One of my aunts passed away this past month and it had me in a strange and introspective mood. I'm trying to get better at expressing my thoughts about more complex subjects, like death. Made even more complex because it is the death of a loved one.

The last time I saw her in Colombia, about five years ago, she had declined in health. Though, she still remembered me, despite more than a decade (probably two) without having seen her. On this trip my kids also got to meet their great grandmother, who also passed away about a year after that visit.

I can't speak for whether my aunt felt like she had a life well-lived, but external markers pointed to a different story. Possibly closer to the truth - a potential life that lay dormant because of many complicated layers that only life and time afford us. I'm just grateful that she gets to rest now, and that my other aunts and uncles were able to come together to celebrate her life.

This got me thinking on the risks of living a life that is not yours. One where you're weighed down by the opinions and expectations of others. Wrong turns wind into labyrinths with no escape. Where you've been living this life for so long that you don't even know it's not yours. Would you call this being risky, complacent, or ignorant?

I'd venture forth to say that once you get an inkling that this is not the life you want, and yet you continue forward in the same fashion, then it becomes a very risky move. It may not feel like it, because risk is often associated with quicker moves, superficially dangerous maneuvers. Except, the long term effects of a drawn-out commitment are so very hard to pull yourself out of.

I'd say the same goes for building the life that you want, and for pursuing creativity within it. The initial decision can feel risky, especially because of the societal stigmas. I want to be a tattoo artist, I want to sing, I want to be in theater - in my case, I wanted to be an audio engineer and to help artist's pursue their careers in music. It's all very exciting business, and superficially quite risky, but say you stick with it and this initial decision is compounded over years. Saying you're gonna dedicate your life, or (let's not be so dramatic) maybe just a span of years, of your limited time on this earth to this craft. Going against all doubts, challenges (oh, some of these can be downright gut wrenching), expectations. Daily making so, so many micro-decisions to point your life towards the dedication of your particular craft. This is tremendously risky!

This truly put it into quite a unique perspective for me. It adds more heft to the twenty-plus years I've been dedicated to my craft. Dedicated to the beautiful artists that I work for and represent, who have also made this same risky decision for themselves. Against all odds, those of us that are still in it, are to be applauded and celebrated. For this ongoing risk that we take on daily to carve out our own space, and to honor the force that guides us continually towards the craft we spend our precious time on.

There's no room for half-stepping in risk, you're either in or you're out. You've decided to be dedicated, or you're not. You're allowed a day (or night) job. You're allowed to work on your craft part-time. What I'm trying to zero in on is intention. I suppose the devil is in the details for this one. Tangential story incoming...

While working from Orlando, Florida this summer I kept thinking about how much time I wasted in my life waiting for permission from others. Maybe it stems from being the youngest of four brothers, but that's not really important in this story. What's important is that somewhere along the line I decided that I couldn't just be me without first asking someone else. You eventually learn what pleases others and you learn to fall in line (or you don't). I suspect I fell in line pretty early on in my life because when I came to this realization I couldn't discern between the parts that were truly me and the ones that were created to please others.

It's taken me a while to disentangle this one, but I've gotten much better at learning to make decisions for myself. It's not like I was literally always asking others for permission, but if I knew it may not please others, or that there's a chance I might look ridiculous, I would hold back or just not do it at all. This is what I mean by intention. Are you waiting for permission from others to just be yourself? Are you only "kind of" convinced that you should be dedicating time to your craft? Maybe everyone thinks you're truly all-in and they get the safe version of the one dedicated to their craft. But is that really serving you? Is that serving the creative community that your craft is connected to?

I've spent a lot of time in fear disguised as a relaxed, easy-to-please, easy-to-get-along-with, individual. Even though I've been breaking through this limit, this bad habit of waiting for permission - this summer I rededicated myself to continue this breakthrough. It's not to say I'll all of a sudden become a high-strung asshole, but there may just be some things you don't like that I do or say. That is OK. When we're dedicated to our creative endeavors, we're often confronted with a society that is ill-prepared to meet our needs. We must find that continual push within ourselves, our faith, our peers, our colleagues, and the communities that we contribute to.

In a recent interview I read on The Tonearm with Jeff Parker speaking on the re-release of his album The New Breed, he mentions this idea of being influenced by the community that you're integrated into.

He created the skeleton of the album in Chicago, but moved to Los Angeles and completed it there. This geographic movement had the unintended (or intended) consequence of immersing Jeff into a totally different creative community. Though, this immersion wasn't immediate, he worked and explored sounds on his own before slowly connecting the dots to other like minds in the LA area. These connections, chance encounters, collaborations - all relationships where he gave of himself and his creativity, but which also ultimately influenced the production and recording process of The New Breed.

Can we create in a vacuum? It's a possibility. I think humans are naturally creative creatures, most especially if their basic needs are being met. Pre-mass global media there is plenty of evidence to suggest this was the case, but most of what has survived was created within groups of like-minded individuals. Leaving messages for others, describing their daily lives, lending structure to their group, providing meaning as it relates to themselves, others, and the wider unknown.

So, in an attempt to integrate myself more into my local community, and in preparation for the event I'm creating (yes, I'm still holding myself accountable to the event I announced in the previous edition), you'll start to see me sharing more about the local Tampa Bay area, and in some instances even the Central Florida / Orlando area. This is still a newsletter about creativity and craft, but the community aspect is such an important one that I can't ignore. For me, it feels easier to build locally, and then to integrate those learned concepts and experiences into the wider online (and increasingly global) community. Proceeding in this manner will lend itself to more first-hand knowledge that I can share with the readers of Recoveco.

As always, if interested or curious about my artist development services, whether it be audio engineering, music publishing, distribution, consulting, or anything in between, I’d be happy to hear from you. If we follow each other on social media, feel free to send me a DM. We can also chat in the Lucesca Creative Community or just send a few words to [email protected]. I always love hearing from you!

‘til next time! Abrazos!