Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Into The Void

A friend of mine who is a gifted photographer recently sent me a link to a new project she has been working on. She said she felt good about it but was decidedly underwhelmed by the amount of people who had viewed it. She felt like she was posting her work into a void.

Which got me thinking about why one bothers with this stuff anyway. If we desire recognition, views, likes, subscriptions, advertising income... then we should all stick to making videos of kittens or stealing other people's work, apparently. A piece of art, or even an attempt at creating one, is and has always been a weighty investment of time, energy and emotion that merits a very low percentage rate of return. It doesn't even exist in the realm of Good vs. Bad, really; it's more like Right vs. Wrong. Right if it is the particular thing that the audience needs to experience at the time. Wrong if it is not.

This is very finicky territory to be operating in. As I get older and the last of my trumped-up sense of self-importance finally seems to be eroding, I am realizing that I probably got into all of this with the mistaken intention of being understood, an idea requiring an act of extreme reciprocity from an audience, most of whom are not particularly interested. I wanted to be mulled over and picked apart in the manner in which I had dissected all of my idols. But most people don't have time for that sort of thing. And probably shouldn't; they have their own lives to lead. So do I.

Another friend of mine, a musician, once said that when you make music you have to hang on to a shred of belief that it might possibly change the world. I am slightly embarrassed to say that I know exactly what she meant. Yes, I still like Bono. But the same idea could be applied to just about anything we do, intentional or unintentional, during any moment of any day. For example if, while driving my son to day care, I don't see a car pulling out in front of me and smash into it... I have probably changed the world a lot more than any of my songs ever will without even meaning to.

So when the need to be understood/liked/recognized/etc. ebbs away along with the notion that your work is somehow important, where do you go? I truly don't know. You just keep going. And going. We're all going to die sooner than we think, so why not leave a trail of tasty crumbs behind us? Good work. Good deeds. Good relationships that, hopefully, beget more good relationships. Pay it forward. What the fuck. Make the effort. We all have the ability to tap into a rich stream of goodness, to take from it, add to it. It will keep going a long time after we are gone; maybe our only job is to feed it, keep it healthy and brimming with life.

There are worse ways to spend your time.

BAMAKO

2 comments:

Nick Robinson said...

Where do you go? You make music that expresses your inner voice (or voices!), share it and if someone "out there" gets it, you feel good. You don't aim to influence or impress anyone.

You do whatever it takes to pay the bills so that you can continue make music without compromise.

You strive to weed out the obvious influences and create something that is uniquely "you".

That's what I try to do, anyway!

Blake said...

As a fellow songwriter, especially one who is also getting a bit older, I've been struggling with this same question. I'm glad you wrote this, as I was debating whether there's any point to finishing the song I have sitting around or if I should just tuck myself into an early bed and catch up on the latest episodes of Arrested Development. Now I know what I need to do- work on leaving a few more crumbs behind.