A story without love is not worth telling...

I bought a piece of artwork with this message. I’m not one to normally buy ‘real art’, but it spoke loudly to me. In fact, shouted to me from the computer, 'Hey idiot, listen up! This applies to you.' It’s by Hugh MacLeod, a cartoonist and blogger I’ve been following ever since I read his book Ignore Everybody. For anyone working in a creative realm, I highly recommend you give it a read. And for those who have experienced the trauma of ‘pick up and move to a big city to follow your art’, particularly the big apple, you will find it hilarious.

Following the calling of your art can be a dark and lonely path. Playing to an audience of three can be a shockingly disheartening experience. While the random old man at the bar was indeed a new 'fan', he was more likely an alcoholic willing to sit through my set. And it’s hard to keep the game face on when he’s surrounded by empty bar stools. (I will be forever grateful to my dear Galia Arad, a fellow musician, who was not only in attendance that night, but signed my email list bobdylanwentthroughthis@f!*#it.com. You need all the levity you can muster on nights like those.)

But what was I doing in that lonely Lower East Side dive to begin with? It wasn’t for cheap drinks, that’s for sure. Is it just what an artist is supposed to go through? Maybe so, maybe not. Some people are luckier than others in that regard. But the point is that I sure as hell wasn’t having fun. And if you can’t have fun playing to nobody, then you may not have fun playing to a full room either. Because reality is things can always go wrong, and often do. Nothing is ever perfect.

A story without love is not worth telling.

This is very much my mantra these days and something I have to remind myself of constantly. (Hence the need for it to be hanging just above my keyboard. Sometimes subtle just doesn’t work for me.) I don’t know if this is an uncommon struggle, but I had gotten so caught up in the entrepreneurial side of trying to make music, I had managed to slowly but surely squeeze the joy right out of it. And then you have the rude awakening of waking up one day and wondering what the hell you’re doing. Or at least, I did.

Because if the love part of the equation is absent, you can’t hide from it. It shows in your music and it shows in people’s reaction to your music. Part of my struggle is that I’m never completely satisfied - there is always room to improve. But then I stop and listen to the music that I absolutely adore, and it’s not the raw skill that speaks to me. It’s the fact that you can hear the love in the story, in the voice, in the music. There’s no substitute for passion. Maybe it was the soundtrack to a passionate moment, who knows. But I guarantee it was the emotion that got to you.

So here’s to slowing down a bit and paying attention. To not making life any more complicated than it needs to be. If we LOVE what we do, and instill it in our art, in our actions, in our goals, then it will be heard. And I truly believe that is what people actually want to hear.

Stop and think about it. What’s your favorite song? Why? Feel free to comment and let me know.

Learn more about me and my music at http://www.brittneal.com