Reverberations, Revelations, and Revolutions in Art and Life (thoughts + music)
I'm grateful for the work I've had this summer. It's been fulfilling, and it's been pretty damn fun. That said, I think as we move toward fall, that I want to put my effort into endeavors that perhaps do not involve me trying to impress a market that has never been interested in what I'm doing. I'm tired of professionally pouring into what doesn't serve me. Maybe that's selfish, but life is really short, and the idea that we're all dying all the time is really very present in my mind.
...thankfully, I'm back in a decent headspace and things are feeling more hopeful than morose. I have some days I wake up and think damn, girl, you are evolved, but then I have others where I wake up and think I'm just an idiot. So, it is what it is. The point is that I am feeling better. I have things on my horizon that bring me more anticipation than any other endeavor of my life: in every possible area. I am ready to only pour into what is also pouring into me. I've spent way too long trying to convince people in my market to like me, because time is fleeting and it's just not worth my time or effort.
I say to Springfield, "It's not me, it's you."
In many ways, I think I'm saying goodbye to this place (SpringVegas, Misery) and what I thought I wanted from here. In many ways, too, I'm realizing I'm already over it.
This summer has been profound, y'all, and it's not even over.
this summer has been cray
As I am one to do, on only a couple of very manic days, I decided to book a couple of shows for the summer--which, to my chagrin, I went about this all wrong. I booked too many, honestly. I'd hoped I'd feel the same kind of spark I felt when I first started this years ago, and I mean, the shows have been fine. I feel like I can talk about this freely here because the people who know me who read this don't care, and the rest of you aren't in this market, but ugh. I do not and have not ever lived in my market. I don't know what my market is, but I know it's not in Missouri. I've been here, poking around for it, for 20 professional years, and before that, if you also consider finding a scene in which you actually fit finding your market, well, I've been doing that for almost double those years.
It's also been a summer of finding myself, again, and for the first time. This had been happening since our beloved cat Memphis passed away at the tail end of 2021: I knew a change was in the air. Things have been different, and they are very different now.
Since before the pandemic, I've been pretty much existing at my house. When people started reemerging, I was ready and unafraid on a viral level, but the anxiety and the social elements of being in public have been really awful. I work on my creative endeavors at home for the most part: one day a week I clean an office and laboratory, and on another day I ride my bike to hang out with my friend and talk about history and politics. I like to nest, and once I nest, I do not like to leave that nest.
I am a bit different than I was before the pandemic in that regard. It has had an impact on the way I view my relationship with the stage, and as a member of the crowd when I attend shows. I mean, I still love being on stage (do not love the effort it takes to try to love actually being up front as much as I used to), but being in the crowd is really tough for me. So claustrophobic. I'm trying: going to a few concerts here and there, and I've been to the mall a few times, too (and I feel really proud of myself, too, if you can't tell thankyouverymuch).
That said, the farmers market freaked me out a few weeks ago: we made it through the entire thing and when I turned around to check what I wanted to go back and buy before we left, I had a huge swath of anxiety wash over me--felt completely nauseated and lost the color in my face--and I needed to leave, so we did. That shit is embarrassing. It feels weak, so I'm still out there, pushing myself into uncomfortable crowds because I've always tried to push against my anxiety's desire to be debilitating.
As long as I can feel in it, but not of it, I'm okay. Perspective, kids.
the soundtrack of the summer
Kicked off the summer by having an incredible opportunity to play original music on our regional NPR Station here in Southwest Missouri, with my band, The Ozark Songbirds (really need to make a post about these ladies--mental note, here). It was a whirlwind of an experience.
This was the first time I'd ever played live on the radio, in a real radio studio, which was an experience I'll never forget. I don't imagine this will be the last time I play on the radio, but as my first (and how those things go), I'll always remember it. Something I really loved about the experience was that it was an entire hour set, so I had the chance to actually get in the groove and chill out--aware and present of the moment I was privileged to be in--and that kind of gratitude and awareness is literally keeping me alive, just because it's hard to get lowlowlowlowlowlow when one is intentionally staying actively grateful. I'm by no means perfect, but this practice of active gratitude has been revolutionary to my life since I became fully California Sober in Fall 2019.
Our radio gig was coupled with a 2-hour "Social Hour" feature set at Tie & Timber, a local brewery here in town. I've played here multiple times both in solo and band projects, and it's one of my home venues. The owners, Jen and Curtis, always make me feel so creatively free when I play there, and honestly, that's one of the main things I'm looking for when I pick up gigs like this. Anyway, it was a really good time.
We also played a fun show at another local venue, Springfield Brewing Company's The Cellar, which is--on the surface--just a live music venue and bar...but it's really so much more than that. It's a whole artist collective being born over there, and I was really surprised at what's going on over there. Super artist-forward, and everyone from the folks in the kitchen, to the bar, to the sound techs, to the patrons--everyone is just really supportive of art. I was super stoked to walk in and original paintings from one of my buddies, Garrett Melby, on prominent display all over the joint. Very cool, y'all.
Also, had an impromptu, non-rehearsed couple-of-songs jam time playing music with my friend and fellow Songbird, Betsey Mae, as I loaned my guitar-pickin to the first couple of songs of her set with The Breakfast Sides. This jam was not at all planned, but those can sometimes be the most fun. This particular performance really made me see how much I'd missed the stage in some capacity, but once I found myself back up there, "just like old times," I have realized it's all different for me now. There's no "just like old times" anymore.
I have optimism out the ass.
I want to play guitar and write songs it because I want to. Playing it on the stage like I used to isn't bringing me the same joy it used to, and at least for this upcoming season, I want to put my efforts into growing my creative businesses and the creative businesses of those whom I love. I want to be a necessary leg of a creative team. I want to pour into the people who are pouring into me, and I want to do things every day that truly inspire me, with the people who truly inspire me.
...and since we're all dying, and I don't see the point in waiting. I also don't understand why I wouldn't try to take a true stab at some of these big dreams. Find freedom. Change the world. Big stuff.
I was listlessly scrolling Instagram this morning and I saw a quote that said something like: I don't want to escape this world without a broken heart. I want to love so hard that when my heart shatters they've gotta have seven heavens to pick up all the fragments. Y'all, if I'm nothing else, I am this. I want to make big moves for love and for passion and for art and for beauty. I am not afraid to dig in and get messy and do the hard work, emotionally and physically, to make those things happen...and these dreams are really big.
In summary, I believe this summer is a signal of the ending of a number of things and a new birth of many others. I've realized this as it's happening, and I am excited to embrace this new future.
Rylan, you should try to get some sun
You remind me of everyone
Rylan, did you break your mother's heart?
Every time you tried to play your part
Is it easy to keep so quiet?
Everybody loves a quiet child
Is it easy to seem so grand
If you wanna be alone in life
Rylan, we can take the quick way out
We can turn blank-white in a blank-white house
Say that you're a pervert, you're a vulture
Don't you wanna be popular culture?Music and Lyrics by The National
So good
Thank you so much! :)
#capturingmomentssince2002
So. Many. Moments.
Honestly, thinking about all of the moments you guys have captured for us over the years makes me want to cry, @jasonrussell. I get all emotional about it. You guys have really given us a gift. And, for someone like me who has massive swaths of memory lapse throughout these years, these photos, in some cases, serve as a stand-in for the memories I do not have anymore.
Not every group of friends is fortunate enough to have professional photogs chronicling our times together, but that's not even close to the only way our group from home is fortunate or different.
Thanks for always being really annoying with your damn camera.
Also...and way more than for the photos, thanks for always being my friend.
Daweeee