Many ways to rock

I used to rock.

I started when I was eight years old and by the time I was fifteen I was busking in the streets of towns around Colorado with an impressive repertoire. Later came bands and tours, songwriting and recording. Venues grew larger and shows got more complex. One band even made to LA to showcase for record companies. We were pretty good (he said with a satisfied nod). As a vocalist I have received glowing reviews from major labels A&R guys, music magazines and newspapers.

In 2005 we opened for Smash Mouth at the Fiesta Bowl in Tempe, AZ. I remember getting off the stage after playing this show for thousands of people. I had given it my all. I had ‘left it all on the stage’ as they say, and I felt fantastic. It was a feeling I remember so well that I compare all other accomplishments to it. I considered myself lucky to have experienced such a thing and I doubted it would ever happen again. I was wrong.

Understand that at that time of my life all of my expression went into writing music. I had a writing partner that handled all of the lyrics. He was an award-winning poet with a degree in English and a very talented man, still is. I wrote the music, he wrote the lyrics. I never thought I could write, especially when faced with the challenge of being compared to such an educated and talented writer. So, I put all of my efforts into the music. Tha band of course contributed heavily as a band should. It’s a collaborative effort after all and we were all proud of what we did, but there was something missing. I didn’t even know it. In fact, it has taken me years to figure out.

Bear with me, there is a reason for all of this back story.

After many years of trying to make it in the music business and achieving only moderate success I left the band. My life up to that point was the band so this was a big change for me. After taking some time to chill out and take a breath (some call it a sabbatical) I found myself once again bursting with creative energy. I began writing music again but these songs needed words. Once I started rummaging around I found that I had a lot of them.. Soon the blank pages started to fill, first with lyrics, then with poems. It was around this time that my dad called me and told me that he’d written a book. I was stunned. I had never known the man to be a writer. My day job for all those years had been as a graphic designer so I helped him layout his book. Then it occurred to me: if my dad can do it, so can I.

I started thinking about what I wanted to say and eventually the story started to form. Soon I was typing away furiously, learning and researching not only my story but the ‘how to’ of writing. There were many stumbles along the way and many, many times I did not think I was good enough. I didn’t have an English degree and even though we had parted ways I would always be compared to my old writing partner; the genius, published poet. Still, I kept on. Winston Churchill’s words became a mantra. “Never surrender.” I continued submitting works, taking harsh and hurtful but oh so helpful criticism, and learning, learning and learning some more. Finally, I got a small piece published.

Ironically it was a poem. It was the universe saying, “You are good enough.” Dreams. Those dreams may not come true in the way you thought. They will most likely break your heart several if not many times. But if you never give up on them, they will put it back together better than you ever could have imagined. Dreams grow with you and as you grow and change, so do they.

There are many elements of this story that are crucial to the outcome. The first and most important to me is my partner. Without her I would never had the peace of mind, and contented heart to put the world on pause and kindle the creative fires again. Some people create better when life is blackest, I’m just the opposite, I need peace and pause.

I still play, write and record music and enjoy it very much, but my art is expressed as a writer. In music, a recording is a carefully crafted snapshot. The performance personalizes that recording. Unlike a song, stories and poems don’t need a single moment in which to come alive. They are always on fire, right under the cover of that book.

Never. Give. Up.