I didn’t say my blogging would be weekly now did I?
Years ago just before the pandemic hit I was gripped by a crazed music making. I’d always written songs to express myself, in fact as soon as I learnt basic chords as an 8 year old with a guitar which I could barely get my arm around, I wrote my own songs. While I did learn covers I realised almost immediately that I got more out of using the guitar to accompany myself writing and singing something which I’d made. I could conjure a piece of me in a form outside of myself which I could (painfully) share with others (if I closed my eyes and pretended they weren’t there- that performance anxiety was realll even then).
Before the pandemic I’d trained as an Occupational Therapist and was going through a sort of self imposed practical phase of my life. I thought “Well, you don’t need creativity anymore now you’re a real grown up lady- it doesn’t get life done does it?!” I packed away my guitar for years and didn’t even think about it. If I felt creative urges I maybe did some baking or made a Christmas card but I essentially closed myself off from my own creativity- thinking it was pointless; useless; ineffectual.
Reader, I was wrong.
Distracting Picture of Bert, who turned 3 recently.
Grandma story time
I am not a visual artist but my Grandma, who I was very close to, was an artist who painted landscapes mostly. She’s not with us anymore but the relationship we had shaped me vitally. She always encouraged me to make music and while I didn’t relate to watercolours and she didn’t relate to writing songs on guitar, we shared a need for creative expression which I didn’t realise was integral to my being until I shut it off.
I have things which belonged to my grandma but I came to realise, it’s also incredibly special to have pieces of her art because they are representations of her as an artist, as a creative being, not just a mother or grandma. They are a legacy of sorts. After I lost my Grandma I thought about the disconnection from my own creativity (not immediately, I was crying and eating cake, obviously). I considered what I might leave behind and pondered what creative footprint I wanted to leave on the world- if any- and if I did, how would I go about that?
Did I want my imaginary grandkids to be sifting through ancient hard drives or Iphone11’s in 2086 trying to find a sense of who I was, what kind of music I made or what I was going through in 2020?
Or did I want to leave something I’d chosen, something finished and available - like a painting in a frame- which captures a moment in time- something which only I could have made?
The Malvern Hills where my Grandma lived and painted
Yes I’m on a journey 😏
Going back to the beginning of this blog, that led me on a journey (I did say) of firstly making songs the only way I knew how- on my guitar, performing at open mic nights, making my family listen to my “shows” during the pandemic and asking them to write detailed feedback on each song (sorry, family). Then, later a strong realisation hit that the varied music I listened to and liked didn’t sound like the singer songwriter-esque music that was coming out of me and if I wanted to capture the ideas I heard in my head, I needed different tools to make something else. Which led me to learning music production online in the midst of the pandemic and some pretty debilitating social anxiety.
There were many moments where I had to make a leap and share something and every time it was incredibly difficult but over time, context helped. eg when you do one, the next one is a tiny bit easier, and the next and then you might see a progression from when you started to now- a growth in your skills but also in your mindset- which empowers you to keep going. When you realise you are on a journey of progress and development rather than having to get it all right first time it can be super helpful if you are prone to perfectionist and/or all or nothing thinking.
And just to keep it realsies, someone once gave me that exact feedback- like “your track is ok if you’re on a journey, I guess?” as if that was a bad thing. Little did they know that if you’ve been stuck for what feels like all your life because of undiagnosed ADHD+, when someone recognises that you’re (anywhere) on the pathway to where you want to get to, you’re kind of like: FUCK YEAH! CAN’T BELIEVE I’M DOING IT! LOOK AT WHAT I’VE MADE- THIS IS CRAZY! So yes, I am still on a journey and I’m ok with that taaaaa.
I’ve super duper been that person who is paralysed in inaction- I’ve worried about what every possible person could think or worried about whether anyone would care; whether it was good enough or if I should even bother. Me, learning to create things and finish them- to the best of my current ability- has led me and you, here.
Would this blog be better if I took more time over it? Probably, yes- but case in point, it will never not be fascinating to be allowed to peek into the mind of another human will it? And to try to understand- how do I get from here to there? We all love a journey don’t we, eh?
It’s not just about the big finish
Like lots of neurodivergent creatives, I’ve got countless things I’ve made, in various stages and it’s important to state- you don’t need to finish everything. If you are being creative, you are an artist and even if your creativity is dormant, it is still part of your identity. I believe our wellbeing is improved through doing what is meaningful to us- if it brings you joy, in and of itself, in the moment- without an audience- that is everything.
Borrowed anecdote time
I hope my script writing group leader doesn’t mind me sharing this story, but he mentioned in one of our session recently about another group supporting older writers and how he’d met a lady who had started off quietly in the group but had eventually shared a hand written novel she had written over several years- in fact she was working on her second. She’d said she’d felt creatively blocked before attending the group but being part of it had made her feel revitalised and able to share what she had previously made and was working on now- this gal was in her 80’s. She also said she’d felt crushed by being rejected as a younger writer and it had stopped her… but it looked like there was no stopping her now.
Aaand back to me because… Diva?
With my own music, what’s important to me is that I’ve had an idea or an experience that I’ve managed to mould into a song and at some point I decide it holds enough of what I wanted to express to be released into the wild. Usually by then I already know what I’d do differently. I’ve got other things I want to say and make. But it still feels better to me to have finished, imperfect things than it felt to have all this potential and nowhere to put it.
I hope what I’ve made resonates with people because I’m a human being with feelings. Perhaps I made it for me and I shared it for me… and you? But I don’t live on that hope- not because I don’t value other’s opinions but because I did my bit- the bit only I could do and what you think of it is up to you now.
One of the biggest wins for me is that I have songs which are snapshots of me over time and which individually mean a lot to me as I grow and learn more about myself. As a collection they signal to me: I am an artist, I make things, I finish them and share them. This is especially important to me because for a long time I didn’t finish anything and didn’t realise how deeply this was entrenched in my identity and what I believed about myself until I really, really needed to finish something and had to unpick it all.
Now I know how to finish things, even rubbish things! And baby, knowing what you are capable of is better than not knowing. There is a power in committing to shaping a piece of art, calling it done and sharing it even if it is only with one person. And while being able to do that in your 80’s is admirable, the other best time is... right now.
So, make it for you and share it for you too. One day it might lead you to post a really amazing blog! (like this one, just incase that wasn’t clear?).
