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Mourning Sir Bowie

There is not much I can say about the impact of David Bowie’s life on the music, art, and fashion worlds as most of it has already been said in the wake of his passing. I can share my personal experience of what he meant to me as a musician, a writer, and a person with artistic and quirky tendencies though.

I started listening to David Bowie’s music when I was nine years old. It was before the days where you could Google an artist or follow them on the web  and social media to find out everything you wanted to about them, whether truthful, exaggerated, or just plain wrong. I will even admit to watching Labyrinth more than once, entranced by everything about his presence. He created what he wanted. He dressed how he wanted. He acted how he wanted. To me, he did this in a bubble with little regard for convention or social norms. He was a hero to me not for his art, although I loved it, but rather for his passion and unique presence. He was not afraid to be who he was at a moment in time, and he rocked it.

I had insomnia when I picked up my phone to find David Bowie had left us. I had just listened to his new album on its release day and thought it was a beautiful, melancholy masterpiece, and I wondered who he was at this moment in time to make such an album. I now understand. He was the David Bowie about to leave us, and he was fully in charge of how he would do so even in the face of an unpredictable disease. His death was almost one year to the day I spent perusing the masterfully prepared art exhibit called David Bowie Is in Chicago on its last stop and last weekend before leaving the United States. This timing was not lost on me.

In mourning someone I have never met, I have learned Sir Bowie was not just an a person to me. He was an idea I could define myself, break convention, and determine a direction which was not in line with current practices or fads. David Bowie was living art recreating itself on the fly. He was change. He was color. Most importantly, he was an inspiration to many such as me who never quite fit in with the rest. He was an inspiration to not care about being a piece of the puzzle. Rather, he was the inspiration to create the puzzle and determine how you fit within your creation. As a result, I find myself today peacefully standing out from the herd, and this fuels my creation of novels, music,  and fashion which often delightfully stand out from the rest. I don’t do it for fame or money. I do it for the love of it much like I believe David Bowie did, and I will continue to do so in his honor. David Bowie Is Art.

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musician, Uncategorized

The Novelist Musician

I have been a writer since I was a little girl. From plays to songs to poems to books, it was my favorite thing to do. In fact, I make a living from it today. I also had a passion for music though, and at one point, I found enough time to take piano lessons. There were not enough hours in the day for me to pursue both artistic paths to the level I wanted, so I kept writing through undergrad and two advanced degrees, and the piano became decoration until it was sold. I was still an avid music listener and concert attendee, and no moments passed where I was not exploring music in all of its forms. I just did not make it myself. Don’t lament! Let’s fast forward to one year ago.

I found myself finally landing in the career I wanted in January of 2014 after a disappointing (actually, downright terrible) fall. It had the right mix of challenge, writing, and life balance. I could breath. I was happy. Inside of me the desire to make music rested waiting for a spark and was no longer impeded by stress, lack of time, and sadness.

The spark was a simple visit to a local music store to browse. A banjo caught my eye. I don’t know why. They say instruments find you, and this one jumped off the peg into my arms. Of all forms of music, country and bluegrass were not forms I frequented on playlists or through purchases. I did sweet Jesus knows what with the banjo as I had nary a clue on how to play it, and it still made a beautiful, joyous sound. I went home, did some research, discovered Earl Scruggs and old school bluegrass. I also discovered the key of sweet, sweet open G. I bought a banjo and started lessons in February of 2014. I chose to learn Scruggs style which I will discuss more in a future post and became a bluegrass mama.

When I had about seven months of banjo under my belt, it did not take long for the guitar bug to bite me. I was crazy for strings, and I wanted to explore another instrument with a different range of sound. After much research and testing, I bought a Fender Telecaster with dual humbuckers and began electric lessons with my banjo instructor, who I am convinced could make a cardboard box with strings sound good.

This brings me to yesterday. I went to my first classical guitar lesson after receiving a Cordoba C5 nylon string guitar for Christmas. That’s right. I’m taking banjo, electric guitar, and classical guitar lessons. I practice all three every day, rain or shine, happy or sad, healthy or sick, calm or chaotic, and I take lessons twice a week. And, I am still writing novels with a plan to put the final polish on my current manuscript and find an agent in  2016.

I have risen to a level of dedication, study, and hard work where I am comfortable calling myself a novelist musician.  I plan to keep sharing the story of my journey here so I can marry my passions in one small place in the digital world. I will also share tips and resources for anyone looking to explore similar passions. I’m going to be honest about both my achievements and my opportunities for improvement (we won’t use the word failure here). I can be pretty damn funny at times, and I hope to meet some new people of all skill levels in these two wonderful realms of my life.

My ultimate goal is to convince people sitting on the fence regarding their passions to pursue them with vigor. I’m not the most talented novelist musician. I have a truck ton of passion though. I hope it lights your fire.

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