Even If It Ends Up Sailing Off the Ends of the Earth...

"Wow, you like music? AND you like drinking? What, you breathe oxygen too? We should hang out!"
I should also go tattoo my face, because that will make just as much sense and be every bit as judicious a use of time.
Wow, I really am turning into a bitter person, aren't I? Quick measures must be taken to combat the acid tidal waves that are continually crashing against the cold rock of my heart, the spray of which spills forth from my lips in acrimonious syllables as their crests break.
What I am trying to say, in a less awful tone, is that I have had something of a revelation while observing my own social behaviours, and am now doing everything I can to cut back on "hanging out." You know, those times when you have two options as far as how you plan to wake up the next day: well rested, lucid, with a clear picture of the night before, all personal relationships assuredly intact, about $60 up and 600 calories down, maybe with a new understanding and proficiency of a certain set of scales, or even a new song. Or, if you spent your time "hanging out..." you can wake up broker, fatter, tired-er, possibly having to sift through the spliced-together cinema reel of the previous night's events in your head to make sure you didn't do anything stupid, with positively nothing to show for any of it- and if you're me, no recollection of any conversations that might have taken place while "hanging out," not even the "deep and meaningful" ones.
One of the best pieces of advice I ever got came from my journalist friend, Mike Geffner.
"I think you like your personal time too much to be successful." Ouch.
Mike has been sort of a mentor to me. He is an accomplished journalist who understands what it takes to "make it." Starting out in the business at a very young age, against his parents' wishes for him to be an attorney, Mike has worked very hard all of his life to be successful. It's paid off- if, in your opinion, having been published over 8,000 times by dozens and dozens of major publications constitutes success.
I met Mike a little over 2 years ago, while I was waitressing at Amsterdam Billiards. I was such a mess. Mike was looking to start up a performance poetry series, and threw me a bone my asking me to emcee. Not that I'd ever emcee'd before, or really even had any obvious social skills to speak of. I was a volatile drunk who stamped around the pool hall in a continuous rage against my very existence, and the circumstances that had forced me into carrying trays of beer for a living (through no fault of my own, of course). But Mike saw something in me, I guess. I ask him why to this day, and he still just says, "I asked you questions, and you didn't give typical answers." That's it, that's all I get. Oh well.
I started out as "emcee" of The Inspired Word once a month all the way out in Queens. Through the persistent (and I mean, persistent) efforts of Mike and Marvin (aka "Sunshine"- Mike's best friend and right-hand man), the event went from being waaay out there in Queens, to being canceled altogether, to reopening at none other than Le Poisson Rouge, and is now based out of Nexus Lounge on Tuesday and Thursday nights. And it is a HUGE success. Famous poets from all over the country show up at the Inspired Word, to perform for 15 mins, sometimes for FREE. Whoa.
Mike has given me a lot of pep talks over the time I've known him, but if there's one thing he said that really stuck, it's that generally speaking, only those who put ALL of their efforts into achieving their goals actually attain them. And that those who do go full-steam-ahead and devote 100% of their energy rarely fail. "I think you like your personal time a little bit too much... When you get to the point that you are putting every last drop of your efforts into being a success, then you will succeed."
Hmm.
He was right- so much of my time has been filled with drinking, playing pool, hanging out with friends, laying around in Central Park, walking around the city, "practicing" at home (springing for the oversized bottle of Gato Negro sauvignon blanc, parking myself on the couch, running through a few covers, passing out), etc. I could have covered a lot of ground by now, and I haven't. And I'm starting to feel it catching up. There's this guilt that settles in when I go out and socialize and it doesn't have anything to do with music. The only thing I want to do these days is go. Home. And. Practice. I SEE it now. I understand. Do I WANT to spend every night of my life attending a different social gathering? Yes! Is there a different opportunity to do so available nightly? Totally! Is there an intense amount of dissatisfaction when I stumble home after midnight, go to sleep in my clothes immediately and wake up at 7 for work the next day without so much as touching my guitar? Four days in a row? Absofuckinglutely.
So I think I've reached the conclusion that in order to progress, I'm going to have to restrict "me" time and friend time to interactions that center around music. For now.
A lot of my friends are facing this precise dilemma, and not just my musician friends. Everyone I know who has any sort of a creative streak suffers from the effects of the pure poetic irony of it all. We are artists, which necessarily implies that organization, structure, discipline and direction are not our strongest points. Many of us work in "real" jobs, but we are not corporate climbers. We work simply so that we can play. We stagnate in our roles for years, knowing that if we accept their offers of workforce advancement, we will literally be putting a piece of our soul on lien to the very system we hate. They may pay us more, but they will own more of us as well. We all want to be successful, but as artists we'd much rather play than work our way to the top. And we're social creatures. Do we enjoy sitting home and practicing scales, running through our set and our songs endlessly until playing and performing them come naturally as breathing? Sure we do! Until our buddies call to inform us that there is free booze and some serious rock-starring going on at the Thompson Hotel.
And then there's the depression and self-doubt, often the very driving force behind our creativity. Pain and self-loathing are fabulous catalysts for great art. Not calling them "great" art, but just read my lyrics. It's a TOUGH cycle, I'll tell ya. We are all suffering on the inside. The societal structure that we have been groomed to conform to just does not appeal to us. We don't want to be a moving part in a big factory machine, we want to be the machinist. We want to create.
But then the darkness inevitably sets in. We write killer songs, begin killer novels and screenplays, paint a few killer pieces, and then as soon as we hit a creative dry spell, we bottom out. We wonder if we will ever have another breath of inspiration, and we start looking at the wonderful things we have created and questioning their quality. We are intimidated by the idea of presenting what we do to the world, fearing rejection and ridicule. We beat and battle ourselves into submission, until all we are is "aspiring" somethings. And instead of fighting back and saying, "No, I will not quit, I will not give up, I will break through the gut-wrenching anxiety, I will tune out the naysayers, I know my work is good and I will keep pressing on," we turn back to our mundane jobs for stability, and to boozing and partying it up with our friends for comfort.
We nurture our passions from youth until it's time to make the big choice. One foot on the sailboat, one foot on the shore. Lifting the other foot from stable, dry land means that once we are on the boat, sailing into unknown and uncertain waters, we will need to be proactive. We have to navigate, we have to steer. And isn't proactivity and responsibility the very thing we are trying to avoid? Why can't I just get on the boat, lean back with my guitar, and enjoy smooth sailing in the sun? Because if it were that easy, anyone could do it and everyone would. I for one have zero interest in this corporate desert island. The Crystal Ship is sailing soon. I'm 26 and only have so much time. And I for one am tired of being afraid to board. The Ship is where I want to be- even if it ends up sailing off the ends of the Earth.