New Music: “Shadows At Twilight”

William: Hey, Jack, I’ve got a new piano piece! With this piece I now have enough music to complete a new album. It’ll be all solo piano–meaning I’ll have 1 piano album and 7 glass armonica albums. I still have my ‘post-production’ to do to turn it into a finished product, which should take a few weeks.

Jack: Congratulations! Let’s hear this new piece. What’s it called?

William: Shadows at Twilight.

• Here's the the whole piece (8:20)
• Here's the the first 30 seconds
• Here's the the score

Jack: I like it! The title is a little curious, however: are there shadows at twilight? <wink!>

William: Nice. Don’t I get some artistic license or something?

Jack: Not from me! Interesting that it’s over 8 minutes long–on the longish side as music pieces go.

William: Yes. I know that’s a bit of an issue for folks downloading mp3s of it–which is why I also have the 20 second samples. But that’s only an issue once–the one time they download it–after that they can play it as many times as they want without that delay. Meanwhile, sometimes a ‘short story’ won’t do–sometimes you really need a ‘novel’. Some moods just take more time to create.

Jack: Reminds me of how Beatles era songs had to be less than 3 minutes long to be played on the radio. That’s all the time the radio stations allowed for music between commercials. If a song was longer than that, it wouldn’t get radio play!

William: I didn’t know that! And of course there’s a similar issue for TV, where the heroine only has 40 minutes to save the world–60 minutes minus 20 minutes for commercials! Meanwhile, I think many of the best things in Life just need the time they need–a good meal, love making, sunsets–but when commercial media is involved, time is money!

Jack: And understandably so. TV studios, for example, and the whole infrastructure for distributing TV is pretty darn expensive. Same goes for movies.

William: That whole concept of taking the time–making the time for something is an issue I constantly struggle with.

Jack: Don’t we all!! In many ways a true measure of a person’s priorities is how they spend their time–and money, which is pretty darn closely related. Of course that can be complex. All kinds of folks make providing for their family the top priority, so off they go to work every day. Then their secondary priorities kick in with their discretionary time and money. We’re all a complex mix of primary and secondary priorities.

William: Sure. But at the same time, if someone says “I want to be a novelist” but never spends any time writing, they’re kidding themselves.

Jack: That’s true. I’m reminded of the famous Woody Allen saying: “80% of success is showing up.” Showing up for practice, showing up to your word-processor if you’re a writer, showing up for your kids’ school plays if you’re a parent…

William: So the challenge for me is to be conscious of my choices about how I invest my time. To do reality checks of looking at how I am actually spending my time and cross-checking that with what I’ve been telling myself my priorities are.

Jack: Like Mr. Socrates said: “The unexamined life is not worth living!”

William: This all ties in with a book that I’ve been meaning to tell you about: The War of Art, by Stephen Pressfield. The premise of his book is that success in Your Art–which in his book includes any Great Task for you: starting a business, writing that novel, learning yoga, losing weight–that the great challenge is ‘showing up’:

“There’s a secret that real writers know that wannabe writers don’t, and the secret is this: It’s not the writing part that’s hard. What’s hard is sitting down to write.”

Think about Tiger Woods. Do you think a day goes by when he doesn’t get out his clubs and practice his swing–in the hotel lobby on rainy days, if necessary? Does Jack LaLane miss a day doing his calisthenics? Does the devoted monk skip his daily prayers, even when he’s not in the mood?

Pressfield calls that “turning pro”–professional:

The word amateur comes from the Latin root meaning “to love”. The conventional interpretation is that the amateur pursues his calling out of love, while the pro does it for money. Not the way I see it. In my view, the amateur does not love the game enough. If he did, he would not pursue it as a sideline, distinct from his “real” vocation.

Pressfield point out that we already have ‘turned pro’ about a lot of things in our lives: our jobs, our relationships–we commit to ‘showing up’ every day to make them work. Or we get fired–by our bosses and our amours! So it’s really a concept that’s already familiar to all of us.

Many times I’ve thought of myself as not being very disciplined, and yet my life is full of all sorts of self-disciplines: I never have any internal debate about stopping at red lights, or brushing my teeth every day, or paying my bills–there is a long, long list of things where I just do what I need to do without any muss or fuss. Well, maybe I fuss a little about paying the bills <grin!>, but it never seriously occurs to me to skip doing that altogether.

Then, the trick is realizing that you can take that Discipline skill, that you really already have in abundance, and consciously apply it to new areas of your life when you are so moved.

Along those lines I’ve been trying an experiment lately. Now mind you, I’ve composed about 200 titles so far in my composing career, so I like to think I’ve been investing the time. But it’s been pretty haphazard–I might compose all day one day, then not at all for a couple days, like that. So lately I’ve been trying the ‘Pressfield Plan’–’showing up’ every day to the music paper. Not all of the music that results from that is good, of course–that’s what recycle bins are for! But there really is something different about making that commitment to just ‘show up’–every stinkin’ day. Some crazy days that may mean getting up early. But there’s something amazing about showing–proving–your devotion to Your Muse by giving her attention every single day. Just like you need to give your boss and your amour attention every day. And your boss, your amour, and The Muse–they all respond in kind.

This doesn’t mean you can never take a day off. Rather, it’s the difference between ‘showing up’ being the rule with the occasional–and conscious–exception, as opposed to what you were doing before where ‘showing up’ was the exception–it was haphazard, and not the rule.

The big surprise has been that just ‘showing up’ has been the hardest part–that the first note is by far the hardest to compose. The next note and the note after that come far more easily.’

Jack: I look forward to hearing how this works out for you.

New Music: “A Leaf in the Wind”

(Time for another visit with my friend Jack …)

William: Hey, Jack, good to see you again!

Jack: Always a pleasure, my friend!

William: The news about the economy lately is sure amazing. It’s an astonishing and sad thing to behold.

Jack: Yes, there’s a lot of misery out there. How are you doing?

William: I’m doing fine. But I’ve been where a lot of those folks are right now.

Jack: Really? Do tell…

William: Well, in the 1990′s I got sucked into the computer-tech craze. I was a “contract programmer”—basically a “temp” doing 6-9 month contracts for various companies in the Seattle area. There was amazing money to be made doing that. By the end of the 90′s, however, I knew the whole tech-bubble would crash—far too many start-ups with absolutely no idea how they would actually make money someday. In Seattle there were only a few big firms that weren’t software companies—Boeing was one of them, so I got myself a contract there to “weather the storm”. And the tech-world did indeed crash in 2000–but I was OK at Boeing. Then one Tuesday morning, 9/11/2001, all of us there at Boeing watched those planes fly into the Twin Towers. I was watching this, standing next to the folks who had personally designed and built those planes. It utterly defied comprehension.

(Pause)

Jack: As I recall, the whole air-travel industry pretty much augured into the ground after that.

William: It sure did. So Boeing had to lay off all its contractors and lots of their full-time employees. They kept me around longer than most, but eventually it was my turn to go.

Jack: And you couldn’t find another job?

William: No. And I had a good resumé. Just a year prior I could hit “send” on my resumé and my phone would start ringing within an hour. At this point, however, the software field was truly on life support, and there were just no positions. “We wish we had something for you, but we just don’t.”

Jack: So what happened?

William: I tried everything I could think of, but it wasn’t enough. I ultimately lost my house and went bankrupt. Music, which had been part-time income all along, was now my sole source, so the judge let me keep my glass armonica, other music equipment, my 10-year-old truck and basic personal stuff. After the final bankruptcy hearing I went out to my truck and wept. I was just stumped, and beaten.

Jack: That is tough, my friend.

William: Yes—those were dark days…

(Pause)

Jack: So, what did you do next?

William: Well, the “good” part about being reduced to zero is that you have complete freedom on how you rebuild your life. I decided that if I was going to be broke, I’d rather be broke doing something I really believed in instead of doing something just “for the money”—especially when the money was gone! Computers had been easy money, and I had succumbed to that siren song—and crashed on the rocks—just like Homer warned us. Mind you, I’ve known folks who really love programming itself—they eat and breathe it. But I wasn’t one of them.

Jack: Apparently you settled on music.

William: Yes.

Jack: So you say you’re doing music because “you believe in it”.

William: Yes!

Jack: And not because “it’s fun” or for “fame and fortune”?

William: Well, I won’t deny that when you’re doing what is fundamentally your path, it is also fun—just as my colleagues who really love computer programming were constantly lost in an amazing zen state when they were coding difficult algorithms.

Jack: And what about “fame and fortune”? (Grin!)

William: (Laughs.) I don’t know about that! The thing is, however, that although few musicians are wealthy, it’s still eminently possible to make a reasonable living at it—as long as you approach your craft like a professional.

Jack: You still haven’t explained “you believe in it…”

William: Right. Well, my 2001 crash-and-burn wasn’t my first trip to the “dark side of life”–as a teenager my youngest brother committed suicide and my whole family imploded after that. People would try to tell us things like “it must have been God’s will” or “you just need to get over it” or all sorts of horrible things. The fact is, I don’t think there are any words that can help when you’re in the midst of an agony like that. All that helped me was music. I found myself powerfully attracted to the music of composers who had gone through their own agony—Beethoven is a good example, especially the music he wrote after he went deaf—and their music was able to reach out across the centuries and say something to me like: “I really know what you’re feeling, but you’ll get through this.” Not that they consciously thought that when they wrote their music. But that was the end result.

Jack: And now you want to do the same?

William: Yes, I suppose so. One of the results of trips to “the dark side of Life” is that you become sensitized to it, and all of a sudden you can see that the world is full of “walking wounded”. I don’t know or care if my story is “harder” or “easier” than someone else’s–it’s certainly not a contest! But music helped me feel better, it helped me survive, and to remember the feeling of Hope. When you’re in the middle of hell, it can be hard to even remember what Hope feels like. Telling someone who’s there that they’ll be OK is pretty useless—a hug communicates so much more, and a “musical hug” communicates more still.

Jack: Looks like you brought some music…

William: I just finished a new piano piece: “A Leaf in the Wind”. Just a “meditation” on how I’m probably more like a leaf in the wind than I really care to admit to myself–carried along by forces much greater than I. Thought you might like to hear it!

Jack: Bring it on!!

• Here's the the whole piece (5:09)
• Here's the the first 30 seconds
• Here's the the score

New Music: “A Prayer in the Still of the Night”

For the last week or so I’ve been waking up at 2:30 am. Wide awake. Which has been driving me (and my wife) crazy.

My diet/routine/etc. hasn’t changed lately, but I’ve tried varying them anyway to see if I could figure out what’s going on. No difference–still wide awake at 2:30 am.

Then, day before yesterday, my wife suggested: “You know, maybe something inside needs to talk to you and is trying to get your attention. Instead of getting up and trying to do something ‘productive’, why not just stop and listen.”

Which, of course, was a stunningly marvelous idea. And it reminded me of the story of Samuel in the Old Testament / Hebrew Bible (I Samuel 3). Samuel ultimately becomes a great spiritual leader of Israel, but at this point in his story he’s a boy in the care of Eli the temple priest (King James version):

(1) And the child Samuel ministered unto the LORD before Eli. And the word of the LORD was precious in those days; there was no vision. (2) And it came to pass at that time, when Eli was laid down in his place, and his eyes began to wax dim, that he could not see; (3) and ere the lamp of God went out in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was, and Samuel was laid down to sleep; (4) that the LORD called Samuel: and he answered, Here am I. (5) And he ran unto Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou calledst me. And he said, I called not; lie down again. And he went and lay down. (6) And the LORD called yet again, Samuel. And Samuel arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou didst call me. And he answered, I called not, my son; lie down again. (7) Now Samuel did not yet know the LORD, neither was the word of the LORD yet revealed unto him. (8) And the LORD called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli, and said, Here am I; for thou didst call me. And Eli perceived that the LORD had called the child. (9) Therefore Eli said unto Samuel, Go, lie down: and it shall be, if he call thee, that thou shalt say, Speak, LORD; for thy servant heareth. So Samuel went and lay down in his place. (10) And the LORD came, and stood, and called as at other times, Samuel, Samuel. Then Samuel answered, Speak; for thy servant heareth.

So, yesterday morning, like clockwork I was wide awake at 2:30 again, but this time I got up and sat quietly with my journal. The results were pretty darn interesting…

One of the things I’ve been thinking about, and became clear to me In The Still Of The Night at 2:30 am, is that I need to expand the scope of my blog: I’d like to explore the Creative Life. And that’s not just for artists/musicians–we ALL need creative solutions to the challenges of Life, and to keep growing personally. And this poor planet could sure use some new creative solutions to a long list of problems. So, with your indulgence, I’d like to start sharing my own little victories and insights, and perhaps you might be moved to share some of yours, and we can all become just a little more creative and whole together!

sincerely,

william zeitler

• Here's the the whole piece (5:38)
• Here's the the first 30 seconds
• Here's the the score