In my laundry room, on a wall above the chest freezer, is a "vintage inspired" print. It's bold with an orange butterfly dominating the 3 ft. by 3 ft area, and huge metallic letters that say, "Follow Your Dreams." At the time I bought it, we had moved from CA to TN to do just that. Back then, my dreams seemed crisp and defined - with each segment on my road to success clearly spelled out. Segment 1 - move - check. Segment 2 - finish degree - check, check. Segment 3 - make appropriate connections and take the music business by storm...uh, hmmm. Segment 4 - complete a breathtakingly perfect demo of my "A list" songs that will, of course, ultimately earn me a grammy for songwriter of the year...uh oh.
The butterfly taunts me every time I mundanely do laundry or dig a frozen pizza out for dinner (don't judge, it happens sometimes). I remember when I first bought the print - still flushed with adrenalin and reeling with disbelief that we had actually moved all the way out here. It glistened at me from the wall at Pier One, and I bought it. It was my muse, the summation of what we were doing, and the mantra I quoted with giddy enthusiasm when people marveled at our bravery. So how, in three years, did it go from a place of honor over my piano, to the wall space over the freezer, next to the detergent?
We are a culture who values the maverick, that dashing daredevil who takes mad risks - we love to watch their shows and cheer them on while sitting on the couch eating microwave popcorn. We are bombarded with flickering images of what we should be "dreaming of," and we work ourselves to death chasing it.
I've chased this dream of being a hit songwriter through one of the top music publishing companies in the world, and one of the biggest artist management firms in Nashville. But I'm discovering the marriage of the music business with my creative process, feels a lot like putting a heavy harness on a riding pony, and asking it to plow the back forty. Its being crushed.
I suppose learning you don't love the music business is a good lesson. But when it's the butterfly you've chased 2500 miles, only to discover it's not what you want - - it's hard to know what to chase next. But thousands of years ago, a shepherd carried a harp so he could write songs as he tended his flock. Inarguably, the book of Psalms is the all time #1 collection of hits. No business, no pressure, no guts or glory, just honest vulnerability, and a heart completely dedicated to God.
So I guess I'm grateful for this maddening butterfly chase that has brought me to where I am. I've become more refined and emptier of false illusions and wrong motivations. I don't know anymore what I'm supposed to "do" with my songwriting. I will always write songs, because I love to - and maybe that's actually the point. But no longer does a plastic coated canvas with a mass produced slogan, and a kite sized fake butterfly define how I feel about my life. It's not that simple. Following a dream implies you're asleep, maybe even sleepwalking? I think I'm awake now, and waiting for what's next. Perhaps in the quiet it will softly fly in an open window, land small and fragile on my hand, and slowly fan its powdery wings in the glistening sun. Real.
The music industry rarely rewards quality or ability. When someone studies philosophy or sculpture, the prospects for making a living are small, unless one wishes to teach those things. Artists become artists because they could never be happy doing anything else but that doesn't mean they are great at it or will be financially successful. When art becomes dependent on commercial sales, it becomes a contradiction. Good art shouldn't be held to the standard of what is cliche' enough to appeal to the masses. The vast majority of songwriters create emotionally inspired but very ordinary and cliche sounding material whose only hope to sell is if they get someone with industry power to market and sell it. Refer to that famous Hunter S Thompson quote on the music industry.
ReplyDeleteI love that quote...and feel compelled to write a song about it :)
DeleteThere are rules in every industry--even the Christian music industry is guarded by the "green stuff". Soldier on!! You will get there!! But stay open!! Blessings.
ReplyDeleteYou are so right about the invasion of green - I've already dabbled in the fringes of the "Christian" music industry and found it nauseating. I'm just going to create whatever I create and let others define it for themselves :)
DeleteGood thing you didn't get that as a tattoo!
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