songs, strangers, stories and dreams: an improvised artist's date

Never under-estimate God's ability to throw you a curve ball, or your abilities to field it.

I did not set out to have this week's Artist's date tonight, but it just kind of happened.

I spent the day glued to my phone and the computer, and only got up to walk Kody and make a fresh pot of tea every now and then. It was one of those days where I kept catching myself wondering why I ever thought it was a good idea to start my own business... then I'd kick myself in the ass for doubting my ability to reach my goals. Consequently, by the end of the work day, my brain and my ass were both feeling pretty sore.

A friend called around 9:00 and chastized me for still working.
I realized I hadn't eaten since noon, and I really didn't feel like braving the kitchen that late at night, so I walked over to a little Mexican restaurant and bar near my house for dinner.

This place is the local hangout for L.A.'s honest-to-goodness cowboys. Not the kind you see at the bars in boots and hats who have never been on a horse or roped a steer, but the everyday working horsemen and women. I live close to the largest stable in Los Angeles, and people who work there often stop in for a bite to eat. I hardly ever go out to eat alone, but tonight, not having anyone across the table from me gave me a chance to people watch. (yes, blind people can still people watch.) I found myself having fun observing the melting pot around me. Three or four guys walked past me with spurs on, fresh off the saddle. I wouldn't have been surprised to find their horses tied out front (there are hitchingposts out there for that, and it's not uncommon.) Across the room from me, I could hear two men in the movie biz discussing film types, caracter-building and lighting for their movie. In the bar, an open mic night was in full swing, complete with pitchy guitars, twangy drunk crooners, and rough-and-tumble voices that sounded like they'd seen one too many late nights over a cheap bottle of wine.

I got to have a nice chat with myself over dinner about a lot of the good and bad points of being the owner of a small business, and what it's going to take to really make it fly. I'd been reading the artist's Way a little more today, and had stumbled across a passage about self-imposed limits.

We assume that we can't possibly do something, or reach a goal... it's just too far out of reach. "I couldn't win a grammy," we say, or "that's too expensive." "It's nice to dream about that, but in reality.." or "if I could make money in that... but I can't..." Yeah. If you work in the arts, you've said something along those lines to yourself at least once. A day, a week, a month... a minute... admit it. I realized I've done far too much of that lately, trying to be frugal and not giving myself the benefit of the doubt. I need to shake off these self-imposed limits and change course a little bit. I decided that it's time to re-think my strategy a little bit, and approach things from a different angle.

When I walked out of the restaurant, I passed the open mic stage, where a raucous blues guitarist was hammering away on his out-of-tune guitar, and the feedback was ear-splitting. Outside, the night felt so peaceful, then I heard soft guitar music and I stopped to listen. A soft voice, true in pitch and quiet, was singing with the guitar. I stood there listening, until my phone rang. It was a client with some recording questions. I took the call, then reached into my purse for a card and a tip for the guitarist.

We introduced ourselves, and wound up talking. She's starting her career in music, just releasing her first EP, and had tons of questions for me.

As I walked home after watching her performance and talking with her for over an hour, I couldn't help but marvel at what had just happened. We each had something to give the other. She needs a fiddler. I fiddle. She had encouragement for me, and reminded me why I do what I do, and in turn, I gave her inspiration, advice, and encouragement.

Art flows like a river. A river does not flow if there is not water, and the water doesn't come from within. It comes from God, the world around you. The tributaries for your art pour in at the least likely bends in the river, revitalizing you, replenishing your dwindling resources, keeping you flowing toward your eventual goal.

Meeting the guitarist tonight reminds me that God answers prayers in his own strangely beautiful way, if you give him the chance. When you open your heart, it will be filled. When you open your hand, be generous in giving, and in accepting. Open your ears and your mind long before you open your mouth or turn your back. Wehn you give to others, you give to yourself far more.

I'm a pretty shy person when it comes to meeting strangers, and I'm not usually the type to walk up to a new musician and hand them my card. That usually brings the immediate response of: "You're a producer? Produce me! Make me a star! Pay for my record." I don't do that at all... so I can be very hesitant to reveal my job to those I don't know well. Everyone thinks of a producer as the big shot with the big bucks and the big mouth and the big ideas. I'm about as far from that stereotype as you could possibly get. But tonight, something abou ther music or the moment just struck me, and I'm glad it did.

God puts us in places for a reason. I needed my wellspring renewed, and she told me that earlier today she'd been praying for something to point her in the right direction--some guide or signpost to tell her where to go from here. It's amazing how two complete strangers can help each other on such a deeply spiritual level with just a few words, a song, a smile, and a shared dream. I guess that's why I launched this blog in the first place, to share a dream, share a vision, to find ways through this crazy world without letting the river run dry in the process. In fact, thats the very reason I chose a career as a producer. Finding that dream that is tied up inside a soul, and helping a talented musician set their music free for the world is why I produce. It's the joy in life I live for, knowing someone's vision, and helping them turn it from a tiny spark of thought into a momentous force that changes lives, touches hearts, opens minds and accomplishes who knows what else in this world?

I have the best job.