AriKoinuma.com

I used to hate money.

It’s because it was so painful to make them.

I really resented how I needed it.  Making money was such a difficult, excruciating process that I longed to just get rid of the whole monetary system.

Did I mention that I’m a Star Trek fan?

Well, nowadays, I’m making my more peace with money.  It didn’t happen over night, there are still tensions in our relationship. We’re working our kinks out.

But you know what’s funny?  As I traded jobs (and I had many) to the ones I liked better, so did my pay.

Of course, I like jobs that pay well.  But I have turned down jobs that paid more, because I didn’t like what I had to do.  So it’s not entirely true that I like my job simply because it pays better, though that’s part of it.

The job I have now rocks.  I love it, and that’s saying something because I’ve been there like 6 months now.  Usually by now, I start getting bored or tired of it.  (The longest I lasted at a job was 2.5 years.  But it was way too long — I was fired at the end, because I was so unmotivated to work by then)

I still think that we can eventually exchange our currency and capitalism for a system that’s better.  But I can see how humanity’s not ready for that yet.

So I am making my peace with money.

I hope you can, too.

DIY, as in Do It Yourself.

Hell no.  I can’t DIY — no way.  Being an indie music artist is to run a business.  In addition to making music (production of merchandise) you have to do marketing, customer relations, bookkeeping, web designing, and all the other crap that all small businesses have to do.  I’m freaked out already just b/c I have to find someone to prepare my first tax as an LLC (and so far no ones seems to want my business!).

Recently, I realized that I made a mistake.  I thought DIY was about Doing It by Yourself.  And many successful indie artists make it seem like that’s the definition — they do everything.  And that’s what I’ve been trying.  And I’m burned out.

At the end of the day, I’m just a guitarist.  And a songwriter.  There, two shoes to wear — I have no more feet to put more on.

Everything else, I’m going to do it with the firm intention of handing them over to someone else as soon as a person who’s 1) better at it than me, and 2) is more interested in doing that than me, shows up.

I’m not Doing It by Myself.  What I want is a team, so I can fire me from every fxcking job I now hold except those two.

There.  That’s my new dream.

And I’m gonna make it come true.

Heart vs. Ego

I’m reading a book called The Deeper Secret by Annemarie Postma.  I’m not even half way yet, but it has made me think of some good things.

The issue on my mind right now is the idea of Ego Intention vs. Heart Intention.  Both are powerful and you can rely on it to drive your actions.

But she argues that in the end, they both reproduce itself.  Create out of ego and you get more ego.  The same goes for the heart.

The most illuminating part, to me, is the chart below:

Whoa! I don’t know about you but I can plainly see that my pursuit of music so far has been very heavily Ego-driven and it’s probably safe to say that most of music/artistic/business pursuits are driven by Ego.

(I should clarify that I am using her use of the word Ego here — I know Ego can mean something more healthy, like having a secure and well-developed sense of self.  So don’t get hung up on semantics)

And that’s one of the reasons why I haven’t been able to get 100% behind my own musical pursuit.  It’s selfish! I just couldn’t figure out how my being just another rock guitarist/artist would make the world a better place.  Of course, I have nobler philanthropic ambitions that are lined up after I were to achieve fame and fortune…;-)  but really, no.  I can’t go around saying “well, you guys ought to listen/buy my music, ‘coz it’s good and I’m a good guy….”

I’m not saying that being driven by Ego is doomed to failure.  But I am saying that I couldn’t get behind my own Ego, and I also can’t see that had I even gotten behind it, I wouldn’t have felt fulfilled by what I achieved.

What Do I Have to Offer?

Self, then, what is it that I can really get behind?

Well, a nobler cause.  I like ones that are so universal that it’s undisputable.  Like Doctors without Borders.  They respond to crisis by providing for medical needs, and won a Noble Peace Prize.  Must be a good, believable cause, right?

Then I thought of other things I feel energized about.  I get excited about people pursuing genuine artistic ambitions. Like musicians who sing because they can’t live without doing it, or filmmakers who make films because they just have the burning desire to tell their story.  When people are doing things because they cannot NOT do it.

But even that seems a bit too safe, like I’m really lying to myself.  It’s like I’m saying I don’t have anything good to offer so I’m just latching onto others who have better offerings.

No.

I do have something to offer.  Quite a few, actually.  I am a great problem-solver and consultant.  I am intuitive and I can cut through muck and identify the essence.  I am very creative and can think outside of box.  I am loyal and reliable, resourceful and quick-study.  I am happy to be in demand as a web developer — because even though there are many of us out there, apparently when people work with me they want to work with me again and again.  And it’s a line of work where much of what I list above are being used.  I like being useful.

But I am developing web sites because other people want me to and it makes me money.  It really doesn’t fulfill me in a more fundamental way.  I can think to volunteer as a web developer to some charitable causes that I can believe in, and I may do that, but even that feels like a cop-out.

I want to feel fulfilled in my life.  When I die, I want to look back to my life and feel proud — and as much as my web sites help other people and make money, they don’t make me proud in a deep way.

Then I thought about why I wanted to make music to begin with.

It’s because music was the friend that helped me get through my dark times.

It is the most moving, touching thing in the world to me, when I listen to music that express the feelings I am carrying inside.

Music is the best gift I’ve been given.  And that’s why, I dreamed of giving it.

Separating the Heart from the Rest

When I think of being given opportunities to create meaningful music, I feel overwhelmed, in a good way.  I’d feel incredibly grateful and honored.  If someone were to tell me my music helped them get through hard times, I’d be so overcome with joy that I’d probably kiss and hug the person and say something corny like “oh, THANK you for thanking me!”

I think I have something here.  I feel like I can trust this feeling.

So I was right to begin with — but I got distracted by all the ego-energy that fills the air.  It’s been very awkward for me to try to be in the music industry.  I haven’t made many friends, never fit the lifestyle/social circles and I have been unsuccessful in applying some of the successful techniques to my own pursuit.

But to worry about stuff like The Industry, now I see, is missing the point of my intention.  I’m not saying I will not make money from music, but that’s really not the point.

I want to offer the most meaningful thing that’s been given to me.  I want to give back.

But to give back, first I need to develop the ability to create the same caliber of gifts that I received.  Not because I need fame, not because I want to turn profit — but because I want to make an impact.  It has to be a genuine piece of art, or otherwise it can’t meet my true objective.

So that’s my starting point.

Then, I just have to think of a way, an approach, that’ll keep Ego out of the picture as much as possible.  Again, I’m not saying that Ego-driven pursuit is a mortal sin or recipe for failure — it’s just that when it enters the picture, I can’t get behind it.  It stops being fulfilling — and thus, it misses the very reason why I want to create it.

Making an Impact => My Fulfillment

That’s my focus, and I need to affix my eyes on it.

I have a lot more thinking to do, but I feel like I’m onto something.  At last.

Today is a day to celebrate.  We finally launched the film web site I’ve been working on for the last 6 month.

Ladies and gentlemen, drum roll please…. LostInSunshine.com!

It’s a brainchild of the writer/director Jentri Chancey and producer Lorie Marsh.  And kudos also go to the web designer Shad Chancey, who did the graphic design for the site.

I am very grateful to be involved in this project for many reasons.  I think what the filmmakers are trying to do with this web site is very forward-thinking — I mean, grassroots DIY thing has been done among bloggers, authors and musicians.  Filmmakers have done it, too — but most of the cases so far have been unintentional successes.  They didn’t set out to market and sell their films that way.  But with LIS, they are totally going at it on their own, with the intention to create an online community around the film by using net-based tools.

I learned a ton from this project myself — I would never been motivated enough to really sit down and master Drupal (content management system) if I didn’t have to, but now that I’m neck deep into it, I’m amazed by Drupal’s sheer power and flexibility.

Launching a web site is always a proud moment, but I’m particularly proud of this one.

All that being said — I was thinking tonight about how proud I feel of my latest web creation, but I also imagined how I’d feel if I was releasing a new CD, and if it was selling…..

I’d be way up on cloud nine then.

You see, I love making web sites, and I love the fact that I am in demand, my peers respect me and I get paid handsomely for it.  It’s hard not to like something you’re good at.

But it’s even better, if you become good at something you love.

That’s the ideal, that’s what we should all aspire to do.  You make yourself learn and grow, because you love it.

And that’s what I want to do.  I’m not yet as developed as a musician as I am a web developer.  But I still am more musician than web developer.

And that’s OK.  I’m making what I love grow, too.  It’s just taking a bit longer, because it’s bigger.

A new mic preamp just arrived — an old Event EMP-1 that I bought on eBay for $71.

The reason I got this is kinda long-winded story.  My Firewire audio interface, Alesis IO14, bit the dust (which may not be its own fault — more on this later) so I bought Echo AudioFire4 to replace it.  But to my disappointment the brand new unit that arrived, couldn’t turn on the phantom power.  And to my further disappointment, I tested the same unit with a different computer and the phantom power did come on — so the problem, it appears, is my MacBook’s Firewire connection.  I thought it odd that my Alesis just up and died, when it just sat in my studio (it may or may not be broken — so far my tests are inconclusive).

So, I faced the dilemma: AudioFire seemed to be working flawlessly except that it couldn’t provide phantom power to my condenser mic.  Do I return it and pick a different unit after I went through all the research and picked out one that seem to meet my needs and have a solid reputation, or do I replace my computer, or… do I simply find a phantom power source?  I chose the last option (I had just replaced the hard drive on my MacBook, so I wasn’t quite ready to go through another trauma of migrating all my data to another computer), but as I looked for a phantom power device, I thought, why not just get a used preamp, instead of just a phantom power source?

I was looking at M-Audio DMP-3, which has a very good reputation among home recordists for being clean and good bang for buck.  I also looked at Symetrix 202 and Aphex 107 as well.  Then this EMP-1 caught my eye.  Apparently it’s an old unit that’s long been discontinued and I only found one review on it.  But the review was good and also Event’s reputation as a manufacturer of fine studio monitors (I use the also long-discontinued Tria System as my main monitors) felt good to me, so I decided to bid what I thought was a justifiable amount for taking the risk of buying an old, little-known preamp.

So far all I did was plug it in and confirmed that everything was working, so more on what it can do later.

I just commented on Derek Sivers’ recent entry, a quick questionnaire to the marketer-extraodinaire Seth Godin.

I won’t repeat what’s been said there, but it got me thinking about the term Remarkable that Seth Godin coins.  I can’t remember which book that was — I’m not a fanatic follower of Godin, just followed his blog for a while and skimmed through one or two books.

First of all, my understanding of Remarkable is that when people learn of you or your offerings, they get so excited that they can’t stop talking about it with everyone they know.

I do believe it was Godin who said something like “if your product isn’t Remarkable, then don’t spend any more money on marketing.”  Go back to woodshedding — come back when you have something Remarkable.

This, my friends, is definitely my quest.  I hate to sound inmodest, but I always believed that I have something, something rather uncommon.  And by that,  I don’t necessarily mean musical talent, though it’s definitely a part of the picture.  I’m a passionate person at heart and there’s a tremendous energy in how passionately I love some things.  For example, after 20  years, I’m more madly in love with my electric guitar, than ever.  It just keeps surprising me — for such a long, long time, I feel like I’ve been suppressing my love of playing the guitar.  Why?  There are many reasons, but one of them is that there are so many guitar players — and so many of them Great and Remarkable — that I can’t believe that a wee little me can possibly have anything else to offer.  I realize that I am perfectly allowed to play it just because I want to, I also don’t think it’s a sin to want what you love so passionately to be something more than just your little fetish/indulgence.  When we love something, we naturally want to share it.

Anyway, I think what makes one Remarkable is often not a singular trait (though some are) but a unique combination/conglomeration of diverse (and seemingly incompatible) assets.   Sivers often talks about a singer/songwriter who is a sailer and writes songs about sailing, for example.  It’s Remarkable music to sailers.  My guess is that that artist never set out going “I bet it’ll be a big hit if I make music about sailing.”  The artist made music that was a natural and honest expression of who s/he is and what s/he loves — and success is a sweet bonus.

Hmm, as I think about it, I don’t think I’m going to hit upon my Remarkability by thinking and consciously looking for that sweet spot where things come together.  That’s not the way to go about it.  I just said it above — I need to seek out Natural and Honest Expression of Who I Am and What I Love.  I hate clichés but “follow your bliss” probably applies here.

By doing so, somewhere down the line, I will hit upon something, a spot — whether it’s a music or a concept or business idea — that will strike a chord.  People’s eyes will light up when they hear about it.  It will be clear and free of confusion.

Then — I will have arrived. I can’t wait.

I’ve said this before and I’m sure this won’t be the last time, but I can’t believe how many people don’t really use their public libraries.

It’s free, people!  Your tax dollars are actually doing something good for you.

As a person who listens more than he reads, I love to browse through the CD section of the library.  Some days I don’t find much I’m interested in, but today I found a good load.  They are:

• The Derek Trucks Band: Already Free
• Chicago Blues Reunion: Buried Alive in the Blues
• The Rolling Stones: Hot rocks 1964-1971
• Bruce Springsteen: Magic
• Staind: 14 Shades of Grey
• The Jimi Hendrix Experience: Live at Monterey
• SlipKnot: All Hope Is Gone
• Sleater-Kinney: The Woods
• Sonny Landreth: From the Reach
• Martin Scorsese Presents the Blues: Son House
• Gary Moore: Bad for You Baby

So they include a health doze of blues.  Being primarily a modern rock guy, I tend not to discover any blues records I like, unless I can check them out and live with them for a while, and the library is the perfect place for that.  I discovered some albums there that I would have never encountered otherwise.

Plus, I just put a hold on Ignore Everybody by Hugh MacLeod.  It’s book that my hero Derek Sivers is enthralled in right now.

So, what are you waiting for?  Go hit your local library, see what you can dig up!

Recently I had a deep conversation with my wife, which led to some revelations.  I realized that I was setting myself up some deadlines because I believed that I wouldn’t get anything done without them.

Actually, the opposite is true here:  if something requires a deadline to get done, then that something isn’t something I want to center my life around.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have plenty of deadlines and I am good at honoring them.  But with it comes stress, scheming, and the need to be efficient. And you know, efficiency isn’t a synonym of effectiveness or fun.

I am self-motivated and driven.  I’m lazy only when I’m overwhelmed or tired. I don’t have problem getting things done.

So if something requires a deadline to get done, then that’s not something I really want.

Oh, I will still play my guitar and make music.  But how and when that will happen — I have no idea, except that they will get done when they have to.

Today I was working on a film web site I’ve been working on for the last 6 months.  It’s going to be awesome when we finally launch it.

Anyway, I was IMing with its producer Lorie Marsh and enjoying our collaboration.  Then I thought, “gee, won’t it be great if someone demanded me to work on my own music?”

I envy who ever gets to work with Lorie the producer.  She is the person who makes a business out of a film, by finding investors, building web sites, and promoting the films once they are done.  In the music circles that person would probably be called a manager.

But really, the biggest hurdle for me, and for many other musicians, is the fact that while we may have fans, nobody is demanding, nobody is holding us accountable to work on our own stuff.  I’m great with deadlines, so when someone tells me “this gotta be done by this day” I get it done.

I guess I’m not as disciplined as I can be, but that’s not the whole picture.  The collaboration that happens between a client and service provider is different from, say, between band members.  There’s certain tension and boundaries here that keeps us on our toes.

Don’t get me wrong, I am making progress on my own stuff.  But I dream of finding a Produer or a Manager for my own stuff one day — someone who can make a business out of it and demands me to produce.

Then I’ll be real productive.

Today I found the drum samples I was missing and listened again to this prog rock opus I had started almost a year ago, this time with drums. It still sounds terrible.

Sigh.

I never enjoy listening to seedlings of songs, because it never sounds good.  It’s missing too many parts, and parts that are there are not quite right yet.

And that’s one of the reasons why I used to not enjoy playing my guitar.  The gap was simply too great, between what I heard in my head and what I was playing.  It was discouraging.

Between the initial spark of ideas being received and the final rush and the proud achievement of seeing the finished piece, there lies a wide and scary void.  After the first rush wears out, but until you start seeing an inkling of the fruition of your vision, you have to proceed with nothing but your faith as your fuel.  You thought it was going to be good. Even if it isn’t, yet.

I have to release 4 songs this year, and it’s half way through January.  I still have time, but all I’m doing is taking baby steps rebuilding my creative environment on my computer.  I have a long, long way to go, and it can feel overwhelming.

So I stopped, told myself that I made enough progress for today, and plugged in my guitar and just played. For 10 minutes or so, I was having fun, being in a creative place without burdened by the thought of how good it can be.

I think spontaneity and its unexpected joy is massively important for artists.  But, so is an ability to hold a vision and then go about actually creating it.  Because if you do nothing but the former, you risk being sporadic, incohesive, and plain random — you don’t get to be an architect of something bigger. But if you do nothing but the ladder, the weight of your vision can crush the joy out of the creative process.

As always, the key lies in the balancing act.

I am going to release 4 songs this year.  First of which will be April 15.  You wait.  I’ll deliver.

But I’ll have fun, too.