Infographic created by Australian illustrator, cartoonist and writer Megan J. Herbert.

A week from Saturday, the PDX Vox groups will perform their songs at the annual Fall Showcase. The show will be packed with intricate vocal arrangements that have been learned over 12 weeks of preparation. And this highly anticipated event will last a little over an hour.

People who have never sung with PDX Vox or participated in a music ensemble might be surprised to learn how many hours it takes to make that one golden hour possible. The multi-step song selection process. The weekly 2-hour group classes. The weekend all-group rehearsals. The regular practice time each singer dedicates to learning their parts, memorizing their lyrics, and securing their choreography steps. Then there's the time that the instructors put into arranging the songs, preparing for the rehearsals, sending song notes and recordings to their students each week. So much work under the surface!

Leonard Cohen famously wrote countless drafts of his songs, including “Hallelujah.” The complete version of that song has 15 verses.

The work that is shared with an audience is a small fraction of the work required behind the scenes. Most of the process is invisible, and it can even seem invisible to the creator at times. It is too easy to minimize the efforts we put into practicing, trying out ideas, building skills on an instrument or with a pen, or writing terrible first drafts. In a product-driven world, It can seem pointless when these efforts seem to be bringing little to no progress.

An early draft of Ulysses by James Joyce. The author used a different colored crayon each time he went through a draft, incorporating notes into his multiple reviews of the piece.

I've been a writing musician for a long time, and I still need reminders that a messy process comes with the territory. The road is almost always long, nonlinear, and littered with embarrassing attempts to make something worth sharing. But this is the artist's way! Creativity is not the same thing as productivity, as much as I wish it were. There are no shortcuts. There are no guarantees that I'll have a product in the end.

A page from Lin-Manuel Miranda's songwriting notebook. This is an early draft of "My Shot," from the show Hamilton. It took Miranda a year to write the final version of the song, and 7 years to complete the musical.

But the rewards are there on the path, if I look around for them along the way. I clumsily practice a scale on my bass for 6 days, then I manage it with a little more fluidity on the seventh. I write a song that hits a dead-end, but then I salvage the chord progression from it a year later and write something that sparkles. I sing a soprano part on Thursday nights for 12 weeks, and my low alto voice eventually stretches to cover the part without too much strain. Progress is slow but usually happens, if I stay the course and don't expect instant results. And even if progress doesn't materialize, I've dedicated myself to work that might be invisible, but is still good for my head and heart. I'm happier on the path than not, regardless of where it leads.

Invisible Work in 2023!

U.S. Navy Seabees Bridge, over the Connecticut River between New Hampshire and Vermont. October 2021.

I'm committing to doing more creative work in the New Year, and I'd love for you to join me! Two ways to do this:

1. Write a Song in 4 Weeks: I'm offering a 4-week songwriting class on Wednesday evenings in January, on Zoom. 7:00 - 8:30pm, starting Jan 4th. Register here.

2. 1:1 Creativity Coaching: I've opened up more time in my calendar for individual creative coaching, as well as music lessons. We can start with a free 30-minute consult to get started and see whether it's a good fit. You can sign up for a time slot here.

PDX Vox Fall Showcase

We'd love to have you join us for the upcoming show! It's not a holiday show, but it's definitely a festive celebration of all the fantastic a cappella music we've been learning since September.

When: Saturday, December 10th, 3:00 - 4:30 pm

Where: Central Lutheran Church, 1820 NE 21st Ave., Portland

Details:
$5-10 donation
Masks are optional for performers. We're requesting that audience members wear masks.

The Tuesday group performing a practice concert in November.

Today marks a big day for post-pandemic PDX Vox. Members will gather this afternoon for a singing retreat, learning songs that all 4 groups will have in common. It's a fun tradition that highlights the mission of the a cappella program, to build community through music. Sadly, I won't be part of the celebration, as I'm out of town for a family event, but I know that Aaron, Alison, Hannah and Steven have an engaging plan in store, as always.

On a personal level, I haven’t been living the creative life nearly as much as I want. Or nearly as much as I preach, in my teaching, coaching and social interactions. It’s been a hectic couple of months, wearing several hats that require me to be organized, analytical, disciplined and watching the calendar and clock. I’ve also been asked to show up and provide support for my family more than usual.

Don’t get me wrong. In some ways, in spite of everything, I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. I feel useful, needed, and smart. I’m solving problems that the people around me care about. At the end of the day, I'm satisfied that I’ve checked lots of items off my list. I’m ringing the bells that I can ring and putting my energy into where it can do some good.

And. A piece of me is missing. You know the piece. That creative part that makes life sparkle and feel worth living, in spite of everything. 

Fortunately, while I was packing for a recent trip to show up for an aforementioned family member, I grabbed my copy of Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. When I first read this breezy book back in 2015, it seemed like a more whimsical version of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, the bible of my artistic awakening. I enjoyed it, but it didn't feel like new territory for me.

As I re-read the book on the plane and throughout my trip, Gilbert's words felt like the medicine I needed.

Big Magic is chock full of wisdom for creative folks, but these are the 6 nuggets that especially spoke to me at this juncture:

1.   Creative living is broad. It isn’t only art-making. It’s "the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you."  And it's "a life that's driven more strongly by curiosity than fear."

2.  The process is the best part. “What you produce is not necessarily sacred. What is sacred is the time that you spend working on the project.”

3.  There will never be enough. Throughout history, "most individuals have never had enough time, resources, support, patronage, or reward. Yet still they persist in creating, because they care and they are called to be makers."

4. You must be smart about providing for yourself. “To claim you are too creative to think about financial questions is to infantilize yourself (which is) demeaning to your soul.”

5. Do it because you like it. "You are not required to save the world with your creativity. Your art doesn't have to be original. It also doesn't have to be important. Creating is a gift to the creator." 

6. Engage in stubborn gladness. Gilbert opens the book with a story about poet Jack Gilbert, to whom she was not related but professionally connected. He wrote, “We must risk delight. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world.” Jack told his students that they must live their most creative lives as a means of resistance - a timeless message for coping with the larger struggles we face.

Bathroom Surveillance, or Vanity Eye by Martha Rosler

Big Magic reminds me that I'm not alone in trying to keep my creative life going while taking care of business in its many forms. There will never be enough time. Bills will always need to be paid. Loved ones will need care. And more broadly, Democracy must be saved. Justice must be pursued. The planet must be healed. We all have a long to-do list.

And the same time, the Gilberts help me see how risky it is to lean into productivity and practical matters, and to rate my day by the checkmarks on that to-do list, even if those to-do's feel noble and necessary. It places my sense of curiosity, wonder and delight on the margins, to the point where they seem pointless. But I know from experience that the deepest pleasures sit on those margins and light up the rest of the day. They give me the strength to persist, in spite of everything.

For now, I'm keeping my creative candle burning by writing a short poem every night before bedtime. It doesn't feel like a lot, but it's a habit that delights me every evening. And who knows? It might turn into something bigger. Then again, the Big Magic is in the process.

Show Some Stubborn Gladness at this Month's Song Party!

Spring is on the way, and I'll be leading a song party to celebrate!  

When: Thursday, March 24th, 7-9pm 
Where: Common Ground Church, 2828 SE Stephens St.
What Songs:

• "Pompeii" by Bastille

• "Make You Feel by Love" by Bob Dylan and covered famously by Adele

Cost: $25. 

Soon after you register, you'll receive an invite to a Dropbox folder with sheet music and sound files, in case you want to check out the parts ahead of time. I'll have paper copies of the sheet music to give you at the event. 

First-timers are especially welcome, but I always love to see Vox members past and present as well. See you there!

From Seawalls: Boston Artists for Oceans 2020 by Silvia Lopez Chavez.

It's that time of year when we spend many hours in the dark. The long, cold nights provide the chance to enjoy cozy indoor activities. It can also be a tough time, with the struggle of staying warm, getting through the holidays with its mix of emotions and expectations, and keeping that inner light shining when sunshine is in short supply.

Mural in downtown Durham, New Hampshire

Looking for the bright spots is a habit that can help us thrive in the winter and enhance our lives in general. But as much as I believe this, my mind often puts up resistance. It tells me that I'm putting my head in the sand, letting my guard down, and ignoring serious problems that require attention and action.

Focusing on the bright spots takes effort and creative energy. Our brain naturally zooms in on threats, troubles and bad news. Our negativity bias is designed to protect us, but when it goes into overdrive - which it does in large part because it's exploited for profit in our culture - we're in a state of perpetual stress. And this actually impairs our ability to solve problems effectively.

Focusing on the bright spots is not avoidance. It keeps our minds healthy by reducing stress hormones and releasing "happy hormones." It flexes our brains to recognize the resources and opportunities that are available to us, and it enables us to see more possibilities and solutions.

One specific form of bright-spotting is to approach change with a sense of curiosity rather than dread. Our relationship with change is a crucial factor in building resilience and facing the future, which is inevitably uncertain. Change is hard. Change is also essential for growth, evolution, and improvement.

I've learned this lesson about embracing change from the artists I admire most - the ones who actually welcome uncertainty as creative juice for their work. They see uncertainty as the path to creating something new, exciting, even genre-bending. No two performances are same, even when the setlist or the script doesn't change. Songs, stories, and paintings-in-progress often take on a life of their own as the makers work on completing them. Improvisation and freestyle are core aspects of music, theatre, dance, and comedy. The work can't soar unless the artist can move with the moment and loosen the reins of control.

Nike of Samothrace with Golden Wing by Martha R. Pappas, 2001

In the spirit of bringing more light into the New Year, I encourage you to think on these questions:

• What is something I learned in 2021 that will help me in the New Year?

• How can I turn bright-spotting into a daily habit?

• How can I stay curious in 2022?

• What kind of activity can I do this winter, where I can enjoy the process and embrace the uncertainty of how it will turn out?

Music for the First Night

May this playlist brighten your days and nights as we move into 2022.

Get Back in Touch with your Artistic Side!

I'm offering an updated version of my Artistic Pathfinding class in January. Whatever your art form or your commitment level, this class can help you tune into a creative mindset and make more time and space for your artistic life.

The class will combine readings, activities, and discussions to help you move into an artistic practice that works with your current situation and goals. I'll provide some prompts and supportive accountability so that you can make a plan and take positive steps toward a more fulfilling creative life. Both new and returning participants are welcome.

Dates: Wednesday evenings 7-8 pm, January 5th - 26th.
Tuition: $100
Location: Meetings are on Zoom.
More details are here.