Let Your Work Cook

During a recent Instagram Stories doom-swipe session, I noticed Kendriana post about one of her posts being removed because IG thought it broke some rule. A physical trainer I follow had their entire account wiped out because of some unknown one-and-done rule breaking (thankfully they got their account back).

With each day that passes, it’s never been more important to move your followers to your website. To your email list. Get your biggest fans to follow you to a platform you own.

Social media is so enticing for artists, photographers, musicians, etc because of the instant feedback. The interaction. The release of endorphins that come from instant validation.

The entire system is built on that, but it’s a system to benefit them, not you.

You feed their system day and night with content, with engagement, with interaction. In turn, they harvest your user data, habits, track what you look at and like, and sell it to advertisers.

So long as you keep feeding social media your time and effort, they will make lots of money.

The alternative is update your own website. Send an email to your newsletter subscribers.

Neither give you the instant feedback, but stop and consider that instant isn’t alway better.

Sometimes you need to let your work cook.

Make your site something that’s so rad that people would miss it if it were gone (via Seth Godin). Make it something that is a part of people’s lives. Something worth typing into an address bar (or even bookmarking).

Make your thing so great that people will trade you their email address and the sacred access to their inbox just to keep up with you.

When you spend four hours a day on social media, you helped sell a lot of ads.

When you fill your site with two years worth of content, you had a body of work. Anyone with a web-browser can see your talent.

Your magic.

Get Living

“It totally confounds me how some writers, artists, even speakers, like stick to one thing and keep doing that one thing/preaching that one message. I get that it’s bad for branding, but I always want to be changing, growing, evolving. That’s art to me. That’s living.” Jocelyn Aucoin

I know I want to make music. I sit down, open up Abelton, and eh, we’ll see what happens. Sometimes I’m not in the mood for making music, so those nights I’ll work on my Goodnight, Metal Friend mixes.

Neither is “the thing,” I don’t think. Though I won’t know if I don’t keep at it. It helps that I enjoy the process.

Running became a thing. Been doing that since 2016, and more often than not I’m wearing a running shirt instead of a band shirt. How’d that happen?

Sitting in front of me is a fancy pants MIDI-controller, which makes working in Abelton even more fun. I’ve looked, and I’ve been toying with Abelton for since December 2017, so I guess that’s one of my things now, too.

The thing is, none of these “things” needs to be a thing. I’m probably not going to be an iconic producer or marathon legend, but that’s okay. That’s still living.

Your Website is Your Truth

A friend looking to possibly maybe starting down the path of a new gig. They’ve got this experience, but how do they really show it off?

“A website,” I exclaim!

“But how will people know it’s stuff I really did?

“Because your reputation precedes you. You’re a good person, you’re not a crook. If it’s on your website, it happened.”

Of course, that takes a few decades of building trust, establishing character. Day after day of trying to do the right thing, with the right people. But that’s the work.

Photo by Christina Morillo from Pexels

Put Your Health On Your Calendar

Would you work for someone who was constantly demanding email replies while you’re at the dentist? The doctors? In a meeting with another client?

No?

Then don’t work for someone who doesn’t extend the same grace to your lunch hour (or two). Or your afternoon run. Or your three-times a week personal trainer session.

Don’t want your workers sick? Rather they don’t use sick days? Then let them do the things they need to ensure their own health and wellness.

Sure, I speak of this from the self-employed, no-on-pays-me-a-full-time-salary rate anyways, but still, set up boundaries.

Work outs can be meetings. Self-care can be therapy. Block that time out for yourself, because without your best self nobody wins.

Photo by ready made from Pexels

Work Together on Cool Stuff When You Can

If you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room.

The behind the scenes episodes for The Mandalorian just blew me away. The level of “I didn’t know if I could do this” energy was astounding, but it goes to show that people are capable of amazing things when you trust them, support them, and give them space to fly.

Remember, if you’re not “thriving” with all your work calls and video chats it’s not because those things are bad, it’s also because we’re operating during a once-in-a-lifetime event. People will be talking about this moment in time 100 years from now.

Go easy on yourself.

Put On Your Shows

Been feeling the feels a lot lately about the whole “working with people” thing. I blame the making-of videos on Disney+ about The Mandalorian. I’m talking the energy that comes from being in the same room, or on a call with someone you’ve worked with for years and you’re just plotting big stuff.

“I didn’t really know what I was doing in college, but I got so wrapped up in the comedy scene, because it looked so fun, and it was. I had that dream for myself. Perform with my friends, put on our shows. But we had to also feed ourselves, and pay rent, and have jobs, so we grew up.”

Sunita Mani

I love that line, “perform with my friends, put on our shows.”

Our shows.

I love the sort of child-like vibe of that, “our shows.” I mean, Sunita Mani makes it sound like they really did those shows, it wasn’t just some two-bit affair, but for people who don’t put on their own shows, or book their own tours, or start their own sites, well, I guess it’s on the other side of the spectrum. You’re either doing your shows or “growing up.”

Put on your shows.

Make Without a Map

Photo by Kerimli Temkin from Pexels

Saw this today from ‘That which is unique, breaks,’ via @hundredrabbits.

If you commoditize toys, you remove the toymaker. If you remove the toymaker, the toy is only an object of consumption. It ceases to be an object of wonder.

When tasked in 2009 to “fill up the search engines,” during my time at AOL Music, we published 20+ posts a day. Anything that people might search for, let’s have something written and published.

Here we had a stable of competent, knowledgeable writers – all uniquely qualified individuals – cranking out SEO-friendly “content” to be read and indexed by machines.

As an editor this pained me.

Throw away posts about band members getting arrested got more traffic than finely written interviews with notable artists.

Therefore, feed the machine. Find the drama. Find the bleeding story in the ocean of content, attract the swarm of sharks.

At this point, the inmates run the asylum. The child screams for a cookie, so feed them cookies.

“That which is unique, breaks.”

A unique offering, built with editorial discernment, breaks.

I do not need to spoil your view with visions of this architecture, I only wonder, what have their creators ever repaired?

Who has turned the ship around? Rebuilt the damaged hull? Fixed a site? Started from scratch?

As Seth Godin says, “If there were a map, there’d be no art, because art is the act of navigating without a map.”

Showing Up is the Secret

From one of my recent emails from The Soft Run:

As I approached this house a kid (maybe 10 or 11) came running around a corner today, and yelled, asking to use my phone.

Then as I got closer, I realized he wasn’t wearing socks or shoes!

Just another day, just another run, right? Nope. One run out of almost 300 this year, and never once did I see a jeep set-up like the one above, nor did I help a kid get back into his house after being locked out in the middle of winter with no shoes or socks. BRRR.

I keep getting lost in the binary thinking of success, of making it. Either you’re a popular YouTube star with a million subscribers, or you’ve only got 13 and it feels like a waste of time.

You want to be this “thing,” but you don’t have the “social evidence” that you are the thing.

Are you a musician if no one buys your music? Are you a writer if no one replies to your pitches? Are you a photographer if you’re images aren’t on magazine covers?

Again, permission. Waiting for permission is the killer.

I am 44 years old – what right do I have to wear gaudy purple sneakers and tights and a cool jacket and run around the backroads here?

I work in music – what right do I have to make “dark ambient” mixes? What, do I think I’m going to MAKE IT?!?!

Wait, I thought I made dark ambient mixes – why am I making smooth chill jams with funky stock video footage?

Because I choose to.

Am I now locked into that identity? Must I now maintain a weekly music mix? Set up a live stream? Do a daily tune and post on every social network?

Well, if I choose to, sure.

Just go be everything you want to be. Doesn’t matter if it looks right, sounds right, has the right presentation – just make a little bit of magic each day.

This post partially inspired by Seth Godin’s ‘The Practice: Ship creative work‘ book.

Things and Apps Change

In this post from 2019, I list a few things I use like Spark for email, Todoist, and Bear.

Now, in late 2020, there’s been some changes.

I ditched Spark and just use the web-interface for personal email in Fastmail. My Close Mondays work email is all handled via Front, which handles the group inbox thing really well.

I use Todoist mostly for reminders to post Instagram stories for clients, since it let’s me upload the image and URL really well, and that’s about it. All my work related stuff is now sitting in Basecamp and I love it so much.

And Bear? Eh, I do some journal stuff in there, but mostly whenever I open it back up I find something that I end up throwing in Basecamp.

Slow Down and Smell the Roses

Just like soft running, sometimes you need a soft ride. I’ve been going hard these last few months, trying to lose weight, get faster, and all that other pretty fucking typical stuff. Then came a 10 mile trail race and I realized I didn’t have that much fun. It’s time to recalibrate.

Left the house and it was around 70 degrees, but sort of cool on the bike. I actually rode slow enough to be chilly; like, just riding so easy that I wasn’t really warming myself. It was a nice feeling. I slowed, looked deep into the woods, scanned the creeks, stopped to smell some pine trees.

Just like we can’t focus on work for 8+ hours, at least not in a healthy way, we can’t always workout hardcore either. I mean, if you’re young, cool! Do you! But it’s also nice to just switch it up.

Stop and smell the roses is cliche for a reason.

And I’ve discovered in my journey with outsourcing, there’s been some quiet time. There’s been moments in the day where shit is actually done, caught up. Nothing to do. It’s glorious, but also terrifying. It’s just not something I’m familiar with, having gone pretty much full tilt since 2018 when my Close Mondays operation really took off.

Tonight it felt unsettling to just get away on the bike, but it was absolutely everything I needed. The best ideas come in the shower, or those quiet moments just staring at the mountains.

Avoiding those moments isn’t advisable for me. I need to keep searching them out.