The Words Unspoken

In the wake of Robin Williams' death yesterday, my brother posted this article to his Facebook wall. In it, the author, a comedy writer himself, details why our culture has such a long, sad history of watching some of its favorite comedians kill themselves. To nutshell it, the author makes the case that the majority of hilarious people are using their comedic gifts as a shield: that something traumatic and/or humiliating happened to them at a young age and, in response to the sensitivity they developed in response to that event, they have discovered that making people laugh is a sure-fire defense against revealing their true selves to the people around them. Rather than broadcast who they really are to the world and risk almost certain disparagement, ridicule, and judgment, they instead project a version of themselves that people will embrace and accept. Alas, in many cases, the pressure of keeping up a false front while struggling privately with what seems like increasingly insurmountable odds gets the best of them and they choose death as an alternative to continuing on through a tortured and malfunctioning life.

I have no reason to doubt this writer's statements. So, let's shift gears for a second instead and contrast this reality with something different that has been gnawing at me for the last few weeks. I offer two examples.

Remembering Mr. Williams

Last night, after hearing about his death, I posted a collage to Instagram that featured snapshots of some of my favorite Robin Williams performances. In the tagline for the post, I thanked him for a lifetime of memories. I was not being hyperbolic.

I remember watching reruns of Mork and Mindyon the Nickelodeon network with my family when I was a child, perhaps as young as six or seven. Even at that early age, I understood, (to some level, at least - sarcasm and innuendo notwithstanding), the brilliance of Williams' performances and the genius of his comedy. It brings to mind how several toddlers I know adore the music of Harry Connick, Jr. (I know because I buy them the CDs and hear about it later from their parents). There is certainly something to be said for the beauty of an artistic gift that can speak to children as well as to adults, and Mr. Williams was bringing laughter into my life almost as far back as I can remember.

Note Pad: Legit

Legitimacy is borne only of time, influence, and God. Don't make the mistake of believing that because you are successful you are legitimate.

Milli Vanilli sold millions of records. Vincent van Gogh sold one painting.

'The Red Vineyard', the only sale of Van Gogh's life.

Get Good

This past weekend, I once again joined forces with Hillary Hand & The Roseliers for a one-of-a-kind performance.

The show was for attendees of a conference called Via Affirmativa hosted at the beautiful Glen Eyrie castle right here in Colorado Springs. As I understood things, our set was an unofficial opening to the conference weekend, which brings together artists of all different stripes - painters, musicians, photographers, sculptors, you name it - and seeks to inspire them all to be diligent in the pursuit of their artistic dreams as well as to infuse their creations with a depth of humanity, spirituality, and intellectual & emotional appeal. In short, they want to encourage artists to be good at what they do, serious about doing it, and even more serious about using their talents for the betterment of the world in which they live.

It was a very compelling evening.

First of all, we got to play in a castle.

Secondly, our performance was well-received by people who could've been particularly critical and disparaging had they chosen to be so - after all, it was a room full of artists.  Instead, they sat and listened to our music and responded to it in an overwhelmingly positive manner.

After the performance, though, Hillary was asked to take part in a brief interview in front of the audience. They asked her about her career, how the band came to be, and why she does what she does. Somewhere along the way a question was asked that I myself got a chance to answer along with her - a question regarding the current state of our culture in regard to music and why people don't seem to listen or seriously engage with it anymore. Just what, the questioner wondered, are we as musicians supposed to do to help instill the idea that music is more than background noise during a shopping trip or workout session? What can we do to get people to listen again?

An encouraging word.

This is a few months old now, but somehow it recently made it into my own sphere of consciousness:

I don't know what precipitated this little editorial from David Ackert, but I certainly appreciated it when I saw it. I further appreciated this piece by Dave Carlock, in which he references Ackert's couple of paragraphs and then responds to a commenter attempting to rain a bit on the parade. I'll share this excerpted highlight with you:

The point is that musicians push through an incredible amount of uncertainty, risk and adversity to bare their souls and give something to every community that they play in, to every person who can hear them. That makes them unique, that makes them valuable to the human race, if for no other reason than their motivation isn’t only dollars.

And then, only a few days ago, this piece from Seth Godin's cool blog:

You are brave.

Such a generous soul, someone who doesn't hesitate to leap when others shrink in fear. Your work means so much to you and to the people you share it with, we can't help but be inspired at the way you make your magic.

You're a warrior in the service of joy and you never seem to stop standing up and speaking up and doing your very best work.

Sometimes, a particular audience doesn't deserve you. But that doesn't matter in the long run, because of your relentless generosity in sharing your gift.

I can't wait to see your next work, and the one after that.

Every once in awhile it's good  to feel like somebody out there gets it - not only gets it, but understands it, supports it, encourages it, & rallies around it. In the world in which we live, "music" is usually associated in people's minds with stardom, fame, wealth, and all the other Hollywood/celebrity nonsense that goes along with them. Some of us, though, while still retaining dreams of playing Red Rocks and Wembley Arena, really do love performing music for people and would love just to make a living doing it. For some of us, it's about something other than having your picture plastered all over People magazine or getting to date supermodels.