AppleBoy Steve Jobs knew the not-so-secret secret to creativity:
“Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesize new things. And the reason they were able to do that was that they’ve had more experiences… Unfortunately, that’s too rare a commodity. A lot of people in our industry haven’t had very diverse experiences…The broader one’s understanding of the human experience, the better design we will have.”
This concept applies even if you aren’t in the design realm.
Get out of your bubble. Get into something new. Read a lot – from a variety of sources.
It’s fine to dabble, and be a dilettante. You’re filling the creative well.
There’s an old Hollywood joke that pithily sums up an actor’s full-circle career arc:
Who is John Doe? Get me John Doe! Get me a John Doe-type. Get me a young John Doe. Who is John Doe?
There’s a similar arc for most musicians, and it can be based on their transportation:
Drive the van. Ride in the van. Ride in the bus. Ride on the plane. Ride on the bus. Ride in the van. Drive the van.
There was a big ol’ bus parked outside the tiny Green Lantern Bar in Lexington, Kentucky last night. MJ Lenderman is blowing up. And rightfully so — his music is great.
Six years ago, he was scooping ice cream at a shop in Asheville to support his musical efforts, which included playing guitar for a band called Wednesday (whose ’23 album Rat Saw God is one of my faves from that year).
Three years ago, he released an album called Boat Songs, and got in a van to do a tour that included tiny clubs like the Green Lantern Bar. By the end of the year, Boat Songs hadn’t move a lot of units, but it garnered critical acclaim.
Wikipedia: Lenderman contributed guitar and vocals to the album Tiger’s Blood by Waxahatchee, released in March 2024, and was listed as featured guest artist on the album’s lead single, “Right Back To It”. In March 2024, Lenderman performed “Right Back To It” with Waxahatchee on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.[14] Lenderman’s next album, Manning Fireworks, was released in September 2024.
The next leg of his U.S. tour will be at larger venues. And good luck getting tickets!
The Green Lantern is a tiny dive bar. But it’s very musician-friendly.
It would’ve been very easy for MJ Lenderman and his five-piece band to play a larger venue in Lexington on his current tour. Or skip Lexington altogether, for bigger clubs in bigger cities, for a bigger paycheck. (Diesel gas for the bus ain’t cheap.) Instead, he booked two shows at the Green Lantern.
I was lucky enough to be at last night’s show, thanks to my friend and neighbor Frank, who got tickets as soon as they went on sale… and before Lendermania (yeah, I’m gonna trademark that one!) reached a fever pitch.
Clearly the folks at the bar made an impression on MJ. And he was paying it backward. Because he knows what two sold-out shows means to a small club. And he still remembers what it’s like to scoop ice cream while following your dream.
“Once music and work and money all become the same thing, it gets hard to do it casually. But that was the reason I was able to do anything meaningful in the first place,” he admits. “You can see that through my whole life, just being able to go to a friend’s house and make something and not worry about what it is.”
My dear friend LJ (okay, his real name is John but I never call him that) turned 61 yesterday. For his birthday, he got… surgery. He had a cancerous brain tumor removed last May and has been an absolute champion since then, through the radiation and the oral chemo and the testing regimen. Zapping. Poking. Prodding. Like water off a duck’s back for LJ, who has been both a rock and a rock star.
His latest scan showed some “activity” in the area where the tumor was removed, so the docs went back in yesterday, did a biopsy while he was sedated, and found out it was a recurrence/regeneration of the cancer. So they removed that, and put in some radiation tiles that will zap the area from the inside.
As birthday presents go, “surgery to remove cancer from my cranium” has gotta be pretty low on the wish list. But knowing how LJ is, his reaction won’t be “it sucks” but rather “it is what it is.” He’s been steadfast in his approach: day by day.
One of my favorite musicians, Jesse Malin, calls it “PMA” – Positive Mental Attitude. LJ’s PMA is off-the-charts good. Radiation tiles are one weapon to fight the cancer, but we should never discount the power of PMA. And LJ has other weapons in his beat-cancer arsenal too. I listed them in my post about LJ last year, and they still hold true today:
LJ is in great shape.
He has a family that loves him… and grandkids who adore him.
His faith is strong.
His support network is deep and wide — relatives, neighborhood friends, church friends, even a bunch of knuckleheads from college.
[Phil, LJ, Brian, Dubbatrubba, and Art – Uber driver Tom wasn’t able to attend, but his wife Jodi was there.]
I wouldn’t wish cancer upon my worst enemy. But I do wish that all of us could channel LJ’s PMA. He knows quite profoundly what most of us spend a lifetime ignoring: the present is a present.
He didn’t choose cancer. But he’s choosing to continue to live his life in an exemplary way. With serenity, not anxiety. With love, not anger. With gratitude, not bitterness. In joy, not sorrow.
What I said last year still holds true:
If anyone can beat the odds — and people DO beat the odds — it’s LJ.
We hope. We pray. We believe in miracles. And we cherish the time we get to spend with him.
We don’t know what the future holds. That’s not just true for LJ. It’s true for all of us.
This short essay by Mandy Brown has 777 words. (I counted… OK, Microsoft Word did.) I’m lucky it was brought to my attention by one of the many newsletters I try to read each week/month. (I wish I could remember which one… )
The essay is about dealing with uncertainty. And how uncertainty is the only thing that makes life possible.
Our awareness of life, of its great variety and beauty and possibility, emerges out of uncertainty. Awareness, that sense of being awake to the world, is necessary only because we live in uncertainty. If we knew what was to come, we would have no need for sensemaking, no need to be alert to what’s around us, no need to ever open our eyes and ears and arms to each other.
This is, perhaps, the great paradox of modern technologies: in a world without uncertainty, we would need only be aware of our screens—nothing else would matter. But in the deeply uncertain world we do live in, we cling to those screens because they promise the one thing we can never have.
We want answers, but life delivers questions. Ms. Brown’s advice at the end of the essay makes a ton of sense:
Take small steps.
Be ready to shift directions.
Anticipate surprise.
Trust in creativity.
Go with friends.
Our power is not measured in weapons or cash but in humans; our power is with and through each other.
Life may be uncertain, but I’m certain about that!
This is NOT a music-related post. (I have to post that disclaimer, as two of the four regular readers of this blog don’t like my musical musings.)
Michelle Zauner is the leader of the band Japanese Breakfast. I’m a huge fan. (Their new album comes out soon!)
But she also wrote a very moving memoir about loss – her book Crying in H Mart. When her mother was diagnosed with cancer, Michelle left her East Coast band and flew back to her childhood home in Eugene, Oregon, to take care of her mom during her final months. And as a Korean-American who lost not just her mom but her connection to her Korean heritage, Michelle feels the grief quite intensely.
I can sorta-kinda relate. I’m not mixed race like Michelle, but my mom was first generation Italian-American. And when she passed away, I lost that connection to the Italian part of my heritage. I was lucky enough to spend some quality time with my Italian aunts (Rosetta and Inez) growing up, but chances are my feelings of “Italian-ness” would be much stronger had my mom not passed away when I was so young.
I hadn’t thought about that a lot, until I listened to Michelle speak about her book at Cincinnati’s Mercantile Library earlier this week.
I found myself getting a bit misty-eyed when she talked about the sense of not just maternal loss but also cultural loss. And I started to think that I’m not just a fan of Michelle’s band, but also a kindred spirit with her.
Then. later in the week, I saw this quote:
It is essential for us to welcome our grief, whatever form it takes. When we do, we open ourselves to our shared experiences in life. Grief is our common bond. Opening to our sorrow connects us with everyone, everywhere.
— Francis Weller
Yes, I’m a kindred spirit with Michelle Zauner. And with you. And with everyone who has suffered loss… which is “everyone, everywhere.”
Grateful Living has a monthly series called “Grateful Gatherings.” As fate would have it, the focus for March is “Grief & Gratefulness.” Here’s another Francis Weller quote:
“Gratitude is the other hand of grief. It is the mature person who welcomes both. To deny either reality is to slip into chronic depression or to live in a superficial reality. Together they form a prayer that makes tangible the exquisite richness of life in this moment. Life is hard and filled with suffering. Life is also a most precious gift, a reason for continual celebration and appreciation.”
Amen to that!
The Grief & Gratefulness resources are here. Should you find yourself crying in H Mart, or in the Mercantile Library, or anywhere, really, they could come in handy.
The Mercantile Library is an absolute gem in the Queen City. It’s been open since 1835, but recently completed a remodel that adds much more cool space to what already was the city’s best haven for “readers, writers, and thinkers” as their website says. Michelle Zauner this past Tuesday, Curtis Sittenfeld this past Friday… with Timothy Egan, Crystal Wilkinson, Ada Limón, Colson Whitehead, Kaveh Akbar, and Lauren Groff still on tap this year, along with several other authors, plus book clubs, poetry readings, yoga, and so much more.
It’s a membership library, but the low cost would be worth it just to hang out in their space, and membership gets you early (and often free) access to the author events.
I’ve been doing some digital spring cleaning, and I encourage you to do the same.
WaPo may be sorry to see me go, but I call b.s. on the “absolutely nothing has changed…”
There are the two recent developments that made me unsubscribe.
First was the news from Jan. 4th:
And then the final blow (because it blows) came this week:
I agree with Amanda Katz, a former member of the opinion team at the Washington Post who stepped down from her role at the end of 2024. She called the change:
“an absolute abandonment of the principles of accountability of the powerful, justice, democracy, human rights, and accurate information that previously animated the section in favor of a white male billionaire’s self-interested agenda”
My $40 a year won’t put a dent in Bozos wallet. But I’m not gonna stand idly by while the free press gets gutted by a guy who sells trinkets and baubles (mostly from China).
And here’s a bit more spring cleaning you can do, courtesy of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver.
Instructions are here. (I should’ve spelled out the URL, as it’s “JohnOliverWantsYourRatErotica.”)
I’m rarely on Facebook, but every little bit helps!
Finally, there’s the non-elected, non-citizen who is running our country. (Oops, sorry for the typo, I meant “ruining” not “running.”)
Getting rid of the Twit is a bit more difficult (so much for “efficiency”) as you’ll have to request YOUR data, then wait for an email with a download link. But instructions are here.
It’s chump change to the oligarchs. But dollars are the only noise they hear. And if we all do it, maybe democracy still has a chance.
Here’s a no-cost way to add joy and wonder to your life, courtesy of psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi:
“Try to be surprised by something every day. It could be something you see, hear, or read about. Stop to look at the unusual car parked at the curb, taste the new item on the cafeteria menu, actually listen to your colleague at the office. How is this different from other similar cars, dishes or conversations? What is its essence? Don’t assume that you already know what these things are all about, or that even if you knew them, they wouldn’t matter anyway. Experience this one thing for what it is, not what you think it is. Be open to what the world is telling you. Life is nothing more than a stream of experiences — the more widely and deeply you swim in it, the richer your life will be.”
Stop. Look. Listen. Taste. Smell. Feel. Your senses are working, but it’s time to get them working overtime.
Fun fact: the letters in “Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi” can be rearranged to spell “hilly haystacks minimize”… hmm, I think I need to keep working on the whole “stream of experiences” thing.
This post from Scott Galloway is a year and a half old, but it’s worth flagging (again, perhaps). My favorite excerpt:
Add this to the list of ways social media is ruining society: It’s skewing our perception of the relative value of listening vs. speaking. Social media is a contact sport in which “takes” are the game ball. It’s taught us (incorrectly) that all our opinions matter. Worse, that everyone needs to hear and comment on them.
He’s spot-on. You don’t get any sort of clout (or Klout, back in the day) for just reading something and not weighing in.
The delta between hearing and listening is attention, being present. This is difficult in the age of devices, but respect is what makes the other party feel heard.
Scott offers four tips for lending someone our ears.
Not speaking up is easier said (unsaid?) than done. It takes practice. But the payoff for fewer words is more empathy.
This was published in 1991. Seems appropriate for our times.
THE CURE OF TROY – by Seamus Heaney
Human beings suffer, they torture one another, they get hurt and get hard. No poem or play or song can fully right a wrong inflicted or endured.
The innocent in gaols beat on their bars together. A hunger-striker’s father stands in the graveyard dumb. The police widow in veils faints at the funeral home.
History says, Don’t hope on this side of the grave. But then, once in a lifetime the longed for tidal wave of justice can rise up, and hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change on the far side of revenge. Believe that a further shore is reachable from here. Believe in miracles and cures and healing wells.
Call the miracle self-healing: The utter self-revealing double-take of feeling. If there’s fire on the mountain Or lightning and storm And a god speaks from the sky
That means someone is hearing the outcry and the birth-cry of new life at its term.
It means once in a lifetime That justice can rise up And hope and history rhyme.
We could use some rhyme time right about now.
But then, once in a lifetime the longed for tidal wave of justice can rise up, and hope and history rhyme. So hope for a great sea-change on the far side of revenge. Believe that a further shore is reachable from here. Believe in miracles and cures and healing wells.
I do believe that a further shore is reachable from here. Especially if we all join hands.
Hearing Seamus read his poem is like music. And here’s a bit more musical hope:
That nothing grows on, but time still goes on Through each laugh of misery
Everybody’s gotta hold on hope It’s the last thing that’s holding me
The podcast “Literally! with Rob Lowe” is in my regular rotation. I don’t get to every episode, but they’re usually pretty entertaining. The last one I listened to, however, was quite enlightening. Rob’s guest spoke eloquently and intelligently about the origins of makeup in this one-minute clip:
I certainly wasn’t expecting such erudition from this guy:
Yep, the self-proclaimed “God of Thunder” is actually a really smart cookie. And he makes no bones about the fact that he and his KISS buddy Paul Stanley were more interested in success than critical acclaim. But the podcast interview gives a lot more insight into that drive. It came from Gene’s mom, a Holocaust survivor who, at the age of 14, watched as her mother and grandmother were led away to the gas chambers.
Gene’s mom instilled in her only child a drive to make money… but as a means of safety, as some insulation against harm and danger. And Gene talks about how his mom was — and still is — his compass, and the person who gave him some much needed perspective on what really matters.
I tuned in expecting some laughs and funny stories (and the episode has those), but I didn’t expect the history lesson, and the emotional gravitas.
Gene may wanna rock and roll all night, and party every day… but there’s some real substance behind that kabuki makeup.
You can listen to the full podcast here on Podcast Addict (my favorite app for collating and listening to podcasts).
Kevin Sullivan on Life advice from a man who lived it: “A good one Damian. Bring our lens into focus after the long weekend or our long life journey.” Jul 7, 09:38
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “That is why we should celebrate every day when our feet hit the floor. Another to enjoy and share with…” Jun 25, 04:33
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “This simply explains why we should celebrate every day our feet hit the floor. Another day to enjoy and share…” Jun 25, 04:31
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