An Artist's Guide to Post-Corporate Life

It's been three weeks since I took the leap from my corporate job and I'm still adjusting to this new freeform lifestyle.

Whether you work out of a home studio or write every day at a coffeeshop, you'll likely relate to this at some part of your journey.

I'm learning these little things about myself that make a big difference to my daily vibe and productivity. Things like:

>>> I have to get out of the house every morning before noon. Even if I wake up early to begin work/writing/recording from home, this is essential to preventing cabin fever and depression in the later hours when I should be getting my second wind.

>>> A little bit of yoga and/or meditation first thing in the morning is a priority.

>>> Schedule early meetings and calls to build momentum.

>>> I actually enjoy cooking my own food fresh now and completing these embarrassing meal prep rituals for the week. I shredded my first organic carrot last night. I own a garlic press now. It's wild if you knew how empty my fridge was before. I no longer have the same excuses, so I make the time which is in turn making me healthier and maybe even more creative.

>>> Time management is something I am way more aware of now, especially when people run late. I have to set all the boundaries for myself which is a tall order. There's no on/off switch when you are hustling as a creative entrepreneur.

>>> I have to give myself a lot of pep talks with the lack of feedback that comes from a 9-to-5 office environment. I'm allowing myself room to grow through it and realizing how much of my identity is still wrapped up in external things. But in the end so many signs are showing me I made the right decision.

I reached out to a few friends of Still Mind and they had a few more notes:

"I will add "take breaks often!" to the list. At first I thought it was a sign of weakness but I've learned it keeps me overall more productive over the course of the day. I have also noticed my endurance has increased over time so the frequency and length of breaks are totally fluid." - Erin Yvonne Stewart Meadows 

"I found a book, DAILY RITUALS (I listened to the audio book since I take a lot of road trips) and I found it to be both inspiring and affirming. There are so many variations: people who are creative at night, those who need to drink tons of coffee or lots of liquor or BOTH. Of course, this book is about the creative processes of historical composers, authors, inventors, etc. It's so insightful!! Check it out if you haven't already. I'm still trying to figure out what works for me!" - Lisa Murray
 

It's Time To Remove The Band-Aid: An Artist's Guide to Endings

I have a really hard time quitting things, which makes it even harder to start. Just thinking about the pain of an ending is enough to deter me from beginning in the first place. Unfortunately, it turns out that most things, good and bad, come to an end. You just can’t avoid it.

If I’ve learned anything from the past several years in music, it's that sometimes you have to give up to let go. Whether it's finishing a song or splitting up a band or walking away from a deal, when you know a chapter is closing, you just know. Don't hold on, drag it out, or try to keep the door pried open. Make a move while you still have a good mind about things. Before it gets painful to the point it blinds you. Trust your intuition when it’s time to remove the band-aid. 

I only recently discovered the gravity of the band-aid analogy this month when I made a few difficult endings. Here’s the thing about bandaids:

Patrick Fore

1. Band-aids are temporary. Notice and accept the fact that people, jobs, and other experiences come into our lives to serve a specific purpose. When that purpose has been fulfilled its time to move on. Let those things go, so you can receive your next gift and they can be of service to someone else. 
2. Most importantly, the universal purpose of a band-aid is to heal. We've all got issues we are consciously and/or subconsciously working to resolve. There are patterns that continue to show up in our lives and teach us. Taking the time to step back and be aware of how current situations are helping us reconcile the past makes it clearer to see when it’s time to move forward. It doesn’t make it easy, but it helps. I had to recognize that fear was the reason I kept a job that no longer suited me. I had to acknowledge that I was burned by a few business interactions and that my next partnership was about learning to trust again more than anything else. That didn't mean it was meant to last forever. I let it go. My goals had shifted, and I needed to make a change to be intentional about my future. 

It's one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. But the more comfortable I get with the uncomfortable task of closing doors, the easier it becomes for me to open new ones.  

An Artist's Guide to Creating Sacred Space

Know thyself, know thy space. In your home. In your relationships. In yourself. This process is sometimes overlooked in the hurry to create more art and do more work, but it really is an essential tool for any lifestyle. 

I look at external spaces as direct conversations with the internal. An environment that reflects my ideal vibe on the inside lets me create more freely. 

This is me seeing inspiration as the muse and the muse is a guest to be welcomed in as warmly as a lover. I light the proverbial fireplace for her. Intentionally setting the tone in my space sends a private message to the body and mind that says, “relax, this is where the magic happens."

How do you create sacred space in your studio/workspace/home? My loft often serves as all three. Here’s a list of small things that have added up for me:

via Henry McIntosh

1. White Walls . I used to spend a lot of time figuring out what I wanted on my walls, where to hang it, how it would read to people visiting, and how long I wanted to see it on a daily basis. All of that unnecessary noise faded when I decided to leave my walls blank. My mantra since then has been “clear head, clear walls.” Leaves more room for imagination. And functions well for last minute photo shoots.
2. Mood Lighting. Investing in a wi-fi connected lighting system felt like a nerd luxury at one time, but now after a year’s worth of use it's one of the most important pieces in my home and studio. With the geofencing feature my lights turn on before I open the front door, and I can set the theme from my phone with a tap of the app. When I sit down to work on a song I usually wash the room in bluish purple hues, but my theme for reading/more domestic duties is reds and creams. 
3. The Kettle. As a singer I’ve criminally underestimated the health benefits of hot water. After my friends at the Chopra Center sent me some of their organic ginger tea, I realized I was doing it wrong and finally bought an old school water kettle. It’s a bath for the senses when you think about it: the high pitched whistle when the water hits a boiling point, the steam on my face as I’m pouring it to brew, and of course that herbal taste and smell. It’s all simple preparation for a working session that makes a difference.
4. Smoke + Oil. Small spaces can easily be compromised by the wrong scent, but the ritual of lighting incense not only neutralizes the air but also adds a calming routine to my day. My default is original Nag Champa. For the bathroom I use eucalyptus oil (an essential by NOW Foods) to open the sinuses while I shower.
5. Wireless Sound. Bluetooth speakers are pretty standard these days, but I underestimated the power of having one that is reliable, portable, and sounds great all the time. I use a Bose Soundlink, which lets me seamlessly pass a song from my headphones to the room as I walk in the door. It's uncomplicated and it's worth it.

Bonus: There’s a very strong book with a fluffy title out there that has really changed the way I view my space and my things. The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. I intend to post a follow-up focused on the rules in this bestseller. I also look forward to highlighting other artists and their unique ways of creating sacred space. If you have any ideas, please email them here. 

4 Essential Lessons from 2015

1. Build a tribe. When you know who you are and where you want to go, the people in your circle should reflect that. When you don't have a place to fit in, it takes intention to build a community where you do.

I was effectively on my own at the beginning of the year. Having let go of the team I had spent the last 3 years working with, it was both a sigh of relief and a point of pressure.

Instead of feeding my insecurities, I focused on the creative scene I wanted to live in and paid attention to the people around me who were already there. It went beyond just working on tracks or hopping on a lineup. More like three-hour coffee talks and agenda-free vibe sessions at my home studio. Those same one-on-ones led to other opportunities to connect, from after-hours warehouse parties to mini-tours in other cities and states.

Everywhere I went, I made a point to be interested in others and be genuine with my artist story, my growth process, and my vision for Still Mind. Putting myself out there attracted people of like-mind who were able to contribute to my cause, because without even trying I was adding to theirs.

2. Be generous. With your ideas, with your truth, and with your expressions of gratitude. Doors will begin to unlock. If I wasn't vocal about my vision and my process with the people who were open to me, StillMind.co as you see it wouldn't exist. After months of planting seed after seed and talking ideas through in LA with my friend and creative director Brett, it all came together on a flight home from Tokyo. At first it took a lot of vulnerability to say, "Here's something I'm working through. I'm not sure yet of all the pieces. What do you think?" But because I had a tribe of people I could trust, I was able to take that step.

3. Live patience. If persistence (aka hustle) is one side of the coin, then patience is the other. When putting together the video for the song "Relapse" I knew we'd be up against a lot of constraints - budget, resources, and time of course being a huge one. But the priority was the creative. By establishing quality as the main hustle, we had no choice but to make patience just as much a part of the plan as everything else. Personally, I had to embody patience.

With a handpicked team of talent and crew devoting time, shoot days had to be pushed back to accommodate other jobs (months). Concept had to be reworked and re-framed based on a few essential meetings (days). Many collaborators came right when we needed them like Sophia Stoller, the choreographer behind all of the key body movements in the video. A friend from college I hadn't seen in years, she appeared in my feed on a day I felt we had stalled. And she was perfect. It would not have been the same had we compromised earlier, or skipped any part of the process before. 

When it was all said and done, a video we initially brainstormed in April was released in December. And it was worth every minute.

4. Every day is day one. 2015 was all about forming the right habits - all of the rituals that could help me sustain as a human being first, and then as an artist. The one game-changing mental shift in all of this was to see each day as a new beginning. Maybe I skipped a day of meditation, but it didn't matter because I could pick it back up the next. Instead of beating myself up over the song I didn't finish yesterday, I could start fresh on a new writing session today. I broke my goals down into micro-achievements I could rack up to boost myself up with. If I could just lay the yoga mat out, that was worth something - and made it easier to get down to the practice for that day.

Now that the cycle of the Shift EP is winding down, this is a motto I have to repeat to beat the limits of perfectionism on my next project.

Forget about New Year's resolutions. Every day is a new chance to set an intention, re-commit to yourself, and take another step in the right direction.

Photo via Diane Jong.

An Artist's Guide to Gratitude

I used to think gratitude was just some fluffy word that people used to momentarily escape reality - tacked onto to the names of cafes in LA where smoothies cost $17.

The word ‘gratitude’ for me was a privilege reserved only for those who already had it all. While the haves got 'gratitude,' the have-nots settled for a simple 'thanks.' It was different. Gratitude was a lifestyle you had to literally buy into, or so I thought.

Now that I'm a bit wiser, I've come to realize that gratitude is more a useful mindset than anything else, and much more than a flag-waving gesture of those whose material needs are met.

Yeah, I'm grateful to have woke up in a warm bed this morning and to not think twice about how much I'll be eating today. I'm thankful for family and friends who are close and caring. I never want to take it for granted.

But on a deeper level, I'm learning to use gratitude as an everyday motivation in the face of great resistance, to stay sane on the roller-coaster like pursuit of my vision.

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

— Theodore Roosevelt

For artists and entrepreneurs, the comparison complex is more complicated than keeping up with the Joneses. We're not looking over at someone else's lawn, we're looking at their social media presence. We're looking at the Soundcloud plays. We're looking at press features and media sales.

Most of us have a problem accepting (let alone celebrating) our successes without some kind of self-shading detraction based on the public stats of others.

I came face to face with this over drinks with a friend last week. Bummed on the lackluster numbers of our last releases and deferred dreams of getting on the next level (whatever that means), I had to check-in with myself. Taking inventory of the last year,

1. Did I grow personally and artistically? Yes.
2. Did I act on my intentions? Did I do shit I've never done before? Yes.
3. Did I do my best work? Am I proud of the work I put out? Very.
4. Did any of it move the needle? I don't know. My ego says not much. It's probably too soon to tell.

But for 3 out of 4 of these questions, I made a difference. That's something to be thankful for. That's at least some kind of consolation I can take to the bank and tap into for a couple months so I can finish the next big thing. Even when it sucks, I have to remember all the people who even wish they had a chance.

That, in and of itself is enough to keep going. That's gratitude with a purpose.