What I have and haven't learned about creating music

Greetings! I haven't posted a blog entry here in several years because of using so much of my time in either productive or highly unproductive ways.

Yep, I've done both, and they both take time to do.

In this post, I will share some of the things I've learned about music-making, and sort things out by what has and hasn't seemed productive or a good use of my time. One of the first things to do is explain what I mean when I use these terms: productive and unproductive. They both refer to what reward I'm seeking in my activities. I need to put these definitions near the top of my current writing because my goals might not be like yours, but deciding what is or isn't productive for me (or for you) is very much the same process. It's a matter of knowing one's own values and priorities, and steering one's efforts in a value/priority-based way

In all things creative, I'd admit that I don't really have a work ethic. I do my things and devote my time, energy, and attention to doing my things, but I call my commitment to my creative activities a play ethic rather than a work ethic. My commitment is to have fun with it, to enjoy it, to let it give me an enjoyable experience that raises my spirits.

I love most kinds of art and feel an attraction/resonance from any type of art that "speaks" to me, so I have left myself open to any and all artistic activities. It's like all the arts are valued family members in the home of my heart, and I choose to love all of them without letting on that any one of them is my favorite.

But secretly, I love music the best. Music has always been a good friend to me; there for me when I need it, to pick me up when I'm down, to get me going when I feel stalled or stuck, or to playfully keep me going if I'm already in a going mood. Music has shaped my internal life in a way that makes me love people more, because of so strongly feeling the kindness in knowing that someone made the music and shared it, and once someone has done such a kind thing for me, I can no longer think of that person in any unkind way.

Please don't tell sculpture, photography, comedy, drama, painting, or dance that I have a favorite. All of these arts and the artists who do them deserve love. None deserves to think of itself as a second choice.


But music is my favorite, and I've always known that it is.

Such is life. One can have lots of unfocused love in one's heart, and it can seem boundless, as though there really is enough love there to embrace every lovable person and thing in the entire world.

But realistically, when it comes to matters of how to use one's time, there's only so much any one person can do. Maybe big, unfocused, ready-for-anything love is a good thing to have in my heart, but the nuts-and-bolts reality of daily life is in choosing what actions to take in any given moment. Spiritually, I can love the whole world. Physically, I can attend to one thing at a time.

I don't really like multitasking. It divides my attention. Most of the time, I can choose between doing one thing well by focusing on that one thing, or I can do several things in an unfocused and probably mediocre way.

This should be a shocking thing to hear from a drummer. Drummers are known for playing several drums or percussion instruments at the same time. But that's not multitasking. It might be several instruments at the same time, but it's one beat/ one rhythmic expression/ one groove.

Kind of. Humans have partitioned brains. We can all do one conscious thing and one (maybe more) instictive/ intuitive/ subconscious thing at the same time. Actions engrained through practice or repetition become instictive and somewhat below the level of conscious thought. If you play an instrument and tap your foot at the same time, the foot-tapping is done instictively just by feeling the beat. That's the kind of attention-breakdown most drummers use to play a steady beat with one hand or foot while doing more something different and more complicated with another hand(s) or foot(s). Rather than a multitasking chore, a drummer plays one rhythm at a time. Even if it's a polyrhythm, the drummer thinks of the different parts as parts of the same rhythm, and can play one of the elements instictively without much conscious thought.

Yep, drummers are human. I mean human drummers are human. Drum machines aren't humans. No player hate if you're a drum machine user; it's just that as a drummer and a human, I prefer to have human drummers playing the rhythms. It's a feelings thing.

It's also because of my strong feeling that making art of any kind is a deeply human activity. Art might seem to be about how something looks or sounds, but it's really about how that sight or sound feels. To any human there's a huge difference between--say--filing a tax return and singing a song. To a machine, both of those things are approximately the same: a task to do.

So artists--even artists who are highly motivatd to be successful--reserve a special place in their lives and in their hearts for their art.

Now, how do I balance the equation? If art exists in an ideal world, with rules and goals of its own, how does art ever come to be in this other, more everyday world where there are bills to pay and only so many hours in a day, and only so many productive years in a lifetime? How does one support all the time of practicing to develop skill at a craft that might never earn finincial rewards? Can we only call a musician successful if they make a lot of money while making music?

Because I haven't made much money as a musician, but I've had great musical experiences. Financially I'm not doing that well, but I'm rich in experiences.

I think the real answer is that, in addition to doing what pays the bills, artists do what enriches the spirit. Musicians play. Sometimes the playing is a performance, sometimes it's a jam with friends, sometimes it's practice at home alone, sometimes it's taking classes, sometimes it's teaching classes .

But a musician plays music pretty much every day, gig or no gig, jam or no jam, class or no class.

Musicians play because it's part of who they are.

I let this blog post sit unfinished for several years, unsure of what I really wanted to say with it, but I made music most days during those years

The solution to the equation of how to succeed in life is a combination of two things: Do what you love, and make doing what you love sustainable.