The Arrival

I start my mornings much like you. My lad servant Clint awakes me by peppering my blankets with lavender and rose water, while Bagrat my Georgian chambermaid, raises the venetian blinds ¼ an inch every 15 minutes. Bagrat then chooses my clothing for the day. She usually settles on an outfit that makes me look like something in between a full-time blogger and a part-time blogger. However, there is the off chance that she’ll lean towards a professional story-teller outfit, ornamented with a wearable blanket from Taos, an ocarina and an Indian feathered headress. I trust her because she has a strong background in the forced manual labor industry and this has left her a little jumpy. I appreciate this.

Chill out Bagrat.

After I arise, my lad servant Clint dismantles my stack-of-cans-by-the-door and I enter the living room where coffee is served. I then turn on the television.

One morning, I diverted from the normative news-based programming, which without failure informs me of a fire somewhere, to the more friendly choice of watching reruns of “Heathcliff” – a TV show from the early/late 1980’s.

If you have no relation to this show you have not missed much. It’s a cartoon based off of a comic strip featuring a cat. Familiar formula. It was on TV twice, once in 1980, and again in 1984. The animation was hamfisted, the plots were full of holes, and it lived in my memory as a B-List cartoon.

The A-List cartoons were the Warner Bros./Looney Tunes cartoons. Fully realized microcosms filled with great characters, great writing, and awesome animation, these cartoons served as an introduction to many aspects of the human character; love, lust, foolishness, humor and humility. Mel Blanc provided the voices for the galaxy of characters and his delivery, timing, and malleable voice talent gave breath to the drawings and personified "The Cartoon."

So imagine my surprise when I see in the credits of my morning re-run, that Mel Blanc is the voice of Heathcliff.

I had no idea! I had been living a double life inside my own life. In my mind I had drawn a line; I had separated the "good" cartoons, from the "so-so" cartoons, and never knew the heart of one was the heart of the other. Deep.

On one hand this gave me heavy boots. I thought of Mel Blanc in the winter of his life (he died in 1989) working on a schlock show. What happened to you Mel? You had it ALL! You worked on the Jack Benny Show, you had your OWN show on CBS, you were with Warner Bros. and Hanna Barbera and you defined the golden age of cartoons. Bro.

And on the other hand I referenced the gospel of the hustle. Mel Blanc kept on working on new things right up until the end. He wasn't gonna hang his hat on the Looney Tunes, he was continuously seeking new ways to engage his art, he was the hustle and there was no half-stepping.

So....

We categorize. This is good. This is bad. This is real. This is fake. This makes sense and helps us organize our allegiances to bands, brands, faith, and faces. However it blocks out the infinitely larger side of things we choose to ignore or label as not worth our time. There could be some good information in the things we label as unimportant, so it's useful for us to cast a broader net as we ensnare, collect and try to understand the moments in our life.

We as artists feel that there will be, in the future, a time when ‘mastery’ will set in. Where we won't have to take crap gigs. A future where every time we set out to achieve an artistic goal we nail it, and get awards. A future where our minds won’t be plagued with questions concerning the structure, validity, and integrity of our work. We believe that once we “arrive” we will be able to forgo the exhaustive process of struggling to bring our dreams onto the stage of reality.

The significant point in the story of Mel Blanc is that the life of an artist never "arrives." Our golden train of milk and honey and paychecks never fully stops. It might allow us to grab the rail and ride a while, but this is a train only to be ridden in the figurative sense. The real reward from working on a craft is the opportunity to familiarize yourself with the feeling of creation. And to continuously put in front of you new challenges that help you experience that feeling in new and novel ways. All the way until the end.

When asked which of his compositions he loved the most, an elderly Duke Ellington replied, "I haven't written it yet."

There is no "arrival." We keep on being the best we can be and focus on the 'here and now', because that's the only time we ever get to experience.

In My Own World

Yesterday I found myself in the book store, and I was perusing the self-help/music section. This is the section where you find books like...

"What To Look At While Someone Takes A Solo"
"10 Steps To Writing Songs That Aren't About Your Tired Ass Life"
"The Chordal Koran; Music for your next Jihad"
or
"Music: The Highway to Homelessness"

Other books biographically dismantled musical heroes to show their soft inner shell, others painted the tortured soul engaged in mid-air combat with creative demons. Most books aimed to help musicians ditch self-consciousness and get back to the heart of music making. Which got me thinking; why do something that necessitates books like this? Why do something that makes you doubt yourself? Art is hard on your person. Which in turn made me say; but only as hard as you make it.

Which brings me to True Grit.

True Grit left me feeling electrified. Something was rattling and humming inside of me after I left the theater. It's as if I saw a declamatory statement on screen, not a suggestion of what a movie should be, or an appropriation of the ingredients of a good story reconstituted in the form of a movie. A real piece of work. The Coen Bros. excel at making movies "their" way. This is not to say they're doing something groundbreaking, it's just that they have found a way to do something different with cliche.

What happens when music, film, dance, art leaves you with this "electricity?" These meaningful events are packed with the energy of the people who created them. The more they drop true inspiration into the product (rather than second guessing, bowing to outside influences, trying to sound like something they're not) the more it glows with the fire of creation, the more it affects us.

So I say, live in your own world. Populate your inner world with the monuments of forward motion and determination. Fill the skyline with the architecture of inspiration drawn from sources within, as well as drawn from outside influences. Challenge your own thoughts to ensure you're not building on a swamp. Constantly build and make it the most dynamic and amazing world no one else will ever see!

Long=Short - People are gonna hate. People are gonna love. More than likely, people are gonna not give a shit. So the answer is, Do it!

You wanna write a song about making love to a shark? Do it!

You wanna hang a piece of wire on a nail and call it "Disillusionment 7"? Do it!

You feel the need to make a movie about a family of traveling coats that meet a vest and that just turns their whole world upside down? Do it!

You never get heard if you never make a noise. So be proud and live in your own world, drink your own kool-aid, and believe in yourself - the rest will fall where it will.

Check out music from WhaleHawk

Merry Merry!

Folks,

Enjoy the holiday time with the people you're with and let em know how important they are. It never gets old.

Love,
WhaleHawk

People, who need people....

Friends,

As I sit here reflecting on what can only be described as my "salad days" I'm struck with a huge meaty blow to my knowledge of self. I would not be anywhere near life's silly salad bar if I wasn't poked, prodded, encouraged, shaked, kissed, slapped and manhandled by my contemporaries, friends, and colleagues. What I'm saying folks, is if you think you can be that one-person-entertainment-machine and not look like a dumb-ass or miss really important things along the way you're fooling yourself.

"Not based in reality"

With all of the opportunities the net offers to create your own environment and be the sovereign leader of your input/output, the world can seem totally manageable. I can upload this, click on that, get this file in the hands of this guy and I'm not wearing pants (I'm wearing pants).

But in reality the computer and the social networks and the Tweets and yes, even this blog, are just tools. They don't the replace human links. And not "I know this guy cos I get his RSS" links, or "Isn't that the midget from Zelda" - no.

I'm talking friendships.

I recorded an album, had it mixed and mastered, press shots taken, graphic design and artwork completed, horns recorded, guitars and bass plucked, background vocals sang, remixes mixed, press kits sent to various music blogs for review, and 4 videos shot and edited and uploaded. ALL of this was through connections and basically ALL of this was done on the understanding that everyone would get credit and when these people needed me, I would be there for them. That's it.

I did offer sexual favors but no one accepted.

"Step into my office."

SoapBox Moment:

I seem to find myself surrounded by inspiring people. All the time. I think what interests me in hanging out with people who are down to build things is that it forces me to not be full of shit, and if I am full of shit, at least it helps me find a novel way to present that to the outside world. When you stay in contact with people who are creative, smart, and hungry you can't help but snack on the buffet of motivation. And when the time comes for you to make something, you have a list of people you know you can trust to get that product into its tangible form.

That brings another issue to the surface and that is trusting other people to get things done. These might not happen the way you had envisioned which is the beautiful part of people helping people. They put a stamp on it, you put a stamp on it. It's instantly bigger than the both of you and therefore it's desirable to a larger number of people. An example of this is the inside joke. It's funny to those people who were there, but for people who were not, this is a huge waste of time. Notice how no one who is truly entertaining concludes their story with "You had to have been there."

Which dovetails nicely into....

The last part of people helping people is that working with others on projects gets you out of living a life of singular experience. We all are wrapped up in our own amazingly intricate, personalized episode of "The Young and the Restless" (or One Tree Hill, or Soul Food) - the story lines are unique to us and many of us choose to employ a shadowy figure with an eye-patch even if this person has no place in the narrative - regardless, we are wrapped up in a cocoon of self engagement. When you work with others you are extending your mental capacity to include other story lines, creating a tapestry of experience that enriches the quality of all involved. After I got married to my wife I realized what an invaluable resource it is to have someone who reflects your image back at you and how this sensitizes you to social interactions for the rest of your life. This is a great example of people helping people.

In conclusion - hit up your friends to help you with your ideas and projects, offer your services to friends working in your specific field, collaborate with someone outside of your field and fertilize each other's imagination crops....together it will be bigger than it's parts and you'll all have something to write home about.

NEXT EPISODE - CueBro; how we made the above happen....