No more dead asses!

Distinguished artist, faithful reader, and all-around good guy James came north for a visit 10 days ago (along with lovely wife and daughter) and we had the chance to hang out and get a few things thought out and talked through.

We paid a visit to Leapin’ Lyrics in Geneva, IL, and now there is another outlet for MusicArt T-Shirts (and hopefully prints and such)!  

We also worked on some of our songs, which are 20 year works in progress.  You know, there are millions of people who write songs together, and they all believe that their songs are good.  We are among them.

“Weddings, Funerals, and Bar Mitzvahs” was our slogan.  We believed (and still do) that we can be professional songwriters.  After our work session Thursday night, I firmly believe we still “have it”.  

I guess the reason I’m not a professional songwriter is because I don’t want it bad enough.  I have a ‘regular’ job, I have a ‘regular’ family, and ‘regular’ responsibilities.  I commend James for wanting to be a professional artist bad enough to find a way to be one.  He has been able to structure a career and family that allows him almost just enough time to be productive and creative.  But he’s the first to admit that it’s very stressful pursuing your dream.

And every time we part company, I feel bad for letting the dream go.  We can do this, but why won’t I get off my dead ass and do it?  For one thing, I love being lazy.  I could create the time to sit down with my 4-track and compose, but I’d rather sit on my rear and vegetate.  Like all the deep thoughts I’m thinking make a bit of difference.  I need to get motivated.  I need to set goals and KEEP THEM!

I have been working on a recording project for a while, well, it’s still in the concept stage.  In a classic instance of putting the cart before the horse, I’ve created the CD cover, picked out all the songs, written liner notes, etc, but haven’t begun any actual recording.  THIS IS SO ME!!!

So tonight, after the city council meeting, I’ll be scrounging through the still-packed boxes in the basement and locate all my recording equipment and accessories.  I’ll find a place to set up a studio area, and as of Oct 1, begin an earnest rehearsal schedule to record this project called (fittingly enough) Woulda Shoulda Coulda.

Turning my back on my gifts is sinful.