More on the Mess
It's Wednesday. The jobless have to think about it to know what day it is. All the days seems to run into the other.
I'm a little down today. The insomnia that had been threatening to go full fledged since I arrived, kicked into high gear the last two nights. Why is it that we need sleep so badly, but sometimes it doesn't work? I lay there last night, my eyes snapping open like two trick blinds. Graham slept like a baby.
I realized last night that when I go into a ditchy place I seriously consider quitting music for real and for good. It's not the only thing I do artistically, and it feels like an unhealthy relationship. The past 3 years I've been sort of on the fence about it. I've kept one foot in, while also wanting to leap away with the other foot. After a really painful, messy period both professionally and personally, I didn't do it at all for a whole year. I played guitar alone in my room, but that was it. Meanwhile my mother yelled at me that I was wasting my life and my talent, my CD collected dust on a shelf in Massachusetts, and I had anxiety attacks everytime I tried to play the guitar. In that year and the following two years, while I was so busy focusing on these wounds, I also wrote a novel and created two calendars, and got a little better. Although I have come along way--I started writing songs again, performing again (and shocker of shockers), kind of liking it again--I still feel this enormous thorn in my side about it. It still hurts, so I want to give it up.
I once heard that Chuck D. of Public Enemy (a secret hero of mine) was speaking to a large assembly of youths who wanted to be rappers and hip hop artists. He said (and I am paraphrasing here), "Over and over I hear from guys who say they want to make it big and then retire at the age of thirty. I ask them, do you love music? Because that's the only reason to do it, and if you love music, there is no such thing as retiring."
In her book, The Sound of Paper, Julia Cameron talks about her own desires to quit writing at a point when despair and doubt had overtaken her. She says that quitting any medium you've had your heart in, is like a messy, unsatisfying divorce. You become way too interested in how your ex is doing.
You see my predicament.
Ultimately, when I say I want to quit, it's not music per se, it's the relationship I feel to it. It's the part of me who thinks I need to succeed at it to be an okay person, to not let those who I feel have hurt me, continue to hurt me. I am so afraid and ashamed of my own failures that I try to outrun them, but THEY ARE RUNNING ME. I still don't know what to do about this, but I've made a decison for right now. This week I am going to do only what delights me. Nothing of what I think I SHOULD DO in terms of artistry. No shoving. It's harder to do than you think--I've got a lot fo resistance. It's hard to let go and not ask of everything: BUT WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?? I am addicted to meaning. But I want to try to let go for once. I want to quit these hounds of hell that nip at my heels, and kill them with kindness.
I'm a little down today. The insomnia that had been threatening to go full fledged since I arrived, kicked into high gear the last two nights. Why is it that we need sleep so badly, but sometimes it doesn't work? I lay there last night, my eyes snapping open like two trick blinds. Graham slept like a baby.
I realized last night that when I go into a ditchy place I seriously consider quitting music for real and for good. It's not the only thing I do artistically, and it feels like an unhealthy relationship. The past 3 years I've been sort of on the fence about it. I've kept one foot in, while also wanting to leap away with the other foot. After a really painful, messy period both professionally and personally, I didn't do it at all for a whole year. I played guitar alone in my room, but that was it. Meanwhile my mother yelled at me that I was wasting my life and my talent, my CD collected dust on a shelf in Massachusetts, and I had anxiety attacks everytime I tried to play the guitar. In that year and the following two years, while I was so busy focusing on these wounds, I also wrote a novel and created two calendars, and got a little better. Although I have come along way--I started writing songs again, performing again (and shocker of shockers), kind of liking it again--I still feel this enormous thorn in my side about it. It still hurts, so I want to give it up.
I once heard that Chuck D. of Public Enemy (a secret hero of mine) was speaking to a large assembly of youths who wanted to be rappers and hip hop artists. He said (and I am paraphrasing here), "Over and over I hear from guys who say they want to make it big and then retire at the age of thirty. I ask them, do you love music? Because that's the only reason to do it, and if you love music, there is no such thing as retiring."
In her book, The Sound of Paper, Julia Cameron talks about her own desires to quit writing at a point when despair and doubt had overtaken her. She says that quitting any medium you've had your heart in, is like a messy, unsatisfying divorce. You become way too interested in how your ex is doing.
You see my predicament.
Ultimately, when I say I want to quit, it's not music per se, it's the relationship I feel to it. It's the part of me who thinks I need to succeed at it to be an okay person, to not let those who I feel have hurt me, continue to hurt me. I am so afraid and ashamed of my own failures that I try to outrun them, but THEY ARE RUNNING ME. I still don't know what to do about this, but I've made a decison for right now. This week I am going to do only what delights me. Nothing of what I think I SHOULD DO in terms of artistry. No shoving. It's harder to do than you think--I've got a lot fo resistance. It's hard to let go and not ask of everything: BUT WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?? I am addicted to meaning. But I want to try to let go for once. I want to quit these hounds of hell that nip at my heels, and kill them with kindness.
posted by Summer Pierre at
3:13 PM
4 Comments:
Hi Summer..
I have been reading your blog for sometime now- it's become part of my usual daily ritual.
Often your posts eddy along similar points as to what has been filling my head.
This post is no different.
I have often thought, that quite honestly, without music, I would simply die- have no choice, but too..
I am not a musician by any means-
Art is more my thing, and although it frustrates the hell out of me when people say things like- 'oh, I've never been artistic'..
I feel ok in saying, I have never had any musical talent!
Which, with music playing such an integral part in my life- makes me admire those that do, even more!
There are no rules to how it has to manifest though.
Perhaps the best space for your music to breathe IS in your bedroom. But then too, maybe it's not.
As an artist myself, I find I get very caught up in the idea of being able to make a living out of something I love (art), and that's usually were I get bogged down with similar thoughts to what you aired in this post..
Although I'm sure the world would be a more joyful place with the gift of your music, who says you're wasting your talent if you just keep it for yourself & your nearest and dearest?
I guess what I'm trying to say in this verbose response (!!) is that as long as your motivations come from an authentic and unafraid place, who cares what results!
My own are a twisted mess, so I can't quite differentiate what IS authentic and what's other peoples voices- so I too, am trying this new tract of- only what brings delight.
Good luck on finding your truth, and breathing easy with your gifts.
-Sally-
CAN you quit? I bet you can quit trying to do whateveryone says you should do: "succeed"/be famous/play shows/gain a following/make money off your art...but I bet you can't just quit playing music cause you love it.
All that shit- what everyone says- THAT has very little to do with being an artist or a musician. That's a construction of this society, and capitalism, and AMERICA (sorry I became an anarchist recently). It's not about love and personal growth and wisdom and the NEED of the PLANET to have everyone express themselves creatively however they damn well feel inclined to...it's about the culture of celebrity that we live in and about the unwritten rule that says "if you are worth anything as an artist you will be publicly recognized...you just have to put yourself out there. You are the only one to blame for your own failure." I think it's bullshit. Do what you love to do. Whatever happens, happens.
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Being jobless and sleepless are two of the most depressing (as in: YOU GET DEPRESSED) things ever. These things are influencing your mood! Buy valerian! Good luck on the job! I didn't leave the house for 2 weeks except to job hunt when I first moved to SF and boy, was I a bundle of joy!
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