What am I doing here?

there, or anywhere?

It’s my last day in Good Hart, Michigan where I was fortunate to be invited to spend a week as Artist in Residence. I didn’t apply or seek it out. Someone cancelled, and they offered it to me. When opportunities like this show up, you don’t question it, you just say “YES!” and figure out how to rearrange your commitments to make it happen. I didn’t know what to expect and I tried really hard not to have expectations. My spouse and close friends reminded me not to put too much undue pressure on myself to create something magnificent. “Just enjoy the gift of time and don’t worry about a finished project.” On past vacations or even weekend retreats, I’ve made the mistake of over estimating how much I can get done in a certain amount of time, bringing piles of papers, notebooks, instruments, and various art supplies only to find that I’m as distractable in a quiet, peaceful, serene, environment as I am in my own home. For this residency, I thought I had packed only a realistic amount. My 3 Gibsons (as I like to call them) - the Hummingbird, the tenor and my banjo; a piano (just started taking lessons again after 50 years and a week without practice would be a setback); my laptop (actually 2 … don’t ask); a crate with random notebooks filled with song fragments, printed song lyrics, one tote bag filled with water color paper, a tool box with paint and drawing supplies. As for clothes, 3 sweaters, 3 pairs of jeans, 2 pairs of sweat pants, several tank tops and a couple long sleeved tops - in my defense, it was 7 days and I wanted options. Most of those items went unworn as, save for clean underwear and socks each day, I mostly stayed in the sweat pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt that says “Indoorsy” on it. Oh and too much food.

It’s November in Northern Michigan and though average temps are on the rise, it wasn’t exactly beach weather. Did I mention that Lake Michigan is just across the street with lake access only a short walk away? I feel fortunate that I have experienced my fair share of magnificent sunsets over this big beautiful lake so when the clouds, rain, and cold kept me from her pull it wasn’t a huge disappointment. Still, I was able to engage with her a few times.

So what did I do with my time here? As I mentioned, I had no plan or expectations other than to see where the spirit took me. I settled in, enjoyed a welcome meal with my delightful hosts, Sue & Bill Klco, and then immediately opened my computer to the Masterwriter app, which is populated with unfinished songs. After a couple of hours messing around with my latest effort, I hit a wall and got on zoom with Rod for a bit.

This has been the longest stretch of time we’ve been apart and all of the other times, at least I had other company. So the daily morning and evening Zooms helped me to miss him a tiny bit less. But only a tiny bit less. I don’t think I was fully prepared for the intense loneliness that would creep in at night. I’m usually pretty good on my own. I don’t get bored. I can always find ways to keep busy and that was never an issue here. Still, no matter how many times I repeated the “no pressure” mantra, I frequently felt like there was more I SHOULD have been doing. I played with water color, I practiced the banjo and piano a little bit each day but mostly, I worked on the songs. Nothing new, though. At least not till yesterday when I was giving some thought to what we might play at the annual Concert for Peace on Tuesday. I don’t write political songs. I have some socially conscious stuff but nothing of my own or even a cover that we haven’t already played was feeling right. Lately, when I’m hoping the inspiration will strike, I sit with my guitar and start picking until what I’m playing sounds interesting. Yesterday, I was doing this and a couple of lines came out.

Words don’t come easy
When you don’t see the point

I was lamenting the point of trying to write and how hard it is to find the words. But then something else happened.

The ones who you want to reach
Can’t hear through their own noise

That was heading in a direction that makes me uncomfortable. I don’t talk politics with anyone who disagrees with me. I don’t even try. I just assume it’ll turn ugly and I feel like I can’t articulate my own reasoning anyway. So I just avoid the subject.

Who am I, anyway?
What use is my voice?

I mean seriously. Who am I to tell someone else they’re point of view is wrong?

But I kept going and the rest with a bit of rearranging, fine-tuning and thoughtful word adjustments, came out pretty quickly.

I don’t bother anyone
I mind my own nest
Am i part of the problem
If i don’t shake my fist
Who am i anyway?
can’t we just coexist?

I know nothing’s that simple
When there’s too much to lose
walking around blindly
In my privileged shoes
Who am i anyway?
What the hell can i do?

Avoiding the question
And the look in their eyes
frozen in silence
Amid their battle cries
Who am i anyway?
If i’m not willing to try?

Who am i?

Words don’t come easy
They get caught on my tongue
So I’ll borrow from the poets
And the much smarter ones
who am i anyway
i’m a song to be sung
And there’s work to be done

To quote the late great Townes Van Zandt in his interview with Matt Watroba about the song If I Needed You, “…if you had been sitting in that chair, you would have written that song”. And while I would never deem to compare my writing to Townes’, I believe this song would not have happened to me if I had not been in that place.

Here is the recording I captured on my phone (since decided to cut that last line).

That does it for this, my first, substack post. Would love to hear your thoughts if you’re reading this!