Artistic inspiration ambush: clean up your dirty mind!

Welcome back to your normally scheduled blog topic: The Artist’s Way... sort of. Can anything abou this blog be considered normal anyway??? Not when I’m at the keyboard… I haven’t blogged about the Artist’s Way for a while, so let’s get back to it!

Before diving in, I need to cover a few quick housekeeping items.

First, music biz Q&A part 2 is coming! Come visit on Friday for all the fun.

Second, I’ve had a ton of questions on crystal healing and Yoga, so starting next week, I’ll put up a whole new blog devoted to living yoga, crystals, holistic healing, herbs, and anything concerning mind, body or spirit. I’ll let you know the link.

Okay on to today’s blog, finding inspiration.

I don’t have a set formula for where or when artistic inspiration will strike me. I can be reading, watching TV, going through something in my life, joking with friends over dinner, hearing a talk at Church… All of these scenarios are full of ah-ha moments. Ah-ha moment: when the hand of inspiration reaches out and smacks you in the head and commands: “Make me! Create me! Give me life, a voice, a form.”

I’ve found artistic inspiration to be an equal-opportunity attacker with no compunctions or shame whatsoever. It invades my thoughts when I'm dead asleep, jerking me awake and plunging me into the midst of a new song before I even figure out where I am or what time it is. It steals my peace when I'm eating dinner or having a good phone conversation with a friend. "That would be a great lyric line!" pops out of my mouth at the most inopportune moments, followed by frenzied hunning and a mad dash for the nearest instrument. This is a familiar scene to all who know me--one they probably dread because it's usually followed by a long period of them being banished, and me hacking my way through the tangle of another tune or story.

But it likes to find me most often during my most private moments. Music walks right in while I'm stealing a moment of peace in the shower. I'm usually full of suds, enjoying a hot soak, and some solitude.. and the next thing I know there's this stranger sharing the shower with me, rocketing around inside my head going "Let me out! Let me out!"

"I didn't invite you in," would be my first response, but then again, that mental gate is standing wide open, even when I'm butt naked and dripping wet, running with a towel half-on for my digital recorder or a scrap of paper.

Anyone know if they've invented water-proof paper and pens yet? Not even the digital recorder can save me when the shower ambush occurs. Nasty, scandalous, dirty little sneaks, those ideas. And yet, so satisfying. :)

Whenever and wherever inspiration hits, it’s usually a head-on collision, an the only fatality is that of bordom. My pride might be injured, my mind might be pried open and lit up like Christmas, but you can bet that I feel better after I get it all out.

Keeping artistic inspiration locked up inside is, for me, like turning myself into a human volcano. Too many stifled ideas, and I promise you, Mt. St. Sassy will erupt and spew stuff everywhere with no regard for damages or bystanders. It’s far better to control the inspiration, direct and channel it, let it out all over paper instead of some poor friend’s unsuspecting ear.

I think it’s time we re-visit the Mental Neighborhood from a few months ago. Take a walk around your neighborhood and do inventory. Are there a few ideas you stuffed into hidey-holes, promising yourself you’d make time somewhere down the line to fix them up nd show them to the world. Is that a discarded idea I see being blown down the street like a piece of flotsome!

Grab a notebook and a pen (or a computer if you’re blind or a geek), and go clean up that internal neighborhood. Don’t litter by just dropping ideas all over the place, pick them up anddispose of them properly, onto a piece of paper, or nto a waiting instrument, piece of clay, canvas—whatever form you work in! The world likes new ideas, so throw yours out where they’ll have a chance to flourish!

Blind drivers coming to a road near you!!!

You’re running late for a meeting, and the last thing you feel like doing is braving L.A. traffic. You run out to the car, put your route to the office into the GPS, and pull up your fave playlist on your Ipod. When you pull up to the stoplight, you happen to glance to your left, where you see a Corvette revving her engine. You do a double-take as the Corvette moves out onto the freeway beside you, then passes you by… There’s a Guide Dog sitting in the passenger seat, tongue lolling, ears flying in the breeze… but the only person in that car is in the driver’s seat…

Hey, guess what, it’s not that far away. Before you know it, you’ll be seeing blind people all over the road, and not just in the cross-walks or on public transit.

I woke up this morning, and since I didn’t have to leap out of bed and make a mad dash for Yoga class, I turned on the TV for a moment, and came across a documentary on the science channel about robotic cars. The driverless cars had to negotiate their way through a sixty mile race-course without any human intervention. Tasks ranged from maneuvering through a traffic circle and parking lot, to merging on a high-speed freeway. The bots faced a dirt road, and had to figure out traffic jams.

While the technology was developed to save the lives of soldiers by sending automatons into battle, it’s effects will be far felt. Over ninety percent of vehicular accidents today are caused by human error. Not only would automated cars allow blind people to drive, and revolutionize safety for combat, it would completely change the face of civilian driving.

While some of you read this and moan because it would take away your cruising fun, or damage your ability to speed to a meeting, think about the bigger picture for a minute. It’s on the horizon, so get ready! I’ll be sharing the road with you before long, and baby, I can’t wait!!!

Oh, and before you ask, yes, I have driven a car before. :-d No, I will not divulge where or when.

This and other technological developments in the past fifteen years or so have completely changed how we as a society function, obviously, but it has really had an impact on how blind people access life, and accomplish their work. From specialized computers designed specifically for the blind, to cell phones and computers made for the general public that are modified for our use, more and more products are blind-friendly these days.

There are still plenty of hurtles to be overcome, such as inability to fully access print materials, but even that is changing. I can snap a picture of a document with a cell phone now, and read it, or scan it with a regular OCR scanner. Gone are the days of luging around a million pounds of Braille--now a meg or two of memory on a laptop or in a flash card and all my books are at my fingertips.

A common misconception is that blind person = musician. Not all of us make music, but for those of us who do, the days of being relegated to the studio or stage and bared from the control room are history. Thanks to David Pinto and Dancing Dots, we are now able to engineer and produce as quickly and proficiently as anyone else.

This accesability extends to almost every field. In medicine, in science, in politics, in law, retail, engineering and mathematics, there are blind people advancing the limits of what is possible every day.

Growing up, my dearest wish was to become a veterinarian. With advances in technology, that goal is probably attainable for an ambicious blind person today, or it soon will be. If, in a few years, your surgeon, president or police officer is blind, don’t be surprised.

It just proves there is no speed limit on ability.

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.