Because my categories are not just different hats, they’re diverging selves. You didn’t know this about me, but the man performing these songs on stage is not the same person who wrote them, and I (the guy writing this blog) am neither of them. Sometimes we let the clown out of his cage and things get silly. He’s the one with a penchant for strawberry jam.
Mostly, these different people get along. They are encouraging and enjoy one another’s company. They laugh at José’s (the clown) jokes, pick up after one another, do the dishes in a timely manner, and approve of each other’s taste in friends.
Sometimes it’s not as easy. For example, last year, José stuttered out a dirty joke which was not just in poor taste, but a good ten seconds too late. The rest of us didn’t let him out of his cage for a week. It embarrassed Joe Bunting (the one who writes songs) so much that he couldn’t write anything for a month. He sat in front of his computer for days, huddled over his guitar like he was constipated (literally and figuratively), playing the joke in his head over and over… it was devastating to watch.
There are many selves whom I don’t even know because they come and go so infrequently. I saw Joseph Harold (he’s very organized, a good planner) last weekend, but he came and went so quickly I hardly had time to wave.
Shakespeare was right when he said life is a stage. It takes different actors to play different roles. The best times are when the actors know their lines and are playing their parts well, but when one person messes up, the whole company suffers. Then you don’t want to be in the audience, much less in the performance.
Do you know what frame of mind you have to be in to work your best?
When I’m focusing on website stuff like html, mysql, databases, code, and all those fun little details, I have a really hard time writing.
When I’m working with recording equipment, setting up mikes, playing with my guitar pedals, or untangling lots and lots of cords, I have a hard time coming up with new songs.
Before you’re born your brain has billions and billions of neurons. By the time you reach adulthood, most of them are dead. The strange thing about the human brain is as neurons die, we get smarter.
In the same way, the more focused you are on one thing, the easier it is to focus on that thing. When my brain is in website maintenance mode I can’t write. I have to derail website Joe and put him on the writing track. When I’m in sound equipment mode I can’t compose songs. I have to change my mode if I want to achieve my goals.
It takes discipline. It takes a lot of mental energy, and just being in website maintenance mode or sound equipment mode makes it that much harder to be great writer.
What about you? Do you know what mode you have to be in to acheive your goals? Do you know how to get into that frame of mind easily and consistently? What are the things you are doing that take you out of that mode?
I’m doing some blog logistics today. For my blogging friends, here’s what I’ve been reading to improve my blog today:
- Men with Pens. In their series Drive by Shooting Sundays they ruthlessly ripping into people’s blog design. If you only have time to read one, read this one, it’s my favorite.
- Seth Godin’s blog has very crisp clean design and is what I looked at when I first started blogging 87 posts ago. Go to his blog and click on his head. What a tripper.
- I thought long and hard about Darren’s idea about writing “pillar” articles that can attract a variety of readers. He defines pillar articles as long tutorials, but I think they can be any longer article (500+ words) that can be useful to a large audience. What do you think about them? Darren’s article might take a little time for you to sift through, but I found it helpful. You can find it here.
- If you’re just starting or want to do a few things to improve your blog, check out the guide, Blogging for Beginners by Problogger. Some good stuff, but it’s hard to know how to apply their tips to every blog.
While reading these things, especially the Drive by Shooting Sundays series, I finally decided to make the switch from Blogger to Wordpress. Blogger has some annoying features, especially the lack of trackback and the unfriendly comment section. I tried to get around it with Haloscan, but I haven’t been very impressed with that either. Blogger has been good to me. I wouldn’t have gotten into blogging without it, but it’s time to upgrade though. I’ll be moving to www.joebunting.com soon.
I hate doing this stuff. All the research, making changes, the logistics. It wears me out. I’d much rather delegate it to someone else, but right now, it’s falling on my shoulders.
I do like talking about it and helping people with their blogs. If you have a question or want my advice just leave a comment and make sure to type your email in the form. I’ll get back to you quick.
It’s Friday. Woot! What does that mean?
It’s time to exclude. Ruthlessly. Today we are asking all owners of the Hummer to please, for you own safety, leave.
We’ve done extensive studies into the connection between taste in cars and taste in music. The results were very surprising. Here’s what we’ve found.
- (Used) Volvo Station Wagon owners have an 86% chance of enjoying our music. The chances are raised to 93% if the paint is chipping and it hasn’t been washed in a month or two. Even more encouraging, if the car has a diesel engine converted to running on cooking oil, 99.7% of owners liked us.
- White Sedan owners have a 75% chance of enjoying our music. If the car is American the chances are lowered to 62%. If it’s a Toyota or a Honda, they’re raised to 84%. If it’s a Hyundai, they’re raised to a favorable 91%.
- BMW Mini owners by and large responded very well to our music, 82.3% likely to enjoy it.
- While listening to our song “Crash and Burn,” Several owners of raised Chevy Silverado w/ Monster Truck Wheels actually fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into telephone poles. Only 8% said they enjoyed it (7.5% of those may have been delirious from suffering major head trama)
- Chrysler Town and Country owners showed a surprising lack of interest in our music, with only 50% reporting that they liked it. Our expert sociologists have suggested that the results may be skewed because of the presence of tyranical children crying for The Wiggles in the back seats while their parents were trying to listen to our songs. Although we believe this data is skewed, we have chosen to include the data anyway for tracking purposes.
- Owners of Honda Civics were 66% likely to enjoy our songs. The number fell dramatically to 31% if they had installed any or all of the following: NOS, rear wing, 17+ in. wheels, Lamborghini doors, cold air intake, under glow, or lowered suspension.
- Unfortunately, we were never able to interview the Hummer owners. They were run over by the drivers of the converted diesel Volvos. They said that anyone who drives a Hummer deserved it for ruining the environment and causing Global Warming.
Thanks to everyone who participated. Oh and if you were injured during the survey, bill us.
But I have changed my mind and decided that I will never die. These roads might not last long, but mine are eternal.
I haven’t changed my mind at all and have decided to die anew each second. These roads might not last long, but mine never began.
I can throw moments as grass to the wind and drop time as flowers to death because I will look on that white orb for always. And I will never look at it again.
What will be the judgment a century hence concerning the lorded works of our favorite composers today? Inasmuch as nearly everything is subject to the changes of time, and - more’s the pity- the fashions of time, only that which is good and true will endure like a rock and no wanton hand will ever venture to defile it. Then, let every man do that which is right, strive with all his might towards the goal which can never be obtained, develop to the last breath the gifts with which the gracious Creator has endowed him, and never cease to learn. For life is short, art eternal.
Ludwig van Beethoven
Tuesday, January 3, 2006, Carpinteria, CA.
The guitar lessons helped. Exploring new chord shapes, new sounds. C Major 7. G Major 7. The dissonance in the brass wound strings which turns my thoughts to night. I feel profound. I feel alone, even as I’m surrounded by orange dreams.
The halogen track lights in my room throw tinges of pink on my desk and into the corners. It is bright and safe–clean, for once. Normally, there are papers with letters too far down the alphabet and piles of clothes on the floor, but now I can see the green carpet. I can think. I look at my window, but it’s covered by the black curtain of midnight. There is nothing to do but play guitar and think.
With no pre-conceived plan I start to sing over my new chords, and the words that come are uniquely my own. A piece of a song appears ex nihilo, whole for once, united with the music and not biting the bit to escape and fall out of rhythm and melody.
Do I know what I have? Do I know that this is The Beginning? That this will lead to more songs; and getting up in front of people that I don’t know; and silly shirts with my name on them; and feeling like I’m going to throw up all day before driving to Lompoc to play for four people. That I will play this song in bars, when I was underage and had to leave right after. That because of this I will play in coffee shops and make people sad, even while pointing them to hope and service and love. Do I know that this desperate plea for identity is The Beginning of grasping who I am?
I open Microsoft Word and type out the lyrics to a song I didn’t write, I don’t know who wrote, that is a gift and not something crafted. I did nothing but receive, and yet it is uniquely me. More me than I can even know now. Identity. Loneliness. Peace. Light/dark. Community.
You’ll laugh and cry
And die right here with me.
“Wait!” I think. “How am I going to remember this? What if I forget the words, the music, the melody? I’m screwed.” I’d written parts of songs before, typed it out on my computer, and then come back to it a week later with no clue what it sounded like.
It takes a few minutes before I figure out what to do.
I look at my little IBM laptop. Yep, it has an inboard mic, right on the top. I open up Windows Sound Recorder (by the way, this is the most ghetto way to record. Only suitable for songwriting purposes). I click the circle.
“Test One. Test Two. Testes.”
Play.
The speakers crackle and whisper. Joe says,
“Test One. Test Two. Testes.”
“Woah, my voice sounds really weird recorded.” I delete it, lengthen the amount of recording time from one to four minutes, and press record again.
C Maj 7. G maj 7.
You’ll laugh and cry
And die right here with me
And now, in the barest reality, I’m a recording artist. My orange dreams are pressing in, and the room is tinged with pink. I am in my home. I am a songwriter.
