Landing
When Brent and I lived in Goshen we would listen to a small band called Lotus. They are not small by any means now, but back then it was just them and a small audience of about 30 people in the beginning. But we kept coming back for their magic and every time we did the audience got bigger and bigger until you knew you better get there early or you'd miss a spot to dance or sit. Now, you might not be able to get a ticket as they are touring everywhere becoming something that we all knew they would someday-nationally loved and known.
Last night we watched three bands perform for virtually no audience. And while we felt bad for them, the reality is that this is the life of an artist. Sometimes there are no fans. At all. And the true test to your passion and love for your art is whether you will sustain those times when hardly anyone is listening, except for you. The first band maintained a good sound and didn't mind small crowd. She was just one person and the lack of audience seemed somewhat fitting for such an intimate sound. The second band had no qualms about going on with their business, so much so I might go as far to say they were overconfident in themselves. They didn't quite give the other artists the same attention they received for their peformance, but nevertheless they played with vigor and vitality as if they were at Lollapalooza. The last band was my favorite. They had such lovely harmony and were quite humble for such grounded and well put together sound. They seemed over appreciative of the small crowd before them, never once rolling their eyes or seeming thrown.
Playing, writing, singing, doing anything creative should be what you do when no one is looking. Doing it for yourself because it's what you love. And then someday, before you knew it was really coming, you'll have fans that follow you everywhere you go because you've inspired them with your tenacity. It's not the destination, it's the journey.
Last night we watched three bands perform for virtually no audience. And while we felt bad for them, the reality is that this is the life of an artist. Sometimes there are no fans. At all. And the true test to your passion and love for your art is whether you will sustain those times when hardly anyone is listening, except for you. The first band maintained a good sound and didn't mind small crowd. She was just one person and the lack of audience seemed somewhat fitting for such an intimate sound. The second band had no qualms about going on with their business, so much so I might go as far to say they were overconfident in themselves. They didn't quite give the other artists the same attention they received for their peformance, but nevertheless they played with vigor and vitality as if they were at Lollapalooza. The last band was my favorite. They had such lovely harmony and were quite humble for such grounded and well put together sound. They seemed over appreciative of the small crowd before them, never once rolling their eyes or seeming thrown.
Playing, writing, singing, doing anything creative should be what you do when no one is looking. Doing it for yourself because it's what you love. And then someday, before you knew it was really coming, you'll have fans that follow you everywhere you go because you've inspired them with your tenacity. It's not the destination, it's the journey.
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