Keep the fire burning

I can't begin to express the role that little coffee shop/bakeries play in my happiness on tour. Today finds me in a European-style bakery in Nashville, TN (who knew?) and I've been camped out in the back corner of the shop all day. Based on this intro, I'm assuming today's post will dwell on an issue I've currently been dealing with on tour: taking care of yourself.

Now, don't roll your eyes or write this off just yet. Many people had expressed the importance of taking care of myself while on the road and I guess I listened to them a bit, however I never took any of the advice to heart. I mean, I knew how to take care of myself, right? I got through a hectic 4 years of college just fine and managed to get a great job. How hard could it be? I was going to be fine, right?

Wrong. Taking care of yourself has so many facets, many more than I had originally realized.

Physically speaking, I had that under control. I knew the demands my instrument puts on my body. I knew to stretch every day, I knew to be careful with my wrists, I knew to exercise to keep stay strong and relaxed, I knew when to practice to keep myself fresh and when to take breaks. Sure, I had to make a few adjustments and learn a bit. I had to learn how to arrange my seat in the pit, how to angle my chair, how to adjust my set-up etc etc. But I had the physical under control.

Socially, I knew what I had to do. I knew I had to find close friends, people who shared my interest in the field, but who also could take my mind off work. I knew my social energy (which some could say is often non-existent...) but I knew the types of people I was looking for and I found them, or rather, they found me. I also knew that I needed my alone time and I knew I was going to have to take it when I needed it.

Artistically, now this is where it got complicated. Or I should say "gets complicated" because I'm still figuring this one out. The artistic thrill of playing the show wore off long ago. It lasted a long time, and granted, it still happens occasionally, however it is not a daily event any longer. NOTE: There is nothing wrong with this, it's just the nature of the career. Here's where things get tricky. If I were doing this job in New York or even Chicago and if I weren't in a different city every week, I could get my artistic "fix" in so many places during the day while I was playing the show at night. However, not having a home-base makes finding that thrill more difficult than I had ever imagined. I had a professor in college talk about "protecting your flame" and I now understand what she meant. I believe she had used it in the context of auditions or maybe in terms of criticism. "Protecting your flame" is all about keeping that little flame of artistic passion burning inside, despite all odds. As a bright-eyed college student, this was easy to do. I had so many dreams and life changed daily. Now, the responsibility of "protecting the flame" became key to artistic survival once real life set in.

Again, "protecting your flame" is easy when you are constantly stimulated artistically and when your art is well-received, or rather, appreciated. When one or more of these factors is removed, the flame is threatened. And in a life of transience, it is very easy for that flame to come under constant attack.

Enough with the abstract metaphor, let's talk strategy. How do you keep your flame alive? I don't have answers for everyone, but I have my answers for sure. It usually begins with days like this, sitting in a bakery alone for hours on end. Sitting, thinking, writing, blogging. I find that a little alone time is the best start. Next, make sure you have a project that stimulates your artistry. For me, that's orchestration. Yes it's tedious, yes it's difficult to do without a piano nearby, but it gives me a chance to have complete artistic freedom and allows me to express myself, even if my writing goes nowhere for the time-being. And the best part about orchestration: it allows me to collaborate with composer friends who live thousands of miles away. Orchestration is portable. Finally, a good artistic outing helps to bring the flame back to life. Whether it's an art gallery or a small concert or even a good film, just having to chance to observe and critique art puts me back in touch with what I'm about as an artist.

I hope I haven't bored you too much with all this art talk... The subject of personal health has just been an issue of recent importance.

Remember: Protect your flame.

what you live for

observation: in this business, you begin to live for your sunday nights and mondays off.

Two lives

"There are two lives that people lead. One is the real life of business, mating, plans, bankruptcies and gas bills. The other is an unreal life - a life of secret grandeurs which compensate for the monotony of the days." - Ben Hecht's "Michigan Avenue"

Something to think on: Yes, this quote contains a great deal of truth, however is it not the clash between the two above mentioned "lives" that spurs artistry? Does the artist not strive to marry the unreal life of secret grandeurs with real life? Is that not what sparks creation? Just a thought.