Ideally, for an artist the concept of practice is never
really over. Mastering one particular piece of your art form opens the door to
three new pieces. This had already weighed heavy on my hemispheres when my old
lady began chiding me for not honing my passions. Of course, this got under my
skin as only the ones that love us most can do. After she detonated the truth
bomb, she kissed me and went to bed. This left me alone with my worst nightmare
– my inner monologue.
It started with the basics: “Who the fuck does she think she
is – trying to lecture me about practice like I’m some new kid with his first
instrument? How dare she come at me sideways with all the shit I’ve
accomplished? I could teach a goddamn class on my art form.” So after I
finished downing that last sip of negativity, a much softer voice came in, “Well,
how much time have you spent really polishing your craft? How actively do you
pursue other methods to expand your knowledge? How are you gonna chase the
greats when you won’t put in the work to be great yourself?”
Now, let me clarify – this is not a pity party. I am one
seriously talented brother. I have spent a lot of time, effort, and other
peoples’ money to get on the level that I’m at. I think what my angel and my
mind were trying to tell me is that the danger is in resting and getting
complacent. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly talent can turn to
mediocrity and skills can atrophy. We all know the saying, “Use it or lose it.”
I have the great fortune of having an amazing peer network
and – considering the well-known statistics of success in my field – most are
doing well. We all Facebook stalk and sometimes it’s easy to do the envy dance.
“He’s getting all that recognition? My crew totally stole that last show we did
together.” The small voice was back, “Well, John, it might be because while you
were on Facebook for an hour, your friends were in the studio.” Stupid
self-awareness.
My dad used to always say the instrument never lies. He
would say it before school, when I sat down to practice, after concerts, and
just before I left for college. I knew that those were his words to me to
motivate me to put in work, but the words never resonated with me. That is,
until some jerk with my best interests at heart reminded me in her own way of
my father’s mantra. So now I hear, “You’ve reached a new level. It’s time to
buckle down and rock even harder, ‘cause you’re playing in a new league.”
“Your instrument never lies.”
I am truly going to enjoy sharing my truth with you.