Apr 302014
 

Everyone I talk to about doing artistic work raises the topic of needing more time in the day. “I’m so busy–how can I squeeze in my creative pursuits?” Here are some quick tips that may help.

1. Give Up Something

Choose a specific activity that you will give up to make time for your creative work. Maybe you don’t need to watch all 162 games of your favorite baseball team. Maybe you can give up that committee you’ve been volunteering on for nineteen years. It’s not that these are bad things, but sometimes you need to say no to other activities to make room for your creative work.

What you are telling yourself: “I am doing my work. My work matters as much as everything else in my busy life.”

2. Handle Distractions

The phone ringing, the kids doing kid stuff, noise from outside, your sore left knee. The dirty dishes and the dirty laundry and the plant by the window that needs watering. And there’s always something to look at on the Web. Immersing yourself in creative work will require you to block out the world for a while.

Then there are the distractions from within. “My boss was such a pain today.” “Maybe I’m no good at this writing thing.” Whatever thoughts arise that are not contributing to your work, let them float away down the stream of consciousness.

For most people, the earlier in the day you start your creative work, the fewer the distractions. If getting started early is available to you, give it a try.

What you are telling yourself: “It’s hard to do my work with such a busy life, but I am equal to these distractions.”

3. Create Every Day

Pick a time and place where you’ll work every day. Tell the other people in your house, “I’m writing each morning before I get ready for work.” Hang up a sign to remind you and others of your plan.

If you want to create in a fulfilling way, you need to put in the time and attention. There are no shortcuts. Getting to your work every day will help you move from dabbling to creating.

You may need a transition period if all you can manage are a few minutes per day. Even a little time and space each day is a good start. If you can begin to spend a little more thought and effort on creating, then you’re heading in the right direction.

What you are telling yourself: “My artistic work demands a great deal of time and brain power. So I will show up to work every day.”

4. Plan A Project

Let’s say you show up at your chosen time and place to do some writing, You will also need a concrete idea of what you will write. You will need a form and a goal. Think in terms of describing your current project to others. “I’m writing a short story, a dark suspense thing.” “I’m writing an article about the need for improvements to the parks and playgrounds in the south half of town.” “I’m working on the second draft of my novel.”

This goes for other types of work too. A musician practices honestly when she can state her aim for that session with her instrument. An artist works with focus when he knows what he is painting.

Treat “to create” as a transitive verb, always needing an object. What specifically are you working on?

What you are telling yourself: “I know what I am working on. I’m not just creating–I’m creating something.”

Moving On

When you put tips like these to use, you are sending a message to yourself and others that your work matters. Most of us have time in our hectic lives to get our creating done. See if you can use a few of these ideas to get more momentum behind your artistic work.

Sometimes life is just too busy, and there truly is no time to give to your creating. If that is your situation, be patient, and look for opportunities to simplify other parts of your life so you can get to your creative endeavors in the future.

Nov 082013
 

I like to think of creativity exercises as short-term tools. They’re not really solutions in themselves, but they can break habits, build habits, and help the heart and mind break away from malaise.

I’m talking about creativity exercises such as: think of a color, then write down ten objects that have the color. Then write a story plot using those objects. Or, take a musical phrase and play it in all twelve keys, then play it backwards in all twelve keys. Sure you could write a story or a piece of music this way, but usually the process is much more imaginative than that.

It reminds me of my religious life from many years ago. People would really get into the rules and procedures of prayer, but it seemed rare that anyone actually achieved a prayerful life. I might not have it right, and maybe folks were experiencing something far more substantial than what I saw. But it seemed to me that prayer was usually about certain physical acts, like closing eyes, bowing heads, folding hands or linking hands with others. It was about words, lots of tedious words, despite Jesus’ teaching on that subject. And Jesus also taught that praying in public places was a waste of time, yet folks seemed so into saying verbose prayers in public almost any chance they got.

Something similar goes on with musicians and writers. One of the hardest things for me when I’m teaching music lessons is to help a student simply relax and fall into playing music. There’s always lots of discussion about buying more instruements and accessories, even though the student already has too much stuff. It seems like the idea of playing music is more appealing than the actual experience of it. I think it seems like the work that goes into learning an instrument holds some kind of dread. It might go back to how nasty and boring our assignments were in school as kids. It might have to do with something similar with parents, with religious education and services, how we’re taught as kids to dread the stuff that everyone says is so important.

By the way, if you are reading this and you have taken lessons from me, please don’t think I’m describing you specifically. Almost all the music students I’ve had over the years have struggled to find happiness in making their music.

For writers, there are exercises and books about writing. There’s worry about writing. There are all kinds of classes and activities around writing, even finishing an MFA. All useful in some ways, but I think the best attitude is to see all that as short-term. Those are little tools to help get things started, but you’re not writing until you’re writing. Just write. Go ahead. If you don’t know what to write about, then wait. Take a walk. Don’t think about it, just wait. Don’t worry, you’ll get some ideas sooner or later.

I recently ran across a mention of Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt’s “Oblique Strategies” cards. I heard about them many years ago, and it’s a very cool idea. You pick a card, and it points you to some new direction for your current work. Here are some examples:

  • A line has two sides.
  • Do nothing for as long as possible.
  • Question the heroic approach
  • Ask people to work against their better judgement.

(This text came from http://www.rtqe.net/ObliqueStrategies/Edition1-3.html)

I’ve never actually owned a set of these cards, but the idea is enough for me. Just do something different, change the monotony, or repeat the unpredictableness, or just launch out into some place. Go eat a sandwich. Go find an animal to say hello to. Think inside the box. Think outside the box. And then eat the box.

Aug 302013
 

How often do you find yourself talking to yourself about yourself?

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I’m so much better than he is.”

“She’s so much better than I am.”

“Why did she say that about me? I don’t think she likes me very much.”

If self-scrutiny is a frequent activity in your brain, you might find it helpful to change that habit. It’s useful once in a while to reflect on ways to do well and be better. But endless evaluating will quickly drain your enthusiasm.

You may not think specific thoughts like these, but you may have vague emotions of worry, gloom, and fear around your creative work. Visceral self-doubts are tougher to deal with, because you are not simply arguing with habits of thought. You are dealing with deeper emotional connections. Wy not spend some time thinking of ways to break the routine of endless evaluating?

Get started.

One of the toughest things for a person with an artistic inspiration is to begin work on it. If you’re a writer, a wonderful idea for a new novel can feel like a new romance or adventure, bringing waves of elation and anticipation. But that novel inspiration comes with no guarantees, and there is no automatic process that will get the book written. That novel idea might lead to many months of writing and rewriting only to realize that you have twelve and a half chapters that simply won’t turn into anything. Why risk such failure? Why do something that could be a huge waste of time and energy?

One response to the doubting is, “Well why not?” If you’re going to write, you have to just write and write. Even the most skilled novelist must throw away lots of chapters and even entire novels that just won’t fly. You have to do lots of writing–including lots of disappointing writing–before you can learn to do some good writing. You can ask lots of questions about your ability and inexperience and what the big world thinks should be in a novel. You can spend a lot of time wondering if you have the right set of qualities and talents that make up “the successful writer.” Or, you can put the questions aside and start writing to see where it will lead.

Get finished.

Any kind of creative work has a huge element of plain old “work” in it, including things that are mundane, tedious, and difficult. When life demands that you dig in and get some work done, resist the boredom and discouragement. Keep practicing that music, keep revising and editing that poem, keep working stroke after stroke on that painting. It may be boring, it may be discouraging, but the path demands that you put in many long hours of sweat and stubborn focus. During those dull, hard steps in your work, you will be tempted to doubt yourself. “Am I good? Is this worth anything? Why is it so easy for others?” Trust the path, and get the work finished. You won’t know what the finished project will look like until you actually have it done. Why not throw yourself into the work till it takes you to its completion? Why not try to find fulfillment by losing yourself in the task for long stretches?

Be kind to your artistic self. Treat yourself the way a loving parent treats a child who is learning something new. Be supportive, objective, calm, and friendly toward yourself. Take yourself for a walk when that kid is having a bad day. Maybe treat that kid to some ice cream or play a game together. A child shouldn’t have to face endless scrutiny, worrying if her parent will disapprove yet again. Your artistic self needs that same kind of encouragement and guidance. That positive energy often does not come without some intention and effort. Wy not spend some time thinking of ways to replace habits of endless evaluating with habits of kindness toward yourself ?

Feb 182013
 

Every time a musician says “no” to a gig, he is making his circle of opportunities a little smaller. When he’s feeling tired and wanting some chill time at home on the couch, someone else with more motor will take his spot and keep it.

Every time a pianist says “no” to practice, she’s saying that music is not as important to her as it is for some others. On the days she doesn’t practice, someone else is racing ahead to push the music a little further.

Every time a singer says “no” to fixing a mistake in practice, he’s telling himself the mistakes are OK. He’s made that mistake twenty times in the past, and he’s sung it correctly maybe once or twice. He may need to sing it right fifty or a hundred more times to patiently untrain the mistake.

Every time a novelist says “no” to writing, she is missing the opportunity to make her draft a little better. Other writers out there aren’t skipping as many days, and some of them will make it mainly on their drive and dedication.

Every time an artist says “no” to his most important project in order to dabble in something else, he is robbing the left pocket to fill the right one. Spending energy on a frivolous diversion with no intention to complete it diminishes the soul of his main pieces.

Every time a poet says “no” to working because she is worrying and doubting, she acts unkindly toward herself. Doubting herself means she doesn’t consider herself equal. Worrying denies that working very, very hard is what makes brilliant art. She does well to hold onto the truth: She is equal, and the best thing she can do for her creative heart is to work like she loves it and means it.

When you feel discouraged, lazy, distracted, or worried about your artistic work, bravely say “yes” to your creativity.

Oct 052012
 

A forty-year-old construction worker gets arthritis in his hands after absorbing the vibrations of heavy tools and machines for years.

A call center worker keys in orders straight through her eight hour shifts. She’s scheduled for carpal tunnel surgery next week, and she’s worried about how she’ll pay the bills and take care of her four-year-old while she recovers.

A promising young pianist has to take some months off from her music for physical therapy after a sudden wrist injury. She was practicing one day and felt something snap in her wrist. In an instant her career veered off the road.

Those are some extreme examples of hand problems, but they are not too unusual. People strain their hands more than they realize. It’s not uncommon for creative people to work their hands twelve hours a day or more when creative work is combined with a day job. Musicians are especially vulnerable to hand and wrist injuries since they often push to do far more than others do with their hands. But a hand problem can also interrupt or limit the work of sculptors, painters, writers, and dancers.

Here are some suggestions for taking good care of your hands.

  1. Take charge: You are ultimately in charge of your hands. Pay attention when they feel tired, achy, or in pain. Get some medical attention at the first sign of trouble. You can blame your job at the computer keyboard all day. You can blame your violin teacher who didn’t give you proper technical guidance when you were in high school. Genetics and luck are all there too. But you are the one who is in charge, and you’re the one who has to solve the problems and stay healthy.

  2. Get the blood flowing. When the wrists and hands are full of blood, they heal and recover better. Let your arms hang limp at your sides, and feel the blood gathering in your hands. Try “the rag doll” yoga pose by bending forward at the waist and hanging limp. It might feel uncomfortable at first, but try to get used to the feeling of blood gathering in your hands.

  3. Get stronger. Find some regular exercise to strengthen your arms and upper body. You can often prevent hand problems by strengthening your arms from elbow to fingertip. The muscles that move your fingers and wrist extend the whole way back to the elbow, so stronger arms make for stronger hands. Vinyasa yoga is great for this with the “upward-facing dog” and “downward-facing dog” poses. Or you might be more inclined to hit the weights at the gym, getting on the chin-up bar, or putting in some good old push-ups.

  4. Use ice and heat. when a football player gets to the locker room after a game, he needs ice to bring down the swelling of a banged-up shoulder. A marathon runner may use wet heat on her sore back after run to treat chronic pain. If you are playing music, typing your novel, or painting for hours a day, you’re also an athlete. Don’t ignore the physical toll your work takes on your body. Learn how to use ice and heat to treat various kinds of soreness and injury. You might also want to try this less conventional treatment for tired muscles: Fill up a big mixing bowl with raw oats, rice, or dry beans and run your fingers through it for a few minutes. It’s a great massage for your hands, and believe it or not, it feels really good.

  5. Take a break. There’s an old saying among musicians: “Don’t practice for a day and you’ll feel it. Don’t practice for a week and your audience will feel it.” This is true, no doubt. The way to have a meaningful artistic life is to pursue it passionately and constantly. But there are times where a rest is the best thing for you. If you’re a little numb with your novel and your hands are sore every day, maybe close up that laptop for a week. If your fingers are sluggish and ignoring your brain’s commands at the piano, you might need a few weeks of very light practicing to rest your hands. Find a slow time between gigs and deadlines, and take a break.

  6. Check your technique. How’s your posture? Where do you hold tension in your body most of the time? Are you using your hands in the most efficient way possible? We usually think of musicians when we talk about proper technique, but a lot of writers and artists can also benefit from ergonomic improvements. A musician might get some lessons to check on her technique. Yoga, relaxation exercises, or Alexander technique can teach you to be more aware of your body and to use your hands more efficiently.

  7. Get good medical help. The hand is a delicate, complex structure of tiny bones, muscles, and tendons. Even a small injury is a big deal to the intricate structure of your hand. A wart on the back of your hand might seem like a simple thing to have removed, but keep in mind the risk to the tendons that are right there under the spot. Most hand problems should be taken care of by a hand specialist for these reasons. There’s just too much stuff too close together for you to take chances.

Here are two books that explain lots of great ways that musicians can take care of themselves, including their hands. Artistic people from other disciplines might find other resources to be more suitable to their activities. If you have a good book or article to suggest, please leave a comment to let us know.

Apr 162012
 

Stefon Harris has this great discussion on Youtube on the topic of jazz and mistakes. Check it out

Harris says that mistakes are opportunities. If you want to take the music somewhere, you can’t push and pull the others forcefully. You contribute to the motion and color and feeling by listening and responding. Forcing things to go in a certain direction will alienate your collaborators more than inspire them. As long as one accepts the other’s music, then the group plays and creates a big music with deep feeling and meaning.

Let The Musicians Play

I’ll talk about myself a little, though I’m certainly not the perfect example that all musicians should follow. I do tend to take unusual approaches to music sometimes. For example, I don’t tell others what to play very much. I know this has thrown a few of my musical collaborators off a bit, because lots of folks are used to finding a specific part and playing that. “This is my part, and I’ll play it this way.” I figure the music works best for me if every practice and every performance has a spontaneous and present flavor to it. It has to smell and taste like “now.” And I tend to gravitate towards musicians who can put a lot of “now” into their playing.

I once heard an interview where mandolinist David Grisman said that playing with guitarist Doc Watson was always a great experience in the 80s and 90s, because Watson never told anyone in those sessions what to play or how to play. That’s trust and respect.

This “free” approach isn’t a magic formula. Sometimes musicians do need more direction, of course. There are settings, such as orchestral music, where freedom is the opposite of what makes the music come alive. You have to find the approach that works in your situation, so you can’t just follow this or that dogmatically. No matter what the approach your music needs, the trust and respect you give to your collaborators is a potent fuel for feeling a great moment with the music.

Earning and Giving Respect

What if the musicians around you haven’t earned your trust and respect? What if you’re frustrated because they aren’t playing very well? maybe they are playing fine but you’re just in a bad mood. Maybe you just need to give folks a little more room to play. The competitive nature of music and the music biz makes a lot of folks grouchy, arrogant, and disapproving jerks. Watch out so you aren’t becoming one yourself.

(Insert here your favorite memory of a conductor throwing a tantrum, because that is obviously what music is all about.)

Perhaps you are standing next to someone who really doesn’t have his technical chops down solid. If you’re trying to play with someone who is seriously in over his head, that will drag you down. In that case, you can be respectful to the person by trying to help them out as much as you can, even if you can’t trust the musician to stand up to the challenge. We’ve all been in that situation where we’re just struggling and fighting with the music, and nothing good is coming out of it. So be respectful when someone else is struggling, even if you have to shake things up to get the music right. Respect the person even if you can’t respect the music.

There is a difference between technical mistakes and improvising opportunities. You need to have sound musical technique. Bad timing, slowing down the groove, playing out of tune, and making lots of rattle and clunk are not what your audience is listening for. The mistakes can be opportunities for learning and improving, as I wrote in the previous post on this blog.
Bottom line; A lot of bad music is made in the name of “freedom” and “breaking the rules.”

on the other hand,breaking the so-called rules, listening, following, accepting, and trusting are all the breath and heartbeat of the spontaneous improv side of music. Can you follow the rules, break the rules, play freely, play strictly, whatever your approach, and carry the life and the story across to your audience?

Tell A Story

Performing music well is like telling a great story. Folks usually don’t worry if someone makes a few small hesitations, mistakes, and “ums” while telling that great story. People are more interested in you and what you are saying, as long as you are making that story come alive.

Imagine a person who doesn’t speak the lingua franca well because she grew up with a different language as her first tongue. There’s no reason why that person can’t tell a great story despite her limitations in grammer and vocabulary. Carry that over to your music, and you get the point. Try to get the technical things write, but at some point you have to get past musical grammar and spelling. At some point you have to make the story come alive, even within your technical limitations.

John hartford used to say that style is a function of one’s technical limitations. That’s a good thing to tell yourself once in a while. “I can only work within these limits and parameters, so whatever I come up with, that is my style.”
the next time you practice, alone or with others, think about the stories you are trying to tell with your music. What story, picture, and feeling can you speak into each piece of music you practice? Try to go beyond the rote and get to the story behind the notes.

Mar 252012
 

Imagine a person who builds a house making frequent mistakes from beginning to end without even knowing it. The foundation is not level and solidly laid. The supports are not plumb, the walls are not sturdy, all because the builder did not do anything about the mistakes. If the builder would recognize and correct each mistake as it happens, then the house would turn out beautifully. Maybe all that correcting and reworking would take three times as long to complete the house. But which result is better–a rapidly completed house that is flawed and worthless, or a slowly built house that turns out wonderful in the end??

Last night I was out for dinner and some live music with a crew of friends. The topic of practicing guitar came up. We talked about how hard it is to notice mistakes, and then to decide what to do about them. It seems like the whole point of practicing is to improve, but seeing mistakes and fixing them can be tricky when practicing becomes mindless routine and unconscious habit.

Watch yourself as you practice to notice as many mistakes as possible.
Once you find a mistake, then you must decide what to do about it. You can choose to ignore it, because you are intentionally focusing on another part of your playing. Or you can stop and work on the mistake until you are playing the passage correctly. Or you can plan to work on the mistake later. Do you make a deliberate choice with your mistakes, or do you follow a habit or routine without much awareness?

The most obvious choice is to stop and fix a mistake when it happens. How does a musician fix a mistake? By repeating the phrase or passage and trying to play it correctly? By improvising an exercise to focus on the underlying skill needed to correct the mistake? By focusing your mental attention to the trouble spot to clarify the connection between mind and muscles? Identifying the cause of the mistake might point you to the best remedy. If the problem is mental distraction, then you will need to put more focused attention on the problem. If the cause is physical, then you will need to work on muscles and technique. Sometimes a mistake is more stylistic–a weak or forced presentation. In that case you will need to combine your imagination and technique to develop a more effective interpretation for the piece.

Here’s a novel way to make some good use of your practice-time mistakes. Watch for mistakes as you play, and write down a nice long list of them. Do this for fifteen or twenty minutes, and suddenly you have a list that can serve as your practice agenda for the coming weeks and months. If your practice time is boring or uninspired, build your mistake list and get to work.

I once read in a book of Zen sayings that “life is a continuous mistake.” That saying has stuck with me for years. Life is messy, and people make mistakes all the time. Sometimes we don’t see our mistakes, and they just continue to happen. Other times we can recognize them and use them to grow and improve. It works for practicing music, and it works for other areas of life. Look for your mistakes in your relationships, your finances, and the way you spend your time. It’s a good thing we are all so flawed, because we have lots of mistakes to help us learn and grow.

Dec 022011
 

I had the opportunity to hear musician Suzanne Vega speak twice in November. Vega’s work is one of the strongest influences on my own songwriting and music, so it was a privilege to here her speak in person about her career and work.

First, she gave the keynote address at the northeast Regional Folk alliance in New York. She talked about the recent deaths of Bill morrissey and Jack hardy, who were her friends and supporters during her early years as a performer. These two helped her build her peer network, get out to play in more places, and held her to a high standard for her music.

Second, I attended a songwriters workshop by Vega in Washington DC. The workshop was set up to have three DC-area songwriters each present a song to the group, and then Vega would discuss the work with the writer. I expected her to be tough, critical, and encouraging. She was critical, and she was tough on one songwriter in particular who really didn’t appear to be ready for such a public grilling. But I was impressed with Vega’s warmth and genuine interest. She seemed to like the songs a lot more than I did, and she showed no sign of a “rock star” attitude.

Vega described how a good song is an idea that you can’t get rid of, something that sticks in your head and keeps bugging you until you have to finish it. that’s very different from my process, which is to capture lots of ideas so that I don’t lose them. she seemed to say that a writer could just lose a lot of ideas, because the really great ones would force themselves to stick in your brain. I can see both sides–take down all your ideas and inspirations, and review them later to find the few gems. But don’t tie yourself entirely to those notebooks and computer files, because a really good song will write itself over time.

One person at the DC workshop asked how he could become more comfortable and free as a performer. “Rehearse, rehearse, and rehearse,” was Vega’s answer. Another great reminder that practice is the number one ingredient for good music. How hard and how smart you work at your rehearsing determines how good you perform.

Vega pointed the audience at one of these events to Jack hardy’s songwriting manifesto. Here is a brief version of this set of ideals and instructions, well worth your pondering. Write a song every week. Get into the good stuff that other people are doing. Melody is half the song, so write melodies that stand without your guitar or piano. Spend some time reading and thinking about Hardy’s ideas, and you’ll learn how hard and how rewarding it is to be a songwriter.

Nov 052011
 

Today I ran across this blog post on violinist.com about a violin student’s tears when facing the challenge of playing Bach. I’m an appalachian fiddler, not a classical violinist, but I can relate to a few points here.

Point #1: don’t count on linear progression in your efforts to improve. The writer describes how a piece can make intonation and other technical issues come to the fore. I see this with my Appalachian music buddies. We’ll take a simple tune and try it out, and it seems ready to go within a few tries. then after playing it at gigs for a while, suddenly the tune seems to lose its groove, and we have to really practice hard on it to tighten it up. Now you have it, and suddenly you lost it and struggle to find it again.

I see this in my private practice on the fiddle. I’ll work on tone exercises for a few months, and suddenly my timing seems off. I work on timing, and my intonation slips. then I work on intonation, and circle around and around. Music is like other parts of life: You keep learning the same lessons over and over.

Point #2: Don’t assume that your subjective experience of playing a piece corresponds exactly to the objective experience of hearing it. In the Bach blog post, the student feels like she is losing ground while the teacher hears progress. I see this dispute between subjective and objective in myself and in other musicians fairly regularly. “did that sound OK?” “I didn’t play very well.” “You sounded great. Why do you act like you didn’t play so well?”

It helps to give less than one hundred percent credence to your subjective experience of playing. Listen to the subjective, but then ask others for their input and feedback to balance things out.

Point #3: Perfection? What is that? I appreciate the idea of holding oneself to very high standards. but perfection means playing in tune, playing in exact rhythm, all the technical and mechanical parts of music. What about emotion and personality? What about smiling at the audience, or playing with sadness, or vulnerability? for my appalachian fiddle music, it’s about making people tap their feet and getting up to dance. If I skip a few notes but have a strong pulse and drive, that’s a successful performance.

Aug 242011
 

Stacey Earle and Mark Stuart are hard-working songwriters and musicians from Tennessee. They tour extensively, bringing their polished songwriting and personal warmth to their audiences with just their voices and acoustic guitars.

I interviewed Stacey and Mark via email about their work as musicians and life on the road. You can read more about them and purchase their music at their website.

How do you see your distinct personalities complementing each other in your
work?

MS: When we met in 1992 I was spending more time with musicians (although I was also a songwriter). Stacey led me down a path where I was putting more time in to songwriting circles, most of them not being strong players. This helped me to emphasize the writing more in my career. Stacey did a stint as a staff writer, so, we were in that camp for several years. I probably helped steer her in to being a stronger musician.

How do you approach practicing? Do you take a spontaneous approach, or do you use scales, exercises, warm-ups in a more systematic way?

SE: We are onstage most of the year and that is our practice! But, it is a natural thing to pick up a guitar when we are home.

MS: I play when not on tour, but, other music and other instruments. I never really played scales as a practice method, just songs.

What is the most fun part of touring? What is the most fun part about
finally getting back home?

SE: The fun part is everything we see, persons we meet, and moments we experience from point A to B (show to show). When I get home I am playing “house” and gardening.

Where’s the best food in the U. S.? Europe?

SE: My favorite is San Antonio, TX (carne gasada!). In Europe it is Spain.

Have you experienced creative block or other obstacles? Where do you find
creative renewal during down times?

SE: I have for the first time in my life as a result of the loss of my dad. The renewal? I don’t know-I guess it will come with time.

MS: Booking dates, driving to them, and performing so much has taken up a lot of my creative space. I will have to fight my way out of it.

What went into the decision to sell your entire catalog with unreleased
tracks on the flash drive? How’s the reception been for the new medium?

MS: We had a lot of material that had never been heard by our audience. We thought it would be a great idea to couple that batch of songs with all of our CDs. And, this is seemingly the new age we are in.

SE: The reception has been great. It has brought an MP3 option to our merch table (vs. folks going home after a show and purchasing it on Itunes!). Where downloads are a great store, it has hurt merch sales at shows. This is money artists need for tour support.

What advice would you give to someone who admires your music and wants to build a musician’s career?

SE: Be prepared to give it 100%. That means you live on the road, away from your family and friends. And, you quit the security of your day job. It is all a great risk for the love of music.

MS: All of what Stacey said is true. You will not likely be a good plumber if you spend all of your time as a banker. This is a business, not a hobby, and has to be treated that way. The first time I went on tour at age 18 it was so liberating to be in a van all day and at a hotel and venue at night with several other people who were full-time musicians. We talked about it all of the time and did not have other influences pulling our energy away from our dream. There is no room for me to do this part-time because there are thousands of others doing it 24/7. I cannot compete with them unless I am serious about my career.

It’s been great having you come through northern VA the past few years.
Hope to see and hear you again very soon. Thanks!