that, but I’m the past few weeks I’m lacking for the mindful fire. Not working on new songs, or writing blogs (clearly). Just working hard, eating, watching movies, and listening to music.
I know I was doing it because I was just a bit burnt out, but that’s sort of the point of the WWMD plan: there is not burnt out – only burning up. I have to be on fire constantly.
So, here I am cultivating the embers, and I get to this super-introspective place. Like, wow, there are people whose life this is. They work, eat, and sleep. Maybe they like watching movies, eating out, playing video games, or playing sports, but the w/e/s cycle is the point of them.
No output. No creativity. Just cycle and recycle.
Is that why people make up religion and children? Because they haven’t found anything better to do than watch basketball games?
I’m not asking to judge, I’m just trying to understand myself a little bit better. I’m all for having a loving god and a happy family, but I want to leave behind something more tangible than a bloodline and a fossil record.
On the other hand, how many years can you be burning up before you are permanently burnt out?
Elise and I are in the process of starting our own little freelance duo.
Our first client is Joshua Popejoy, an LP Artist who is regular at the LP open mic. We made for a great fit, because Joshua didn’t have much in the way of press material (which boggled me, as he’s one of the more radio-ready artists out of the seemingly never-ending stream of local acts) and we didn’t have much in the way of a portfolio (silly, since we both do this sort of stuff professionally).
We started building some basic materials for Joshua, with an eye towards a 3/1 deadline so he could apply for some upcoming festival gigs, including MusikFest in Bethlehem, PA. I created a marketing plan and wrote his bio and press kit materials while Elise started on a website.
We heard on Wednesday that Joshua got picked to play the main stage at MusikFest.
I know he mostly got picked because he plays awesome, listenable, mainstream music. But, if even 1% of why he got picked was because I wrote a bio that makes you feel that music before it gets heard, then I did my job well.
In March we bought a car.
It’s the most expensive thing I’ve ever bought, and the first thing I’ve legally owned with Elise.
It’s pretty and exactly what we wanted and I still don’t know how I feel about it. I’m finally excited to be able to drive, so I can do all the things I always want to do but can’t quite get to. On the other hand, everything feels farther away now. “Sure, I could get there on public transit in an hour, but you could drive me there in twenty minutes.”
As things get closer they start to feel farther away?
I’ve been spending a lot of time on FaceBook and Twitter for some work and LP purposes
I’m typically resistant to pushing any original content through anywhere other than CK, because Ck is supposed to be the source. But I get a little chink in my armor for status updates. Like, hmm, its just 140 characters. What’s the worst that can happen?
It’s interesting how I don’t see 140 characters of my life as something blog-worthy. In my first month plenty of posts were just simple, single streams of thought. That’s what blogging was.
Now blogging is about hot links and meaningful, carefully proofread essays, and if you want minute-by-minute coverage you spend all day tweeting.
I’m really struggling to define that divide. I like the tiny status pings of a day gone by – it lets my know something actually happened in my life. But, do I want to give that all away to FaceBook or Twitter, where I’ll never really own it as my own?
On the other hand, do I really want to go back to all that tiny crap flooding across the CK main page?
I’m not sure. This digital world is so different than the one I originally found myself a part of in 2000. The thing that hasn’t changed is that I want to keep myself collected, so that in another nine years I can still witness all that went by.
It’s been an interesting two months of married life. I’m more ambitious and inspired than ever, but I also feel suddenly so mainstream.
It’s a volatile concoction. If I let the two sides bleed into one another too much I wind up like the new Kelly Clarkson record – shiny and pleasing, but likely to be memorable only for being popular.
I have to stop obsessing about formulas and just be daring. I keep forgetting that I’ve always thought art is in the imperfections.