And some delightful paradoxes
There’s a wonderful quote, attributed to Henry J. Kaiser –
“When your work speaks for itself, don’t interrupt.”
I don’t know in what context the famous industrialist said that, but I generally like the advice. I also can’t completely follow it.
Someone else said, “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” Seems that’s been attributed to a number of notables, its origin unclear.
I ponder these quotes as I find they present certain paradoxes. Artists have to say something about their art, usually, even if it’s minimal. “Here’s a song I wrote last week,” actually gives an audience a lot of context. From that we know we’re going to hear a new song, and an original song, by the singer. So naturally we then perceive it differently than we might if the singer simply started in playing the song cold.
Then you have artist statements, which can present a resounding rejection of Mr. Kaiser’s advice, as illustrated by one of my favorite interweb properties, the Instant Artist Statement Bollocks Generator. (Hours of fun, that!)
And I can see dancing about architecture. Surely, why not? Dance about anything, I dance about frogs. I will swim about poetry this morning.
This last year or two, or four or five – the hazy continuum of societal madness we surf, trying not to lose our own minds – I’ve been on a prolific creative roll as a songwriter and home record producer. As I’ve mentioned before, part of it is therapy, for lack of a better word, processing it all, and trying to keep my head and heart right. And I have become quite free with my words – free associating, as they call it in Therapylandia – trusting instinct with curiosity to learn what’s going on between my ears.
In the course of these adventures, I started calling some of my songs Beet Poetry, in an obvious nod to bongos and the Beat Generation, and vegetables.
One of my favorites from this batch is Me And The Little This Is Fine Fire Doggie
Really fine therapy, that was, and I’ve been grateful to learn from some friends that it provided them too with some soothing medicine.
So looking back on recent years, I’ve made more new original song recordings than I ever expected or planned to. Paradoxes upon paradoxes, these interesting times provide a wealth of inspiration, though I would prefer a stable, rational society. Travel and friends and work and family and conversations and births and deaths all in, I seem to be inspired generally, these days. And I have this new song I’ll publish this weekend, which is a celebration of all of that.
There’s another quote I remember from childhood, “The world is as you see it.” It’s from a famous Indian guru, whose name escapes me, though I’m pretty sure the idea has been passed down for millennia. It’s another imperfect but useful thought, and I work with it. Since we are each a perceiver of the world, the world exists within each of us, and therefor how we perceive it is how it is. And extending from that, those around us may tend to pick up our vibes and see things similarly — I mean, if you’re around people who are miserable, that can tend to rub off, and same if you’re around happy healthy creative joyful generous people. So a gift we can offer others is to try and be well and happy ourselves.
The Vogons, brilliant invention of Douglas Adams in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, are not happy beings. They are miserable, and they would prefer it if you are as well. I liked it best when they were safely ensconced in that hilarious work of fiction, but somehow, apparently, they have leaped out of the book and were put in charge of our federal government. This too shall actually pass, and I address the matter directly, in my new song!
Let us dance about architecture and eels, celebrating life, the universe and everything, standing on the desks, my Captains, and willing a Renaissance to be.
Yours fondly,
Eric Din
Berkeley Cat Records
reposted from my Substack
