AriKoinuma.com

I don’t know why that is, but it’s hard to find artistic people who are very disciplined about building creative routines.

I am guilty as charged as well.

I have no idea if I’m typical or not, but I am very feeling-oriented and my productivity goes way up and way down…. if I’m feeling inspired, I get lots done, I feel like being productive.  Other times, I go through periods without getting anything done.

Like posting frequencies on this blog, for example.  I built myself a good habit of Tweeting, and from there built up a good routine of writing blog entries…. and puff!  I hit a wall.  My inspiration runs dry, I have nothing to say.

Now, on one hand, I firmly believe it’s fine to say nothing if you have nothing to say.

On the other hand, I also know that being creative is a habit.  Many successful artists — Diane Warren comes to mind — carve their craft out of regular, highly-routined attempts at being creative.  Inspirations be damned — just like people who jog everyday, you just have a go at it, whether you feel like it or not, and out of the machinegun approach emerge some real jewels.  You get better at doing things by doing them, anyway.  If your batting average is low starting out, just swing many times.   If your average is 10% of what a competent professional should hit, you start out by swinging 10x more to keep up.  In time your craft, your effectiveness will improve, and you won’t have to swing quite so maniacally.  (That’s how true masters make it look easy.  But don’t think for a second that they didn’t pay their dues.)

Building a habit of being creative is actually no different from either creating any new habit or quitting any bad ones.  It’s like building grooves on the ground where your wheels will travel frequently.  It takes some effort to get it going, but once the grooves start taking shape, it gets easier and easier.

Personal Development guru Steve Pavlina has a great article on this that has become a standard among personal development bloggers: 30 Days to Success.  I, for example, had undertaken 30-day challenge to work on songwriting everyday.  And I must say, I was indeed productive!

I also wrote an article on my old personal growth blog that has some relevant points:  The 7 Keys to Breaking Bad Habits

Now, when you’re choosing a new habit to build (or a bad habit to break) it’s a good idea to just focus on one at a time — don’t try to change your life radically, because that’s harder to pull off and failure undermines your self confidence.  If you want to build a habit of being creative, I think a reasonable place to start is to just build a routine/build in a time to have a go at it on a regular basis.  Whether you produce anything worthwhile is beside the point.  The point is to get in the habit of giving it a shot on a regular basis.  After a while, you may surprise yourself at how efficiently you can get creative.  I, as a guitar-based songwriter, have gotten good enough to a point where on most days, I can just mentally turn the switch “on” and write new riffs or guitar parts.

I myself have lots of good habits I hope to build…I will share some of my own 30-day challenges to undertake in the near future.

Anyway, it is very possible for you to change yourself so that you get creative often instead of being stuck in a stop/go routine.  The only thing that’s holding you and me back are ourselves.

So let’s make it a point to build a routine of being creative, shall we?

When I think of criminally overlooked rock acts, Dada and King’s X come to my mind.  I’ll get to King’s X in another post, but today I’d like to consider what happened to Dada, or rather, what Dada can do if they were to mount another serious attempt at establishing itself today.

Dada originally came out on the I.R.S. label in early 90s.  I.R.S. was the home to early REM catalog, so the label/artist compatibility seems right, or at least it makes sense.  Their debut, Puzzle had a novelty minor hit “Dizz Knee Land.”  They released two successors on I.R.S. that didn’t really go anywhere, before I.R.S. folded.  They had one last shot at major label glory when they signed on to MCA and released a slickly-produced self-titled album, which again, didn’t do much.

I have most of their major label catalog and the band’s strengths are abound and aplenty.  Catchy hooks, clever songwriting, tight vocal harmonies with distinct timbre. Michael Gurley is a guitar powerhouse with Stevie Ray Vaughan-influences, which is a bit of a surprise for this type of pop/rock, but still, guitar virtuosity can easily be made into an asset rather than distraction.

So what was missing in their quest?

I really think this was the case of not being able to figure out the band’s positioning, both by the label and the band themselves.  They were so talented and so good in every way, that it seems like they just didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Here’s what I’d do if I were to take the band and try to have it a go today.

1. Nail down their identity: both musically and lyrically these guys were all over the place, somber and dark one moment and silly and playful the next.  Their individual songs are brilliant but their albums can be very disjointed listening experience because of this.  The novelty factor of “Dizz Knee Land” really wasn’t their core, though — so don’t push that to the fore.  It seems like the band reverted to Gurley-penned tongue-in-cheek sarcastic, smart-ass persona most often, with lyrics about being a high school geek who secretly wanted to be a jock.  That persona is digestible and matches well with their quarky side — so have them focus on being a quirky, cheeky and experimental pop band, at least until they are well-established.
2. Once “Quirky and Experimental” is identified as the core, we can work on building a web site and online community based around that idea.  I can easily see them getting along with likes of They Might Be Giants, Guster, and even Frank Zappa, in the whole “stoned and goofy geeks” camp.  Print up a bunch of corny T-shirts and sell them at their shows.  Run a contest on goofy geek stories and write songs based on them (“Here Today, Gone Tomorrow” comes to mind)

Really, when I think of what’s most remarkable about Dada, and if they agree with me that it lies in them being Quirky and Experimental pop/rock band with ample chops at their disposal, I can think of many things that can be done to build their own fan community and establish a nice cottage industry on which the three of them could live off.  Dada is an exceptionally talented act — all they need is just a bit of focus and perseverance, and even that they probably don’t need much, because their material just slays.

Sigh.  Coulda, shoulda, might-have-beens.  But still, I think the idea here is that the most important thing an act needs to have is position.  Or identity.  Once you figure out who you are (and you better really figure it out, because you’re gonna be that persona for years and years), then, from there you can build a community based on that identity.

I really wish Dada would do it,  they are so good.

I think this is a common mistake that many artists make: trying to chase two bunnies at once.

I’ve been guilty of that, for sure.

Among the web circles, we talk about how a web page, or ideally, a web site as a whole, should have a single purpose/function it serves.  If you try to build a page that is both the killer article and an elaborate contact form, it ends up being convoluted and unfocused, being great at neither.

Similarly, building a fan base and making profit are two quite dissimilar functions.  It’s best if you do it one at a time.

And I’m sure it’s obvious which should come first.

You see, if you realize that first  you need to build your fan base, even at the cost of profit, then that realization leads to further decisions.  Like giving a few songs away free in exchange of their e-mail address.  Making e-mail list sign up form higher on a page than buy CD button.

Focus on one thing at a time.  It’s hard enough doing that one thing very well.  If you build an audience base large enough, then I’m sure your fans will tell you how they can help sustain your artistry.

Then, you can switch gear.  Only then.

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.

So, I still feel like a man who hasn’t quite “arrived” yet. My time, which always seems like it’s just around the corner, still remains in the future.  Though it always seems like it’s getting closer — I don’t know if it’s true, but it certainly gives me hopes.

Perhaps you are in the same boat as I am.  With a head full of (possibly) great ideas, a mind full of “Not Quite Sure What Good It’s For” talents, and a heart full of hope and yearning, we sit and wait for the wee little selves to mature.  I feel like I’m still tilling the ground — I have built some stuff, not sure if any of them are going to eventually add to my foundation on which I’m going to blossom.  Or perhaps I am already beginning to bloom.  I have many things I’m super excited about right now.  It’s often hard to assess exactly where you are.

Regardless, maturation is a process you can work hard on but can’t quite rush.  While we wait for our Remarkableness to arrive, there are a few things we can be doing to pass time productively, even if they aren’t exactly contributing to making the fruition come sooner.

1. Discover and engage your bliss.  What do you do on your day off?  When you don’t have any responsibilities?  What gives you energy?  I like to read about boutique guitar pedals.  My wife browse through educational supply catalogs.  (She’s an education geek and homeschools our children)  Bliss, I hear, is a gateway to your Remarkableness.  Plus, it’s pretty darn fun.
2. Confirm what you shouldn’t be doing. (It’s called Experimenting)  There are many things to do in life and many of them sound good, though most are not right for you.  For example, if you are a musician and reading up on the latest promotional tactics — if any of them sound good to you, make you wonder if you should be doing them — just dip your toe in and try it out.  But be completely open to being a quitter and getting out if it’s not fun or if it drains you somehow.  It’s good to confirm the things you shouldn’t be doing, so you have less things to wonder about.
3. Take detours.  If you have a hunch that your Remarkableness involves something having to do with being online, stay off of it and do something completely different.  Why?  Because, once your Remarkableness arrives, you’ll be doing it all the time.  You’ll be immersed in it.  Nothing wrong with that at all, just that after that happens, you may be short of time to do other things.  Enjoy a different life while you can — especially if you know that working hard isn’t going to speed up the arrival of Your Time.
4. Talk to people.  Ask them what they do and what they think about what they do.  Is that person Remarkable or if not, where in lies their potential to be Remarkable?  We learn a lot by talking and listening to other people.
5. Do nothing. Finally, you should do nothing.  NOTHING.  Being occupied doesn’t make you Remarkable — in fact, it can be quite detrimental.  If it feels like you’re working hard, then slow down until that feeling is gone.  Being Remarkable will feel like you’re playing, not working.  It’ll be so fun that you’ll do it even if you’re not getting paid or rewarded or recognized.

There, Ari, 5 things you can do while you’re waiting for your remarkableness.  Do you do any of them?

Well, I do some, though not all.  I’ve done #2 a lot, I’ve done some of #1 and #4, but I’ve been so stubborn to really engage in #3 and #5.  I guess I still haven’t completely unlearned the notion that hard work is the key to success.

I really need to play more.

I had heard of Chickenfoot before, but I never thought to check them out, until recently.

Upon checking them out on YouTube, my first impression is that it’s not the type of music I am really interested in.

But then, I couldn’t help but perceive how much fun they seem to be having.

On a quick glance, I can see 6 reasons why these guys are successful:

1. They are having a ball.
2. They know exactly what kind of music they make.
3. And that’s the only kind of music they make.
4. And you can describe what kind it is, in a single sentence.
5. And anyone can understand what kind of music that is.
6. Finally, they have nothing to prove.

Which reminds me of what Dave Grohl said in an interview (I believe it was at RollingStone.com) about how easy and fun it is, after fronting a band for over a decade, to just be a drummer (in his new band Them Crooked Vultures) again.

And that’s exactly what I thought of, as I watched Joe Satriani be Just a Guitarist in a Party-Rock Band.

This is my pure speculation, so take it with a grain of salt. But unlike his former pupil Steve Vai (who has got to have one of the highest IQs of rock guitarists, like ever), good ol’ Joe is a simpleton at heart.  He loves blues and he’s really not afraid of play something really dead simple and, dare I say, generic.  This is not the first time he’s played in a vocalist-fronted band (I believe he had stints with Mick Jagger and Deep Purple).  The little of what I heard in Chickenfoot had absolutely nothing forced about them — this is a party rock band, and he perfectly played what was needed for it.  And not a single note more.

And he seems to be having a ball doing it, too.  I just imagine, it must be a sigh of relief to be just a guitarist, taking a break from the high-and-lofty instrumental rock career, where he constantly has to push and prove himself to legions of male-dominated, ultra-critical guitarists.  (like yours truly! )

Like I said, I don’t think I’ll become a Chickenfoot fanatic.   But their music sure brought a smile on my face.

Good for them.

So, here are my goals for 2010:

• To write, record and release 4 songs,
• To revamp AriKoinuma.com so that it better establishes myself as a recording artist/Renaissance man,
• To blog here at AK.com on music, life and web,
• To set up an e-mail list and start building a community of like-minded people.

Now, I realize that 4 songs isn’t much.  I really can’t expect it to really further my career — but still, that’s a realistic estimate of my work load right now.  I have to do things within my means, however small steps they may be.

And here are other items on my to-do list for this year:

• Spend $100 per quarter on Jango.com AirPlay program so new listeners are exposed to my music,
• Continue working on my current big film web site project, LostInSunshine.com, and learn more about Drupal,
• Compose music for Lost in Sunshine when it’s ready for score,
• Think of a new way to network/meet new people on a consistent basis
• Continue to work out at a gym twice a week
• Try yoga
• Continue to practice my guitar for 30 minutes every work day

And on a wish list:

• Attend one music conference
• Sell some CDs
• Pay off my debt
• Get financially ready to buy a house

My Vision for 2010

At the end of 2010, this is how I envision my life:

I am still be working at my current mostly-telecommuting job, and mainly working out of my rented studio.  I have released 4 songs that I am immensely proud of, and listeners at Jango and my blog visitors are responding enthusiastically.  I have 150-200 names on my e-mail list and people are starting to participate in my career by  commenting on my blog entries and contacting me about my songs.  I feel very hopeful and excited that I can keep building on this, and in the near future put a band together to start playing live.

Lost In Sunshine is in finishing stages by then and I will be proud of the work I do on that film, with everyone involved in it ecstatic about it.  At the same time, Lost In Sunshine web site is also becoming known as a well-executed community building for an indie film.

As the result of my consistent efforts at exercising (physical and guitar), I will be feeling great about my body and how I look.  And my guitar chops are finally such that I can pull out more of what I hear in my head.

My own web site looks great and is getting well-visited.  I keep getting inquiries about building more web sites.  My experience at my current job and building of LIS.com helps me feel secure that even if I were to be on a job hunt again, I have marketable skills to land more excellent telecommuting jobs.

My community of friends and collaborators are expanding and I meet with them and with new people on a regular basis.  It feels great to be surrounded by such nice and talented people!

–

There you have it.  My vision for 2010.  Let’s see how it turns out.

2009 was an eventful year.  Every year is, but this one had its share of some amazing stuff.

Here are some of my highlights of the year:

Developing a Business Plan and Then Going off Without It

I spent the second half of 2008 developing an elaborate business plan that detailed my online blog ventures, with the hopes of landing a small business loan.  When I learned about small business financing, I was like, that’s great — I can take that out and have it support myself while I develop my own music/online business.  Because I felt that the only thing separating me from where I was and where I want to be is time.  If I had an abundance of time to invest in my own thing, then I can build it up.  (I still feel that way.)

Well, but in reality, it doesn’t quite work out nicely like that.  My vision was basically a borderline self-employment/micro-business and an online one at that, and so banks didn’t want to deal with such a nebulous entity, and a complete start-up with no track record, too.  Venture capitalists may be more open to something like that, but again, my business vision was too small in scale to be on their radar.  I was just trying to set up a business where I can make money off of music I create and blogs.  I wasn’t trying to start the next Netflix or eBay.

So I abandoned my business plan, but still took some time to explore my options, when I ran out of my previous web development contract.  I called it “intuitive entrepreneurship.”  I rented a rehearsal space and set up my music equipment, so I had a place dedicated to make music.   I also stopped updating the personal development blog I was building in 2008, so I can focus more on my original love of musicmaking.

Producing Marc Gunn’s Happy Songs of Death and Scoring America’s Next Felon

And some work did come in.  I spent a month producing my frequent collaborator Marc Gunn‘s Celtic folk record, and then spent another few weeks making the score for Ron Johnson’s almost-feature (56 minutes) mockumentary.  Both were great projects with great clients, though not enough money to really sustain our household.  We’re one-income family, so when I’m not making money the income stops.  I networked a lot and explored the options of getting myself going as a freelance producer and film composer, but really couldn’t get traction.  A saving of $11k quickly turned into $9k in debt, and I had to go back to doing web work.

Landing a Great Web Gig and Embracing My Demands

Well, the web contract I landed initially looked like just another boring web job, and I felt somewhat discouraged.  I vowed to stay a contractor, so that I can just hop from job to job, finding time to make music in-between.  But my job grew on me and when they said that I could telecommute 80% of time (because my employer was located farther than I’d like to commute to and the bus to get there was getting discontinued) I really saw that this actually could be a solution and not a problem.

Re-Discovering My Passion and Developing a New Vision

After several months of being immersed back in the web work, I felt very lost and wasn’t sure what or why I wanted to be a musician.  But then, one day I listened to my own album and it all came back to me.  I want to make music.  I love realizing my songs’ potential.

And from there, things started flowing inside me again.  Although my time is extremely limited, I now have a situation where my family has a steady income and I have a setup where I can create music.   This is a sustainable situation in which I can build my own artistry.  Of course, I realize that things can change on a dime — I’m still just a contractor (though my employer wants to hire me full-time, so we’re negotiating that as I write this).  But working a telecommuting job and finding little pockets of time to make music is, actually, remarkably similar to the situation I sought to create by taking on a small business loan.  It’s just that the time I can devote to music is much less than what I had originally hoped for, but everything else is in the picture, from a stable income to a place in which I can make music.

I sure wish if I didn’t have to go from savings to debt in the process — but I also don’t regret what I’ve done, either, because I feel like by reaffirming and continuing to pursue/explore my own visions, I am now on the way, headed for somewhere that I don’t even know.  I started with a vision, I got lost, and now I’m back with a refined form of the original vision.

Now I’m really excited about 2010, which I will discuss in my next post.

Well, there are many advices out there for us musicians — do this, do that, sort of thing.  They all focus on the techniques, the little tricks you can do to sell more CDs or bring more people to the show or build your fanbase.

And they can be useful. I’ve read them and I tried some of them, sure.

But these last couple of years, I started realizing how much of the foundation I was missing.  I was looking for tips on roofing, when I hadn’t dug the proper foundation.

Let me explain.  As a guitar player who started playing in the late 80s, I was initially influenced by very technical playing of that era.  To be a good rock/metal guitarist meant that I was supposed to be able to pull off flashy techniques.

So I spent a lot of time trying to play fast.  Because if fast wasn’t there, I wasn’t a good guitarist.  I scoured and tried practice tips that supposedly helped me get faster, fast.

15 years later, I am a guitarist who can’t play very fast and who can’t play very slow — well, all right, I’m not bad — but I am nowhere near where I thought I could be.

In my pursuit of speed, I failed to realize how important it is to build a solid house.  There were some licks I learned to play fast, but I couldn’t modify them or apply them — they were just habits of my hand.

This last year or so, I finally realized that if I want to really play fast, then I better be able to play softly well first.  Like learning how to hold down the strings with the very tip of my fingers (it gives me the most expressive control), instead of pushing the strings down carelessly, letting my fingers fall wherever they do.

The same thing happened with my singing.  I was trying to sing high, and I sounded terrible.  My high range expanded, once I stopped trying to reach out there and focused more on notes within my range.

Ironic, isn’t it?

There’s a Japanese saying “if you want to go fast, go around.”  Don’t look for shortcuts, but take the long way.

That’s the lesson I’m having to learn.  The long way actually is the fast way. Because shortcuts either fail to help you get there or even if you do, you won’t stay there.

So, as a musician, I am digging deep to identify and isolate my core.   Instead of employing every technique that supposedly produce success, I’m going to figure out who I am and what I have to offer, first.

After all, what good is a haphazardly put-together roof without any foundation?