Bless the Artist

In the process of deconstruction, my relationship with the Bible changed. It evolved out of necessity. While some people deconstruct to get away from God, I deconstructed to follow God. I had to figure out how I could still take the Bible seriously when the loudest Christians around me (including many who taught me biblical lessons when I was a child) were not living the way scripture says they should.

How could I believe in the Jesus of the gospel when so many Christian influencers portrayed him to be a gun-toting, power-hungry, hate-filled, bro-dude wearing a red hat? How could I follow the texts so many of my elders claimed to be the exact voice of God when those same leaders actively defied the instructions contained in those supposedly sacred words? How could I embrace Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth when much of the religious right wants to use it as a weapon to harm and control people I love?

This was not an easy exercise. It wasn’t (as celebrity pastor once Matt Chandler called it) a sexy thing to do. Deconstruction is often lonely and terrifying. It is painful and difficult. You lose friends, confuse family, and get ridiculed by the church faithful. In the end, you hope to find truth and freedom but those elements come with a cost. It changes you.

I won’t bore you with the step by step details of how I arrived at my renewed fondness for scripture. Instead, I’ll share the end result because it is (in my opinion) more stunning than anything I was taught in childhood Sunday School.

When I began this journey, I already knew the Bible was a collection of books: stories, poems, letters, records, and law written by at least 40 different authors over a time span of fifteen centuries. I understood every author wrote these books for a specific historical audience for a very distinct reason. It would be foolish to believe we (modern peoples) were the target demographic for these biblical writers. To better understand scripture, you must discover why the stories were originally told.

As I researched a way to answer this question of why, I began to see a pattern, an ongoing theme. Yes, it’s about Jesus. And yeah, it’s about how all these individual authors related to God. But there’s more. My faith was revived when I realized the Bible – start to finish – is a story of creation.

Most church folk will tell you the creation story is the first chapter of Genesis but it stops there. That can’t be it though. As you read the Bible (all of it and not just the parts that make you feel good) God is constantly doing something different. God is relentlessly creative. Sure it starts with creating something from nothing – the heavens and earth, the times of day, birds and fish, all of the animal kingdom, and people created in God’s image. After resting on the seventh day, God had more to accomplish. God wanted to make all things new.

The word “new” appears 280 times in the Bible (NIV translation), and you see this newness everywhere. When Adam and Eve left the garden, they were given new instructions separate from the rules of Eden. After the flood, God did something peculiar – a divine assurance was made, something not done by any other gods worshiped by humans. When God called Abraham, there was a promise a new nation would come from Abraham’s descendants. When the Israelites left Egypt, they were given new laws and new territory. God installed new leadership, new judges, new kings, and new prophets to lead the new nation into a new way of existing. The prophet Isaiah quoted God as saying “behold I am doing a new thing … making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” When Jesus came, God established a new covenant. Jesus regularly spoke about new things. He told the crowds “You’ve been taught to do this, but I tell you something new and better.” He demonstrated a new way of living. At the end of his life, Jesus told his followers to change their focus from the nation of Israel to all nations. Peter was given visions which convinced him to break old laws and traditions in favor of something new. Paul was given a new name and a new profession. In his letter to the church in Corinth, he said we are made new creations in Christ. He told the Galatians church old traditions didn’t matter - what mattered is the new creation. The author of Hebrews detailed a new way of doing religion, a way we could approach God directly, making the old rituals of the high priest obsolete. And the book of Revelation foretold of a new heaven and a new earth.

This is beautiful to me. If God is real, then God is a creative God. If God is real, then God makes all things new. This is something I can believe in. This is something worth living for.

In the gospels, Jesus told his followers “If you believe in me, you’ll do the work I’m doing - and you’ll do even greater things.” To believe in Jesus, who Christians claim is God in human flesh, to follow him we will do what he did. To follow the footsteps of someone who taught new things and new ways, we must do the same. Jesus gave his followers instructions to continue God’s work of creation. Creating something new is perhaps the most holy thing a Christian can do.

So God bless the artist, the sculptor, the painter, the doodler. God bless the storyteller, the novelist, the raconteur, the poet, the bard. God bless the singer of songs, the vocalist, the rapper. God bless the musician, the instrumentalist, the producer. God bless the rhythm maker, the drummer, the beat boxer. God bless the photographer, the videographer, the audio engineer. God bless the crafter, the woodworker, the jewelry maker. God bless the actor, the actress, the costume designer, the director. God bless the artist.

Now ...

Civil War

When I worked as a corporate trainer, I was taught to use a four quadrant model of facilitation. It graded the effectiveness of a class by measuring how well students know, comprehend, enjoy, and recall class content. We used paper tests and hands-on exams to quantify the first two quadrants, opinion surveys for the third, and the final quadrant was determined by how well the employees performed in production after graduating training.

The Q4 model is just a simplified version of Bloom’s Taxonomy. This teaching structure (created by Benjamin S Bloom in the 60s) divided a student’s retention into six categories: knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation.

Click to enlarge

I learned about Bloom’s Taxonomy in second grade. Was it the primary teaching method in the Marysville school district? Nope. They clung to the pattern of teacher led presentations and rote memorization. I was a special kid though. In second grade, my parents subjected me to IQ testing to figure out what was wrong with me. Apparently, my defect was being really smart. For all I knew, people asked me questions and I answered them. The result placed me in the top five percent of all students my age. As a reward, I got to leave my class one day a week to attend Enhanced Learning.

In enhanced learning, we studied topics not taught in any normal elementary school curriculum, like bridge engineering and Greek mythology. One other feature setting Enhanced Learning apart from typical grade school classes: it used Bloom’s Taxonomy. For every year long study, we had to demonstrate that we knew the topic and comprehended it. The we had to apply what we learned, analyze it, and synthesize it into our own remixed creation. Finally, at the end of the year, the teacher submitted us to evaluation - not just her own testing but also to the judgment of our peers as we had to evaluate each other.

The first topic our class studied during my tenure was all about American geography. We learned about the Highway system, the fifty states, and the national parks. We had a race on paper where our team’s “car” could move across a giant map every time we completed specific tasks. In addition, we had to calculate traveling times between destinations - all in the era before Google Maps existed. I created a board game about Mt Rainier for the synthesis section of our class, foreshadowing the love of mountains I discovered as a teenager. My game was the final solo project my classmates judged for evaluation.

The other solo project in class came during the analysis section. Our teacher took a pair of scissors to a map of the United States, slicing America into puzzle pieces. Each of us students were given a section of map and instructed “it’s a new country.” Ms Wilson told us the USA broke apart and these bits distributed between us became independent nations. There was no rhyme or reason to the shapes. She didn’t cut lines based on cultural, regional, or ideological divisions. Her obligation was to split the American map into a number of sections equal to the amount of kids in the class.

Once we had our individual maps, we had to research - analyze - the area to know what jobs existed in our borders. We compiled lists of industries done there: forestry, agriculture, tourism, manufacturing, etc. We added up the populations of the metropolitan areas to estimate how many people lived in our nations. We determined which city would become the capital. My country contained parts of Northern California, western Nevada, and Eastern Oregon. This project helped feed my lifelong obsession with maps. I loved it.

There was another lesson I learned during this analysis project, even if unintentional: the United States of America wasn’t permanent. This land of ours was something different before we got here and it could just as easily become something different again. Our borders could change. Our neighbors could change. Our anthems could change. Despite not having any frame of reference for military conflict (it was the mid 80’s before the first Gulf War) this was the first time the idea of a civil war formed in my brain.

These are not normal concepts for a seven year old to ponder but I wasn’t a normal kid.

Then I got older and school classes taught us about the real Civil War. I realized if it happened once, it could happen again. Then I got older and saw the news about the bombing that destroyed the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. I learned the culprit and his co-conspirator were American citizens and military veterans. I realized if Americans could attack America, it could happen again. Then I got older and studied political science and statistics and saw the accelerating political divisions steering this nation. I realized if it could happen in government, it could happen with the wider populace. Then I got older and watched the rise of the Tea Party and the alt right, the endless mass shootings, the proliferation of conspiracy theories and hate groups, and the riots intending to overthrow our government. I realized we are on the brink of another civil war.

I am saddened to see how many of my fellow Americans, including many who have worked their way into elected positions, have embraced ignorance as a virtue. I am heartbroken so many adhere to the doctrine declaring anyone who disagrees with you to be an enemy.

I’m not a prophet. I’m not psychic. I’m not a fortune teller. I don’t know what the future holds. What I do know is our existence is fragile. I know the freedoms and luxuries we enjoy could vanish at any moment. I know the same thing I’ve known since second grade: the United States of America isn’t permanent.

This is the perspective I carried with me into the theater this week when I finally got a chance to watch Alex Garland’s Civil War. The movie follows a small group of journalists trying to capture photos of the front line and secure an interview with the president before the opposition forces conquer Washington DC.

Image courtesy of A24

The movie doesn’t explain why the separatists seceded or how the civil war started. It doesn’t identify the politics of either side of the war. It doesn’t even ask the audience to pick a side. The heroes are the journalists - incredible performances from Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Cailee Spaeny, and Stephen McKinley Henderson. You see the conflict through their eyes and camera lenses. You feel their fear and their grief.


In one scene, Moura’s character screams in anguish (although his audio is muted) and for that moment, the filmmakers tell you everything you need to know about civil wars - real or cinematic: everyone thinks they’re fighting for the right side. No matter who wins, there are no winners.

Image courtesy of A24

Civil War gave me a lot of feelings. As a father, as a writer who married a photographer, as a minister, as a pacifist observing the genocidal war between Israel and Palestine, as an American who hates seeing what is happening in my real-life country, as a storyteller, as a cinephile … Civil War was an emotional ride. It’s also the first time I’ve cried in the theater since the death of Tony Stark. It’s a difficult movie to watch but a master-class presentation in scriptwriting, acting, and cinematography. Considering our current political climate, it’s also probably one of the most important movies released in the last few years.

The movie also brought me back to the seven year old kid I once was, realizing for the first time that the unifying bonds of our nation are fragile. Alex Garland provided most realistic demonstration of the facts I’ve known for twenty some odd years. It’s happened before, it could easily happen again. If we can’t learn from the mistakes of our past, Civil War might not just be a movie; it could be a warning of things to come.

The Disconnect and Ties that Bind Part One

In the earliest records of human history, people formed in tribalistic cultures. Families, tribes, sects, and clans. Every ancient society on every continent has documented their beginnings in small groups warring over limited resources of food, water, clothing, and shelter. Whether nomadic or settled, humans coalesced into factions based on shared values and lineage.

For thousands of years, humanity flourished in tribalism. This gave us the epic tales of folklore. In them we find the gods and legends of Egypt and Greece; tales of heroes and dragons; adventures, explorers, Vikings, and warriors. The earth experienced plagues and cataclysms, but its inhabitants endured because their tribes were united with common purpose.

Neighboring populations didn’t always get along so the survival of our clans depended on the biggest, the bravest, and the strongest among us to lead, guide, and protect us from those who wish to do us harm. We looked to the smartest and most beautiful to continue our bloodlines. We created popularity contests out of necessity because their success meant we could live and hopefully thrive.

From the indigenous populations of Australia and America, to the biblical Israelites, to the Chinese dynasties, to the feudalism of Western Europe, we found our identities, our health, and safety in the numbers and proximity of our people. Over time, these sects grew. They became villages and hamlets, then cities and nations. Divisions and culture formed around heritage, religion, geography, language, mythology, tragedies, kings, and lords.

Then something funny happened. The Industrial Revolution made life easier. Citizens of industrialized countries migrated from agrarian lifestyles to urban developments. As culture modernized, we lost the need for strength and courage to survive. We no longer needed the muscles and calluses of manual labor to tend to our own crops. The talent and focus needed to stitch fabrics together became a hobby instead of a mandatory skill. We could get the food and clothing we needed from markets and mercantiles.

Who needs to build their own hoses when specialized laborers could do it for you? Who needs giants to protect us when the government has armies? Who needs a bodyguard when you can buy your own weapons? Why protect your outskirts with roving bands armed with spears and swords when walls and secure border crossings will work more efficiently?

The neighboring towns were no longer rival clans, they were fellow countrymen. Our enemies were further away. The ever-present dangers and perils of pre-industrialization was a thing of the past. We were new people with modern needs and worries.

However, our tribalism was still hardwired into the human brain. Our communities might not need to bond they way we once did to survive, yet the human spirit still craves the bonds of community. Without the impetus for a tribe that lives together and fights together, we created new tribes with different purposes. The popularity contests continued in different domains.

Middle school cliques, political parties, college alumni, fraternal organizations, religious denominations, athletic franchises, MMORGPs, artist co-ops, book clubs, chosen families, and countless other ways we can find a way to say “these are my people, this is my tribe.” Our clans are bigger than they used to be. We can find kinship with strangers thousands of miles away. We can bond with individuals we may never meet in ways completed foreign to our ancestors.

Image courtesy of Lukas Zischke

Even though we no longer need the smartest and strongest to lead us, we still seek them out - even if we don’t know them personally. We find our leaders in hero worship, celebrity gossip, reality TV, social media influencers, and ballot boxes.

Modern civilization is completely disconnected from how we functioned for millennia. At the same time, we are bound to the ways historical cultures shaped our brains. Try as hard as we might to escape our past, the past is never truly dead.

Because my brain thinks through a filter of movie quotes and song lyrics, it is music which helped me comprehend our anthropology. My Culture by 1 Giant Leap featuring Maxi Jazz and Robbie Williams specifically speaks of this connection between our heritage, our biology, and the functions of modernity.

“I am the sum total of my ancestors, I carry their DNA. We are representatives of a long line of people and we cart them around everywhere: this long line of people that goes back to the beginning of time. And when we meet - they meet other lines of people. And we say: bring together the lines of me.”

I will remember.

For the Aspiring Performer

My oldest son has a plan for his future. Which is good because he’s sixteen and finishing his sophomore year of high school. Two more years stand between now and graduation. Adulthood is creeping up on him quicker than the ghosts lurking over the shoulders of unsuspecting characters in one of the Conjuring movies. A plan is a great thing for a kid his age to possess.

Christian will be taking some construction arts classes next year and intends to focus on electrical engineering after completing high school. He knows electricians make good money and the career is fairly recession proof so he plans on doing his apprenticeship, working as a journeyman, then becoming a master electrician. If reality was a D&D game, electricians are wizards and he aims to max out his character’s stats.

image courtesy of vforvegard

However, if he was a D&D character in real life, there’s a bit of a bard deep inside his spirit, waiting for its time to shine. Last fall, Christian participated in competitive drama. He and his partner won second place in their district and fourth place in the state of Idaho. Much like I did when I was his age, he’s found freedom in the theatrical world. He feels he can most be himself by pretending to be someone else. In addition to his dreams of working as a master electrician, he also want to continue acting after he graduates high school. He added a new item on his bucket list - he wants a role in a major studio movie, even if it is as an extra.

Electrical work to make money. Theatrical work to bring him joy. If you ask me, it sounds like a good plan.

On a recent trip to Seattle, Christian and I had a couple hours to break away from the rest of the family and spend some time together, just the two of us. Our schedule wouldn’t allow us to drive up to Marysville for a tour of my hometown so I thought the next best thing would be an introduction to a former classmate of mine. As an added bonus, this old friend has been active in the Seattle theater scene for most of the past quarter century. I messaged Dan and asked if I could buy him a cup of coffee and let my son pick his brain. He enthusiastically agreed.

Dan is a great guy. I knew my son could learn a lot for him and I hoped to share a few laughs reminiscing about the times we shared in the MPHS drama club. What I got (and didn’t expect) was to hear him dispense advice for me as well as my son. We had a great conversation that lasted longer than I thought it would. While my 42 year old brain can’t remember everything we discussed, there are a few key bits of guidance Dan contributed which I found helpful, if not inspiring.

Much of what he shared came from the perspective of an experienced actor. However, his counsel is applicable in any artistic or performance industry. From musicians to photographers to writers, he provided personal anecdotes and recommendations worth consideration.

If you or your kids are performers - either as an amateur or a professional, take some time to absorb these highlights from the time Christian and I spent with Dan.

1. Don’t stop learning. Christian mentioned interest in studying karate and asked if it would be helpful. Dan said absolutely. He participated in competitive fencing and his experience there led to roles he might not have gotten without learning how to fence. He also talked about how being bilingual opens up opportunities nonexistent for English only speakers. Dan informed Christian any specialty skills gained make you more valuable to people who want to hire you.

2. Fail in a safe place. Everyone makes mistakes - especially when starting out as a performer. Find ways to hone your craft in a small space before going big. Join student or small community productions, film videos for YouTube or TikTok, livestream on Twitch, attend open mike nights, book shows at dive bars where the dozen in attendance are probably drunk and don’t care if you are terrible. Those places offer low stakes with minimal consequence for failure and give you the freedom to screw up and keep going. Successes in these small spaces build confidence you need to be great when greatness matters.

3. Get involved. As a student, Christian has plenty of chances to be involved with theater and arts programs through his school. Yet for those of us older than a teenager, there are still ways we can participate in our chosen crafts. For those wanting to act, Dan suggested community theaters are a great place to start. Writers have blogs, singers have YouTube. Involvement in civic organizations help you learn how things function behind the scenes, the etiquette, the traditions, all the things unseen by the audience. You don’t even need to be performing to be involved. Dan told Christian he should volunteer as a way to get his foot in the door.

4. Find a mentor. Mentors could be a teacher; Dan and I both had a phenomenal mentor in Mr K when we were at MPHS. Outside of school, there are coaches and trainers available to hire. If you’re involved in community organizations, it’s possible to find someone there who is older and wiser willing to usher you to bigger and better things.

5. Do the scary stuff. “As an actor,” Dan said, “if there’s something that scares me, it’s a good sign I should probably do it.” He wasn’t talking about the dangerous or potentially harmful king of scary - rather he was speaking of the roles and challenges that seem intimidating. He gave us the example of taking on comical parts after spending years considering himself as nothing more than dramatic actor. Doing things that seem daunting helps you grow and creates greater opportunities in the future.

6. Watch for red flags. Dan has learned to watch for troubling signs about producers and directors to avoid taking roles or participating in shows potentially problematic. For example, if they’re disorganized during an audition, the rehearsals and production will probably be disorganized too. If multiple friends and colleagues are warning you to not work with a particular person, there’s probably a valid reason for their words of caution. If people make too-good-to-be-true promises, it probably is too good to be true.

7. Learn when to say no. This was Dan’s answer when I asked him if there’s anything he would do differently. He talked about how not every opportunity is a good one. As a young or beginning creative worker, it’s easy to say yes to everything. You’re hungry for a gig and eager to prove yourself. Inevitably, everyone ends up working on projects they shouldn’t have accepted. Learning to say no helps reduce the number of times you look back in hindsight and regret doing this job or that gig.

8. Remember your power. In creative industries, there are people who think they possess all of the power as if they’re little demigods in the world of arts and entertainment. Agents, publishers, directors, producers. They act big and tough, presenting an image of unquestionable authority giving artists the only option to shut up and take whatever is offered. While it is true they have power, they don’t have it all. You have power too. They will research you before they offer you anything, you have the power to research them too. Study them, ask around for others who have worked with them to see what their experience was like. Look into the quality or other work they’ve done. Everyone has power and no one is more powerful than anyone else. If a director or a publisher uses their power in a way that is abusive or manipulative, you have the ultimate power to say no and decline working for or with them.

If you know Dan and have the chance to spend some time with him, I’d encourage you to do so. He’s filled with wit and wisdom. You will probably walk away from the conversation encouraged or motivated. Possibly both.

If you’re in the Seattle area, Dan will be a part of the cast for GreenStage’s return to live in-person performances with Shakespeare in the Park this summer. Please go see one of their shows and enjoy some of the culture the city has to offer.

Finally, regardless of where you live, please support your local arts community. Starving artists everywhere do what we do for people like you. After a year like 2020, your patronage is more important than ever.

You need it to get it: this writer’s struggle

For most struggling artists, the biggest dream they could dream is to make money doing what they love. Most of us yearn to turn our creative work into some form of income. The photographer who longs to book a celebrity session. The sculptor who wants to be hired for a commissioned piece of art. The painter who envisions their own creation as a mural along a busy street. The actress waiting for her big break The author who hopes to have their manuscript published.

Accomplishing any goal requires hustle and baby steps. Breakthrough artists are rare and overnight successes are rarer. Just like any other industry, creative pursuits require practice. Mastery is the result of years of trial, error, failure, rejection, and disappointment.

Some accomplishments are too complex to phrase in simple terms, especially when you have yet to reach them. Such admission is humbling for a writer like me - a person who regularly manipulates syntax and vocabulary to tell stories and communicate ideas. I am not immune to the challenges other artists face. Right now, my biggest hurdle is finding the one person who is willing to take a risk on me.

Eighteen years ago, Common released one of my all time favorite rap albums: Like Water for Chocolate. About halfway through, Mos Def joins Common for a track ‘The Questions.’ Lyrically, the two rappers trade back and forth, asking each other thought provoking questions and responding - usually something like “I don’t know you tell me.” The song is quirky and funky. Now, after nearly two decades, my current plight brings me back to one of Mos Def’s questions:

"Why do I need I.D. to get I.D.? If I had I.D. I wouldn't need I.D."

This one line is one of those odd truths about modern life. It doesn’t make sense but we accept it because that’s just the way it is. You need it to get it.

Which brings me back to today. As a struggling artist, an unpublished writer looking to transform my hustle into a career, I realize the I.D. Mos Def questioned could be replaced by other items.

I’m looking for opportunities to increase my income and it’s not an easy task. I have a steady day job - it’s not glamorous but I’m good at it. It pays the bills and provides medical benefits. My boss trusts me and there’s a couple hundred employees that rely on me. I don’t want to replace my income, just add to it. Between my skill set and lack of fancy degrees, writing is the most practical and logical method of earning more money. Considering the limited time I have outside my office, freelancing seems to be my only option. However, finding a paying gig is harder than you’d imagine.

Publishers looking for freelancers only want to hire writers with previous freelancing experience.

I could rewrite Mos Def’s lyrical musing: why do I need experience to get experience? If I had experience I wouldn’t need experience.

The J Jonah Jamesons of the world tend to ignore new faces. Whether they control the budgets and hiring decisions for websites, magazines, newspapers, or ad agencies, they want writers with proven track records. They would rather poach from a competitor than gamble on an underdog. This is a scary world for up and coming writers looking for their first step into professional bylines. Publishers want a sure bet. They don’t want talented writers, they want profitable writers. If you want to demonstrate your profitably, you must already be profitable.

Which is why you need experience to get experience.
You need publishing credits to get publishing credits.
You need a freelancing gig to get a freelancing gig.
You need name recognition to get name recognition.
You need a fan base to get a fan base.
You need an income to get an income.
You need I.D. to get I.D.

I do have a small army of fans: a few friends and family members who read everything I write. Their compliments motivate and encourage. However, I’m not a fan of nepotism and none of them work in print, web, or broadcast media. Their kind words are appreciated but don’t translate into dollar bills. If interpersonal encomium had monetary value, I’d be wealthy.

Unfortunately, I don’t have any answers for this phase in my creative journey. This isn’t a testimonial. This isn’t an “I can do it you can too” exhortation. Rather, it’s a call for solidarity. A beacon of hope - if you’re there, I am too.

You are not alone.

What Is Pop Culture?

The fifth week of class was my favorite. We looked at the emerging trends in comics that appeared in the 60s and 70s that have stuck around through today's books. In our assignment, we had define pop culture and determine if it is something that was created in the 1960s.

---

In the simplest definition, pop culture (pop being short for popular) is about the thoughts and ideas that drive a culture – primarily in the realms of popular arts and entertainment. Pop culture is formed by the trends, sounds, and images that shape the opinions and attitudes of large swaths of a populace.

With that perspective, pop culture could exist in any era of history. In theory the gladiatorial games during the 1st and 2nd century could be deemed pop culture of the era as it was designed to entertain the masses of the Roman Empire. However, in ancient times and through most of the Middle Ages, entertainment was a luxury that was only afforded to a select few. What we could classify as popular during their time would not have been available to anyone with a nomadic lifestyle, or the slaves, the farmers, and the lowest members of society. Culture was reserved for the elite: emperors, kings and queens, and wealthy merchants.

By the time history reaches the Renaissance era, we begin to notice a division of high culture to entertain the aristocrats, and low culture for the commoners. It is during this time that the Catholic Church was commissioning artists like Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni and Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci to create masterpieces of art – paintings and sculptures to adorn St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican and other cathedrals across Europe. Art was paid for by the bishops, cardinals, and popes of the church to shape the culture and to influence the monarchs.

Yet as technology and practices in agriculture, worker’s crafts, and metallurgy improved, coupled with better living conditions and increased health, peasants of the Renaissance era possessed more recreational time than many of their stature in prior generations. They began to seek out their own form of entertainment. While high society would entertain themselves with masquerades and balls, the common people would attend festivals and gather at the tavern. Soon they would find their own version of culture, often venues of entertainment considered too low brow for the upper classes of society. Writers like William Shakespeare (and later Charles Dickens) catered to these lower class tastes – and it is their work that has endured due to their popularity among the poorer and larger segments of culture.

All history considered the term popular culture did not come into use until Dickens’ time. The industrial revolution gave common citizens more spare time, more opportunities for education, and greater desire for entertainment. This gave rise to minstrel shows and vaudeville. Improved technology moved the forms of mass entertainment to radio, magazines, movies, and television. During the first half of the 20th century, comic books began to be an influencing medium of popular culture.

From the folk songs sung in medieval taverns, to the traveling Wild West shows in the American frontier, to Marvel Comics’ first Fantastic Four issue in 1961, the common thread of all pop culture is that it was never intended to entertain the highest echelons of society. Pop culture was always meant to reflect the attitudes and values of the ordinary people, common folks. It was always a dumbed down version of what was available to the upper class.

Clearly, pop culture has existed long before modern times. However, the cultural revolution of the 1960’s transformed how all of society viewed pop culture. During the sixties, pop culture was mainstreamed more than it ever had been before. Certain elements found simultaneous success as both high and low culture. The creators and innovators of pop culture began to be more influential. Through Beatlemania, artists like Andy Warhol, filmmakers like Stanley Kubrick, and the musicians who performed in front of 400,000 people at Woodstock, the art and ideas of pop culture were at the forefront of shaping history.

What makes the sixties unique when looking at modern pop culture is the decade’s lasting impact. If you trace the lines of who influenced who, most musicians can point to The Beatles (either directly or indirectly) as their inspiration. Today’s directors can trace their influences to movies from Stanley Kubrick, Sergio Leone, Alfred Hitchcock and their work from the sixties. Current comic books (and the related cinematic universes) owe their heritage to the teamwork between Stan Lee and Jack Kirby at Marvel, and the revival of the Justice League of America at DC during the sixties.

More than any other era of history, the sixties have left a bigger footprint. Many of the legendary figures we see in the movies, watch on TV, and read in comic books have roots in the revolutionary culture of the sixties.

Why Grunge Matters (part 1)

Twenty five years ago, grunge took over the world of pop music and put Seattle on the cultural map. It rode out the wave of popularity with a wall of noise for a few years then disappeared, replaced by new trends in the recording industry. The reason for the waning of the grunge movement is hard to pin down. The possible culprits are many. Kurt Cobain (Nirvana) killed himself. Layne Staley (Alice In Chains) and Scott Weiland (Stone Temple Pilots) both lost themselves to drugs. Billy Corgan (Smashing Pumpkins) went crazy. Eddie Vedder (Pearl Jam) boycotted Ticketmaster and effectively removed his band from American markets. In 2009, ECW Press released the fatal prognosis with their book, 'Grunge Is Dead.'

The genre may have faded from regular radio rotation, but I reject the notion that it died. Instead, grunge has evolved and I believe it is as essential to our modern landscape as it was in in the first half of the 90's. While classic rock stations are beginning to play some of grunge's most accessible tunes - evoking both feelings of nostalgia and 'holy crap I'm getting old,' this last weekend reminded me a vibrancy within the genre that will never grow up and will never die of old age.

During a performance in Gothenburg, Sweden last Friday, Dave Grohl fell off of the stage and broke his leg. After getting medical attention, a cast, and some crutches, he returned to the venue and finished performing his band's set. In the process, he reminded us all how to rock n roll properly. His playing though pain was also a great lesson in fulfilling commitments - even when it might be personally inconvenient.

If you're not familiar with Dave Grohl, he is a vocalist, guitarist, songwriter, and possibly one of the hardest working men in modern music. However, when I was in junior high, Grohl was the drummer for another band - Nirvana. This placed him right in the center of the hype of the grunge explosion. After Cobain's suicide, Nirvana disbanded and Grohl formed his own group: Foo Fighters. Their debut album was released 20 years ago at the tail end of grunge's dominance; since then, they have released another seven LPs. Between those albums, a handful of EPs, and some contributions to movie soundtracks, they have released a grand total of 32 singles - one of which (Times Like These) is on the lullaby playlist on my daughter's mp3 player.

I was listening to Foo Fighters Saturday afternoon when Zu asked "Are they one of your favorite bands?" I answered affirmatively. JJ asked me what style of music that they played and I told him that it was alternative rock. JJ responded, "Daddy, you know that's my favorite kind of music, right?" If my kids are any indicator of the world around us, Dave Grohl is now influencing and inspiring a second generation of fans.

The reminders of grunge's impact didn't end with news about Grohl's injury. On Sunday, I heard a familiar melody while walking through the WinCo parking lot. As the drum beat and guitar riff became louder and more defined, I eventually found the source and realized why the song sounded so familiar. An older gentleman, roughly my dad's age, drove by in an older Chevy pickup. Windows down, music up, the old man was bobbing his head along to Pearl Jam's Evenflow. These songs carry meaning for more than just the gen-x kids that were in junior high and high school when these songs were first released. Even our parent's generation appreciates the soundtracks to our rebellious years.

Then yesterday, one of my favorite cartoonists (The Oatmeal) released some artwork paying tribute to another Pearl Jam song: Black. (see it HERE) Seeing that panel with one short lyrical snippet got the tune stuck in my head and I soon found myself humming that line "I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky."

These haunting words are a permanent fixture of my memory. I will loudly sing along with every word anytime it is played on the radio or takes its turn in one of my iTunes playlists. No shame. But as with any song that digs its way into constant mental replay, the only remedy is to listen to it for real. Which I did. I played the track from Ten. Then the acoustic version from their appearance on MTV Unplugged. Then the version from Live on Two Legs. Yeah, I'm a little obsessive at times.

From there, I stumbled upon a recording of Black from their set at the 1992 Pinkpop Festival in the Netherlands. Rather than listen to the one song, I listened to the entire 45 minute set. In the middle of the show, Eddie marveled at the sea of people in front of him. He said that they were the band’s biggest audience yet (60,000 people attended the festival). “We never played for this many people before. Never thought we’d ever play for this many people.” In hindsight, his commentary is laughable. They were one of the biggest bands of the 90’s – of course they would play for huge audiences.

But this was the beginning of a movement. This is when their first album, Ten, was less than a year old. This was their first summer tour with massive festivals. This was a young band staring into the face of the future.

image found on pinterest

As I listened to the music of Pearl Jam and Foo Fighters these last few days, I found myself pondering the impact of an era that is now a part of the history books my kids study at school. The end of the cold war, the LA riots, American military in Somalia, and the rise and collapse of a musical force that captured everyone’s attention.

My parent’s generation, my generation, and now my kids’ generation. Each of us impacted and influenced in different ways. And today, grunge is still needed. Still vital. Still alive. ("You’re still alive she said. Do I deserve to be? Is that the question? If so, who answers?")

Of course, the answers are complicated than generational appeal. And I am only scratching the surface.

Finding Disney Magic

Since its inception, Disney has always possessed an element of magic. From the moment Mickey Mouse started whistling at the beginning of the short film 'Steamboat Willie,' audiences knew that they were witnessing something new, whimsical, and magical.

Walt Disney was aware this and he built his empire upon that concept. Mickey embodied this mysticism as the magician's apprentice in Fantasia and the enchanted tradition has since continued into Disney's modern animation. Consider Cinderella's fairy godmother, Tinkerbell's pixie dust, Aladdin's Genie, or Elsa's control over snow and ice. Even off screen, Disney exists in a world where Merlin's wizardry and alchemy is as real the sword Wart pulled from the stone. They even named their Florida theme park Magic Kingdom.

From their stories, to their amusement parks, to their toys and assorted merchandise, Disney boldly declares their faith in magic and insists that you share their belief.

This last weekend, I finally made the effort to see Big Hero 6 – the most recent addition to the cannon of Walt Disney Animation Studios and their first film featuring Marvel Comics source material. The movie is absolutely delightful and deserves the Oscar award it won for best animated feature. Naturally, the nerd in me is excited to see superheroes in the Disney universe. Yet, as I contemplate why Big Hero 6 is such a phenomenal movie, it has little to do with Marvel's intellectual property; it came to life through Disney's tradition of movie magic. Comparing this movie to the rest of Disney's filmography, there are three big avenues through which this magic manifests.

1. The magic of inclusion.

Disney doesn't want to tell you a story, they want to involve you in the stories they tell. They build fantasy worlds in such a way to make you feel as if you are present - or at least wish you were there. Their films have been set on every continent (except Antarctica) and places beyond: underwater (Atlantis), outer space (Treasure Planet), and virtual reality (Wreck-It Ralph). Their characters span such a wide variety of personalities that any viewer should be able to find someone to whom they relate - even if that character is the nervous and panic prone bird (Zazu), the playful but difficult to love alien (Stitch), or a hippy sentient VW Van (Fillmore). Even in the earliest classics, Disney sought to appeal to the widest spectrum possible. In seven dwarfs with distinct and nameable personas, there is someone for anyone to say, "Yeah, that's me."

This art of inclusion is why people are drawn to Disneyland – the happiest place on earth. It has spawned countless works of fan art and creative mashups. Obsessive studies of Disney movies have revealed the psychoses of some of our most popular heroes, heroines, and villains – even assigning them diagnoses from the DSM-IV. If ever you doubt that there is a Disney character like you, there is a handy chart that delegates each personality type from the Meyers-Briggs test to corresponding Disney figures.*

In Big Hero 6, the magic of inclusion is alive and well. Set in the fictional city San Fransokyo (an amalgamation of San Francisco and Tokyo), animators managed to incorporate the best of both cities and create an alluring environment that was not only believable, but the kind of place where I would want to live. The screenwriters developed characters that we care about, to celebrate in their victories and mourn in their grief. And still there were personalities varied enough to relate to different members of the audience. Christian, my oldest, found his doppelganger in Hiro - the 14 year old genius who serves as the central protagonist. Zu had two kindred spirits in the girls: GoGo the athletic engineer and Honey Lemon the quirky and empathetic chemist. JJ's favorite was Wasabi, the cautious neat-freak who specialized in laser and plasma technology. Even I could see a bit of myself in Hiro's older brother Tadashi who wanted nothing more than the best for his family and friends and ultimately sacrificed himself to save someone he admired.

2. The magic of imagination.

The power of the imagination is deeply rooted in Disney's philosophy. Even the employees responsible for designing, creating, and building the theme park attractions, cruise ship features, retail locations, and resorts are not engineering these destinations - they're Imagineering. Walt Disney believed that Disneyland would continue to grow as long as there was someone out there with an imagination and he was quoted saying, "Laughter is timeless. Imagination has no age. And dreams are forever." When a company's founder possesses such boundless and imaginative optimism, that attitude will be absorbed by the whole organization. That unbridled creativity spread like a wildfire from Disney's first cartoons, turning every story he touched into magic, reimagining familiar tales into something grander than anyone could have anticipated.

With the magic of imagination, every girl has slipped into a princess dress for at least a moment to pretend they are Bell or Snow White or Merida or Jasmine. With the magic of imagination, thousands of people from around the world are adding a Disney destination to their bucket lists while thousands others are checking it off from theirs. With the magic of imagination, we are invited into a wonderful world of make-believe. Through the magic of imagination we discover truths about the human condition from talking animals giving lessons in morality and catchy songs that permanently implant themselves in your psyche (I'm talking about you, 'Let It Go').

The plot of Big Hero 6 hinges on the magic of imagination. It follows the complex mind of Hiro as he grows from inventing his own battle robot to building powerful suits that grant his friends superpowers. Even the MacGuffin in Big Hero 6 are millions of microbots that are controlled by the imagination. But rather than tell us that Hiro is just a smart kid, the movie takes us to the drawing table with him. We watch as he drafts out his designs and uses a 3D printer to construct his prototypes. We're included in the testing processes. In a sense, the movie is teaching us how to use our own imagination, cementing one of the biggest lessons of the story: to solve your problems by observing them from a different angle.

3. The magic of inspiration.

In a world where most magicians employ misdirection and sleight of hand, the only real magic that truly remains is the power of a story to shape our culture. Stories that change hearts and move mountains. Stories that inspire us to do great acts and soar to great heights. Disney has harnessed that magic of inspiration and embraced their potential to cause great good in our world.

How many people adopted a dog after watching 101 Dalmatians? How many kids tried to dissemble their gadgets and tinker with the parts after watching The Great Mouse Detective? How many siblings strengthened their bond after watching Brother Bear? How many humans started recycling more after watching WALL-E?

The magic of inspiration shines in Big Hero 6. It was inspiration for my daughter to see that girls are just as smart and inventive as boys. It was inspiration for my oldest son to use his creativity to positively affect the world around him. And JJ? Well, he has always wanted to be a real life hero. Ever since he was old enough to have career aspirations, he has wanted to be a police officer or a fireman. As we walked out of the theater, he told me that he changed his mind; now he wants to build robots to help people. Big Hero 6 opened the possibilities for him. He will probably change his mind at least a dozen times between now and when he goes to college about the kind of work he wants to do, but now he sees that there are endless ways to be a hero. Being a robotics engineer is one of those ways.

* In case you’re wondering, I’m either The Overseer (Woody) or The Inspector (Sebastian), depending on circumstance.

S is for Stories and Superheroes

I love a good story. Actually, I crave them. A well told story is a narcotic; it makes me feel powerful and vital – like I could conquer the world. But deeper than that, I believe that humanity’s existence is dependent on our ability to tell our stories and pass on the stories of those who came before us.

A few years ago, I stumbled upon a quote on the Kennedy Center website that has stuck with me. It delighted me so much that I have it posted on the wall of my office: “Telling stories is an essential part of being human. People everywhere, throughout history, have told and still tell stories. Whether it's to remember history, to communicate feelings, or honor an individual, telling stories helps us understand the world in which we live.”

Boom.

Drops mic. Walks away.

In those three sentences is a truth that you will find repeated in resources for teaching literacy to young learners and encouraging youth to appreciate literature. You will see it in academic papers and writers' workshops. Over and over again – storytelling is an essential part of being human. In our modern era, we have a multitude of mediums available to seek out the stories of others and to tell our own. We have oral traditions and books like past generations, but we also have newer outlets like television, movies, comic books, video games, blogs, podcasts, and social media.

Stories are everywhere in our world. The challenge is finding a good one.

Confession time:

Lately, I've been binging on superhero stories. In the past couple of months, I've caught up on all of the super powered movies that I've missed over the past couple of years: Captain America Winter Soldier, The Amazing Spider-Man (and its sequel), X-Men Days of Future Past, and Wolverine; sometime this weekend I will be watching Guardians of the Galaxy. I’m working through the second season of Arrow on Netflix instant. I've kept up with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Gotham, and Constantine. My oldest and I finished watching the last few episodes of Avengers Assemble. I've read a Guardians of the Galaxy graphic novel and am midway through an Avengers graphic novel.

For most of my life (not to mention the first few decades of their existence before I entered planet earth) comic books were seen as a subculture reserved for nerds and social misfits. There was an idea that reading comic books made you some sort of miscreant. The crossover appeal to wider markets were either complete failures (Howard the Duck) or contrived as campy comedies (60s era Batman TV show). It hasn't been until recent years the major studios began to take comic books seriously and recognized their mainstream appeal. Better scripts, bigger budgets, more recognizable names cast as lead actors.

Suddenly, it's cool to be a geek.

My kids are lucky. They can talk about superheroes at school without all of the other kids labeling them as dorks. They have nearly 80 years worth of comics available to read. Their favorite characters are being portrayed as worthy role models. The actors that play these characters are being recognized for their charitable work, their kindness, and their generosity. Books featuring comic heroes are printed at every reading level from pre-k through high school. Comic books are more accessible and acceptable now than ever before.

More so, comic books are beginning to be viewed as more than entertainment. Educators are seeing value in them as powerful methods to help kids become better students. Studies are finding that kids who read comic books tend to be more creative and have better vocabularies than kids that don't read comic books. These stories are tools for academic achievement and weapons to fight against illiteracy – nonprofit foundations are finding success in helping low-income and developmentally disabled kids learn to read by using comics. One study even suggested that the vocabulary in comic books is written at a higher grade level than newspapers due to having less space to convey big ideas; this makes comics more complex yet laid out in a visual format that makes sense to kids – even if they don't understand a word, those visual cues help them understand the context and meaning far more than in picture free texts. Despite the differences between comic book stories and traditional literature, comic books are equally valid. They follow the same literary devices as other forms of fiction: character development, plot arcs of conflict to climax and resolution, setting and world building, themes and symbolism.

With that in mind, last weekend provided a moment of pride when I caught my daughter reading her older brother's Guardians of the Galaxy comic book. She identifies with Gamora (the dangerous girl), Rocket (the sarcastic raccoon) and Groot (the friendly yet fiercely protective sentient tree). It was not an easy read for her. She struggled pronouncing some words and frequently asked me to help her sound out a word or tell her the definition of other words. But she made the effort and smiled the whole time.

I am happy to see my kids reading and enjoying comic books. Not just for the reasons I listed above. Yes, it sparks their creativity, expands their vocabulary, and encourages them to enjoy reading. But comic books are still more than that. Comic books carry on the tradition of storytelling that is essential to human existence. This year is Batman’s 75th anniversary, but superheroes are much older. If you take a serious look at human history, you will find that superheroes have been a central aspect of the stories we've told since our ancestors began telling stories.

The ancient Jews had Moses and Abraham, figures that play predominant roles in three different religions. The New Testament book of Hebrews listed the heroes of the faith – people who “conquered kingdoms, performed acts of righteousness, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, from weakness were made strong, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight.” The Egyptians had Isis, Osiris, and Ra. The Greeks had their gods and demigods. The far east had stories of Genghis Khan, Emperor Qin, the samurai, the shoguns, and ronins. The middle ages produced exaggerated stories of the Templars and Europe gave us tales of fairy godmothers, King Arthur, and Robin Hood. Even America’s Wild West had their tall tales of Paul Bunyan, Johnny Appleseed, and Pecos Bill. All superheroes in one form or another.

Throughout time, people from different cultures all over the world have used these stories to remember their histories. They expressed their emotions through these stories. They told and retold these stories to honor individuals. These stories helped them to understand their world.

More than any others, these stories of superheroes communicate what it means to be human – even when the characters featured are more than human. We can't be superhuman ourselves, but we see in them qualities that we desire. Honor. Courage. Strength. Passion. Loyalty. Self sacrifice. Dedication. The ability to fly. Whether it is Jason and the Argonauts quest for the golden fleece or Peter Parker's struggles balancing power and responsibility, superheroes reveal our humanity. They inspire us to be better people. Telling these stories is an essential part of being human.

My older son, inspired by his favorite superhero, Captain America.

Life Lessons Learned

Mork taught me that being weird can be a good thing. Nanu nanu.
Adrian Cronauer taught me to be irreverent and to use music as a coping mechanism.
John Keating taught me to stand up, seize the day, and make my life extraordinary.
Dr. Malcolm Sayer taught me to appreciate life.
Parry The Fisher King taught me that every man needs a quest.
Peter Banning taught me to believe in my inner child.
Batty Koda taught me that only fools are positive.
The Genie taught me the value of a well placed pop culture reference.
Daniel Hillard dressed up as Iphegenia Doubtfire and taught me that nothing is more important than time with my kids.
Alan Parrish taught me the joy of an adventure.
Sean Maguire taught me that it's not my fault.
Hunter 'Patch' Adams taught me about the healing power of laughter.
Rainbow Randolph taught me that friendship is better than rivalry.
Reverend Frank taught me that love should endure all hardships.

But those were just characters.

The man taught me that it's OK to be hirsute. He taught me to accept my flaws and to be honest about my failures. He taught me to smile when everything inside of me wanted to cry.

And today, there are two more lessons I wish to convey.

Depression is a liar.
Suicide sucks.


Please, if you need help, get it. If you need to talk, say something. You are not alone. Someone out there cares about you. Be weird. Appreciate life. And indulge in silly pop culture references.

I'll be here if you need me.

Head Trip

In the category of too much free time... This is the work of an actor, digital displays, and a couple of robots.



Mind blown.

I never wanted to be famous

There was a phase where I had stars in my eyes. But it was just a phase. At that age when most kids had big plans to get rich or make a name for themselves, I was studying architecture. Learning about building codes and blueprints eclipsed the desire for a spotlight. So, that title might be a bit of a misnomer. I never really wanted to be famous.

As my dreams became more realistic and mildly tangible, I've held on to some wildly absurd aspirations.

I never wanted to be a rock star.
But I always wanted to have friends who were.
I never wanted to be a filmmaker.
But I always wanted to have friends who made movies.
I never wanted to be an accomplished author.
But I always wanted to have friends who wrote books.
I never wanted to have my artwork in a gallery.
But I've always wanted to see art from my friends displayed.
I never wanted to be President.
But I've always wanted to be friends with one.
I never wanted to be instantly recognizable anywhere in the world.
But I've always wanted to be stopped by strangers because they recognize my friend.

As I've grown older and truly discovered who I am, I've come to recognize that I find more personal satisfaction in helping others be successful than I do in my own personal successes.

And maybe that's just how I measure my success. By helping others take that next step, by helping them reach their goals.

I want to be that guy that reads through the liner notes of a new album or the acknowledgments of a book and find my name among the list of people thanked.

I want to be that guy that helps a struggling bar band find a bigger audience.
I want to be that guy who helps an indie director debut their first film at a festival.
I want to be that guy encouraging a talented storyteller to put their words onto paper so that it may someday be read by millions.
I want to be that guy that finds new venues for the starving artist to showcase their work.
I want to be that guy that helps the amateur turn pro.

And that might make me weird.

A couple of weeks ago, I started watching Long Way Round. At the very beginning of the first episode, Ewan McGregor said "I wasn't driven toward being famous."

Yes! I'm not alone.

McGregor's full monologue: "I like being successful because that's a mark of my work. But I wasn't driven toward being famous. I'm glad that's the case because you can be satisfied with success but I don't think you'll ever be satisfied with fame because you'll never be famous enough."

That makes sense to me. I'm willing to let my involvement in the successes of others be the mark of my work. I'm at that point in my life where that is enough for me, and I can be satisfied with that.

What are you doing tomorrow night?

Friday nights in downtown Coeur d'Alene. There are several options. Tomorrow night, however, there's something new.

I'll be hanging out with my son at Java on Sherman from 5:35 until whenever for the first ever Coeur Creative meetup. If you're an artist in the Cd'A area - I've love to see you there.

Bring yourself.
Buy a Bowl of Soul. Or a panini.
Tell me what you do.
What inspires you.
What challenges you.
What you want to do with your art.
Eat. Drink coffee. Be merry.
Be you.
Be brave.

The delivery of a dream

An idea had spawned in my head: an artist's support network. I wasn't aware of anything like that in the Coeur d'Alene area and (at the time) did not realize that such a thing existed elsewhere. Like many of my ideas that have come and gone over the years, it stayed in my head for a while.

Fear told me it wasn't possible, or that I'd never be able to pull it off. The voices in my head kept telling me that I had no business helping people achieve things that I was incapable of doing on my own. While I enjoy singing or playing the guitar, I'm not proficient at either. I haven't acted on stage in 13 years. I haven't been able to draw anything more artistic than a stick figure since junior high.

But then an old friend contacted me to fill me in on some big life changes he's going though. We spent some time catching up with each other and in that conversation I eked out a semblance of my idea that sounded to him like an actual plan. He told me it sounded like a great idea - that it's something that's actually needed in Coeur d'Alene. We have an Arts Commission, regular art walks downtown, and several galleries. The annual Art on the Green event is happening this weekend. Cd'A is an artsy town. But most of what exists is built around showcasing art and put on large events. There is little behind the scenes support for the artist. Where do they go to get emotional support? To find resources that they don't have access to? To overcome roadblocks?

That night, as I drifted into slumber, the idea was given a name: Coeur Creative.

For a few weeks, I mulled that name around my mind. I pondered what was possible, what it would look like, and how to make it work. Yet, even then - with the vote of confidence from a friend - I was still too timid to do anything.

Until I saw a blog post asking if anyone was interested in a 24 day adventure. I read on. Jon Acuff - author of the blog (and some awesome books*) stated that the post would only be on his blog for 24 hours then he was taking it down. In that post, he offered a chance of adventure and surprises. He also warned that there would be risk and possibly dragons. If that sounded like something that interested the reader, he asked that we send him an email with our contact information.

I did something that the normal me would never do. I responded. Jon has a million people that read his blog. A little more than 2000 responded; I was one of them. As a result, I got an invite to join The Start Experiment. We were asked what we'd be willing to risk for 24 days. Some people set goals for health and weight loss, others wanted to launch a business or some other entrepreneurial affair. Many were looking at ministry opportunities. Several were artists, writers, photographers, or musicians. From there we were divided out into smaller groups to interact with - to share our dreams and seek support.

My risk was to to make Coeur Creative an actual thing. Get it out of my head and put it before others. To start helping artists take the next step in their dreams. With my risk announced to a group of 2000 people across the globe, and 20 others in my smaller group cheering me on, I've stripped the vocal chords out of fear's windpipe. I started doing something to make my idea a reality.

If I am to help artists along in their journey - the first step in my risk was to find out what artists need. I have some ideas of my own, but my own experiences could only scratch the surface. So I asked.

What would you like to accomplish with your art?

The responses blew me away. To get published. To create art that will be around for many years to come. To turn their part time hobby into a full time career. To make their art a primary, rather than secondary, source of income. To turn pro. To see a musical they've written performed on stage. To make people's live better. To help people tell their stories. To illuminate truth and inspire thought. To celebrate life. To make a difference and leave this world a better place. Bring hope to people, let them know they're not alone. To show others that they have a unique voice.

This.

This is where I want to be, surrounded by people with those kinds of goals. The survey is still open. If you are an artist, I would appreciate your feedback. (It's only five questions, 4 of them are multiple choice, and there are no wrong answers. It won't take you long, I promise.)

We're nearing the end of the 24 day Start Experiment. The final step to getting Coeur Creative started is an actual event. I want to meet you - the artists in Coeur d'Alene area. Or you if you want to make the 5 hour drive over from Seattle or the shorter drive from Western Montana.

Friday the 9th. At Java on Sherman. Starting at 5:35 and lasting until whenever. Head downtown, get a cup of coffee and hang out. I'd like to meet you and find out what you want to do with your art.

If you need extra motivation, I'll have my oldest son with me. Honestly, he's the one of the most creative individuals I know.

---

* If you recall, about a year and a half ago, I was a part of the Quitter 100 to help launch on of Jon's awesome books.

The catylist of a dream

After writing two different blog series about the church, an idea took root. Over the last couple of months, what was once just a dream, became an idea. That idea is turning into a reality.

I have a quirk. I'm not really interested in my own success. I derive more personal satisfaction helping others be successful than I do in my own personal victories. So I envisioned an organization where I could support artists in my community and be the catalyst for their success.

In helping others achieve artistic success, I recognize that many have hurdles too high to jump over. Walls that some might consider unbreakable. Roadblocks that might as well be dead ends. Those challenges may be a creative slump, writer's block, a muse that no longer speaks. It could be fear of failure, performance anxiety, stage fright. It could be time management - conflicting schedules and priorities. Then there are things that can't be done alone. That no matter how talented an individual might be there are occasions where they need a partner, a resource, guidance, support.

All these holes within the artistic community. Places where people need help. Over the past couple months, that idea has become an deafening roar. I can help.

I can be that person. I could be the hub in the center of the wheel that connects the individual spokes to the others. I could be the underwater ridge joining the islands of an archipelago.

Several years ago, my buddy Steve and I took a road trip from Boise to Seattle for an independent musician's conference. The conference was held at the EMP with appearances from bigwigs from Sub Pop and The Seattle Weekly. The highlight (and the reason Steve and I drove there and back) was to do a Q&A session with some really cool people. One was an A&R person from a local music label, another was an editor for an indie magazine. But the third person on the panel was the one I was most excited to meet and talk to: Chris Ballew of The Presidents of the United States of America. If you don't remember PUSA, chances are you were not alive during the mid-90s. (Millions of peaches, peaches for free. Anyone? Anyone???)

Beside the point, I'm getting side tracked.

The Q&A was set up for the panelists to listen to short clips from submitted demo tapes from the bands and musicians that attended; Steve and I had submitted the demo that Steve's band had just finished. After listening to about 20-30 seconds of a song (sometimes two songs), one of the panelists would ask the people that submitted the demo, "What do you want to do next?" Answers ranged from recording a better demo, to wanting a record deal, to building a fan base. Questions arose about how to self promote, how to find studio musicians for a backing band, and copyright issues. Steve and I asked what we needed to do to get noticed outside of Boise. Chris gave us wise advice: "if you can't make it in Boise, you won't be able to make it anywhere else." The last ten years has seen revolutionary changes for musicians. Websites like ReverbNation, Band Camp, and NoiseTrade have created outlets for indie artists to get their songs in front of new listeners with out the assistance of major labels. Crowdfunding has created avenues for artists to finance their projects that didn't exist a few years ago. These changes have made it easier in some respects, but at the same time it's made it harder to be an independent artist. Despite the changes with in the music industry over the past decade, the advice that Chris Ballew and other industry insiders gave to that crowded room at the EMP are just as true today as it was then.

Looking back, that weekend was one of the greatest experiences I've ever had. I learned more in those few hours than I could have anticipated.

The question asked of us is vital to the life of an artist - whether it's a musician or a photographer, a writer or a filmmaker. A woodworker or a painter. The question that must be asked is this: what's next?

What do you want to do?
What do you want to accomplish?
What is your dream?
What is your next step?

For some, these questions might be too big to answer - or at least too big to answer out loud. But, wherever the artist is in their journey - from the kid strumming their first power chords on a $150 guitar in their parent's basement, to the actress taking a bow after the closing night's performance, everyone has a dream. But not everyone knows how to take that step.

I could help people find that next step and help them take it.

The formation of a dream

In the 26 years that have passed since I first listened to Jim Morrison's Grave, my dream has been under refinement.

I took art classes in junior high and got involved with the drama program. I found my voice while on stage pretending to be someone else. Then I wandered away from my dream. Throughout high school, I had my heart set on becoming an architect. But by the time I graduated, I had been reminded of my calling from 1987. I had a plan to go to college for a speech/communications major then return home to get a job as a radio DJ. That plan fell apart as my family could not afford to send me to college. I also met some interns that worked for KNDD in Seattle; they gave me an eye opening glimpse into what it took to break into the radio industry.

With that version of my dream turning sour, I floundered for a while. I knew that someday, I would find my place working with music and art. There was still a kid inside me that wanted to be a rock star despite my crappy singing voice and limited guitar skills. As reality and adult responsibilities took over, I did what ever I could. Running soundboards for churches, concerts, and theatrical productions. Managing and promoting my best friend's band while living in Boise. Hanging out in recording studios while my friends recorded their demo tapes. I spent a little over a year as a DJ in Sioux Falls. When I moved back to Idaho, I helped teach a youth worship band how to play songs and lead worship.

Somewhere in there, the studio became my dream. I felt comfortable behind a soundboard. I daydreamed about how wonderful it would be if I were to produce a hit single. The recording process was alluring to me, but the rise of home studios (with software like Pro Tools and GarageBand) eroded the practicality of opening my own recording studio.

DJing is some of the most fun I've ever had while earning a paycheck. Since returning to Idaho, I've had three gigs, all done for free; my sister-in-law's wedding, the wedding of my wife's best friend, and a junior high dance party. My sister-in-law's reception is probably the best gig I ever played. After that wedding, while driving home, Bekah and I talked about the possibility of me DJing as a job again, but this time doing it on my own. She saw how much fun I had mixing the music, she recognized my talent, she entertained the possibility, and encouraged me to do some research. There aren't any wedding DJs in Coeur d'Alene. You either have to hire a karaoke jockey, or go hire someone from Spokane. The market here would be all mine. But I also understand the crippling funds of buying a mixer, amp, speakers, microphones, and lights - not to mention paying the song royalties that make it legal to be a professional DJ. All conspired to make it cost-prohibitive to start my own DJ business. DJing would also take away my ability to spend weekends with my family.

So, I've operated in stasis.

Then, two years ago, I wrote a series about the church. That we as Christians too easily make people feel out of place and how I've felt like an outcast most of my life. That we let ourselves get wrapped up in issues that don't matter. That we set unrealistic expectations. That we manipulate people with fear. We create unnecessary rules. And we end up pushing people away. I came to a conclusion that we can do better.

As soon as I hit publish on that seventh and final post, my brain started pondering about what would be next. I wrestled with those thoughts about where this would take me. After reading Don Miller's Blue Like Jazz, I marveled at the purpose of his church, Imago Dei - a church that values creativity and is populated by artists, writers, and musicians. It's the kind of church that I could have only dreamed existed.

It was the kind of church I wish existed in Coeur d'Alene.

My dream began to take shape. Someday I'd like to either start or take part in a church that focuses on ministering to artists. But that's someday. I'm not ready for that now. My dream continued to go through revisions until last October, when I wrote about the church's relationship with art. I walked through a brief history of sacred art. I explained how Christians involved in the arts feel abandoned and alone because of the church's tendency to put their artists on pedestals and hold them to double standards. I demonstrated a need for greater creativity within the religious community and explained why artistry matters. I found inspiration in the life of King David and in the words of Leonard Nimoy.

When writing the series of church and art, I came to the same conclusion as when I wrote my first series about the church. We can do better.

Help Wanted: Artists

A while back, I wrote a series on the church and its relationship with artists. Through that, I expressed some frustrations, concerns, and yearning for something better. In the first post of that series, I wrote, "We can do better than that." Not only are we capable of doing better, we need to. Now, I'm going to do something about it.

And you can help. You. Those of you that consider yourselves an artist. Honestly, I don't care if anyone else thinks of you as one. What matters is what you think.

If you're a photographer, an actor, a musician, a first time novelist furiously typing out your manuscript, or the crafty type selling your handmade products on Etsy, this is for you. If you do your art for free or if it is your paycheck, this is for you.

Please click HERE and take a quick survey. Five questions, and only a couple minutes of your time.

Your input will be greatly appreciated.

Church vs. Art part 10: Getting It Right

In the American Midwest, you will find areas populated with free range cattle. These bovine roam and graze unencumbered by fencing or corrals. When they think that the grass is greener on the other side of the road, they cross that road and eat the greener grass. If you happen to be driving along that road, you might discover livestock meandering across the pavement in front of you. Just like pedestrians in suburban and metro locales, those cows have the right of way.

Free range cattle have the good life. They go where they want. They are liberated from the pressures of cowboys and barking herd dogs. No stampedes. No cattle drives. Just food and exercise.

We as artists need to allow our creativity to roam. Free range imagination. Feed our creative muscles and give them exercise. Give it room to wander and see where it finds greener pastures.

When I close my eyes and think of what is possible in the free range of my imagination, I envision a modern church where artists are not only accepted, but encouraged. I see church lobbies turned into a book reading for authors. I see multi-purpose rooms transformed into temporary art galleries. I see film screenings in church gymnasiums and concerts in sanctuaries. I see photographers and painters and singers and thespians all using their chosen forms of expression to speak truth and beauty.

I crave a church that opens its doors to the starving artists and all their eccentricities. A church that welcomes piercings and tattoos and dreadlocks. A church that treasures the stick figure scribblings of a five year old kid, and fosters their talent into a productive and artistic career when that child is no longer a child. A church that ministers to those who spend their lives ministering to others. A church where creative professionals can step off the stage of their day jobs and feel no demands to be on stage in the house of worship. A church that embraces the artist and tells them, “welcome home.”

It is easy for me to look at the relationship between the church and the artist and see the ways in which the church is doing it wrong. I count the errors that are roadblocks to creating the kind of church I long to see.

However, there are people who understand these challenges. There are organizations that are getting it right. These seven entities are either cultivating or propagating artistic expression. They are using creative elements to communicate God’s love. Visit their websites. Support them if you are able. Get involved if at all possible. At least let them inspire you. The church that I dream of is led by groups like these.

People of the Second Chance – Social media, photography, graphic design, short form video, storytelling, and a book. POTSC is a community founded on the principles of living life in light of second chances. Everything that they do is built on the concept that we have been given radical grace and in turn should give grace to others.
Art House America – Books, music, crafts, visual art, theater, culinary art, environmental care, travel, and much more. AHA is the brainchild of Charlie Peacock and his wife Andi Ashworth. They started by providing hospitality to those exploring art, faith, and what they call creative living. They now provide counseling, discipleship, mentoring, and community engagement for a wide variety of artistic pursuits.
To Write Love On Her Arms – Social media, short form video, music, fashion, photography, and public speaking. TWLOHA started as a mission of hope for a suicidal friend. Their connection to a community of musicians gave them a spotlight to fight against suicide and addiction. Through various campaigns, their purpose has grown to battle self mutilation and depression, increase mental health awareness, and encourage treatment for addicts.
I am Second – Short films, digital media, storytelling, public speaking, and a book. Primarily an online community, I am Second is supported by short films from notable celebrities and small groups across the nation telling personal stories of redemption. The films on the website feature musicians, actors, athletes, and politicians. Each tells their perspective of overcoming their struggles or tragedies through God’s intervention.
Hello Somebody – Fashion, music. Hello Somebody markets their own products as a means to fund relief projects. You buy a watch and they give much needed support elsewhere. Their campaigns include providing livestock to a school in Rwanda, helping the victims of sex trafficking, bringing clean water and sanitation to a community in Guatemala, and rebuilding efforts in Joplin, MO after tornadoes devastated the area last year. And their watches are snazzy.
The Identity Shift – Visual media, multi-media, short form video, animation, written word. The Identity Shift provides encouragement and support for the understanding and application of the gospel.
Lights Out – Lights Out is unique on my list because it isn’t ministering through artists but instead is ministering to artists. They provide pastoral support and hospitality to travelling musicians.

Church vs. Art part 9: Finally

If the nerd world practiced the tradition of sainthood, Leonard Nimoy would be the patron saint of all things geeky. Through the years, thanks to his groundbreaking role as Star Trek’s Spock, he has become a pop culture icon. Whatever wisdom he has gained through his 81 years on this planet, he imparted in the Fine Arts Convocation speech for Boston University’s graduating class of 2012.

His words, filled with humor and insight, were intended for an audience that had spent the past four years studying art as an academic pursuit in hopes that their collective talents would be put to the best possible use. In it, he posed a few questions that are not only essential to the creative process, but questions everyone should ask themselves. “What is the work about? What does it say to a contemporary audience? What light does it cast on our lives and on the issues that concern us and connect us? Indeed, how does it help to heal the world?” The answers to those questions give us a foundation to build upon.

Nimoy closed his address with a challenge, “You are the creators and curators of your own lives. You create your own life and your own work. Give us your best. Give us the best of your art. We crave it. We hunger for it. Help us to see ourselves, to know ourselves. Illuminate our lives.” This should be the goal of every artist.

How do we accomplish this feat within the realm of Christian morals? How do we stay honest and creative while honoring the God we worship? How do we push boundaries but stay within the limits prescribed by scripture? How can we be brave while giving the best of our art?

Paul, in his letter to the church in Phillipi, gave us a list of words to live by. If we, as artists, remain faithful to these values within our creations we will never stray beyond God’s will for our art. “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8 NIV)

This is a checklist that gives us the strength to endure criticism, scorn, and outright mockery. Within these bounds we give our imagination free reign. We can confidently face our critics and speak. You don’t approve of my style? That’s OK because it is pure and noble. You don’t agree with my message? That’s fine, because it is true and admirable.

This liberates us to enjoy both success and failure. This allows us to learn, grow, and improve. In this, we gain liberty to create in times of joy and mourning. There is a time to laugh and a time to lament and we are free to do both within the bounds of Philippians 4:8.

These are the closing remarks that Paul gives to the Philippians. This is the “ps” to his letter. The exhortation is preceded by the word “Finally.” It is as if he is saying, “If you haven’t been paying attention to anything I’ve said before, you better start listening now. Finally, these words are of the utmost importance. Finally, if you forget everything else, at least remember this.”

From translation to translation, there is not an inglorious word among them. A few years ago I compiled the various terms used in this one verse from each of the English versions of the Bible for a presentation to a youth group. Collectively, this is a framework for us as artists. This should be the cornerstone for all we create.

Finally, whatever is true, honest, honorable, excellent, sooth, seemly, pleasing, compelling, commendable, of good fame, of good repute, of good report, truly worthwhile, the best, good, noble, respected, reputable, full of pleasantness, friendly, amiable, well thought of, kind, winsome, right, admirable, straight, fair, just, proper, holy, chaste, righteous, acceptable, pure, modest, clean, authentic, gracious, beautiful, lovely, lovable, worthy of respect, worth giving thanks for, worthy of reverence, of any virtue, brings praise to God, praising of discipline, or worthy of praise…

Think about such things. Just think.

ps. If you haven’t watched Leonard Nimoy's speech, you should.