Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Creative license…

2008 was a banner year for me in one particular way. I’ve loved music all my life and I’ve devoted considerable time, money and space to acquiring music that was meaningful to me. But something happens when you reach middle age. You stop seeing people your age at the record store. You start complaining about what passes for popular music these days. And the artists you loved in your younger years get dropped by their record labels.
But there have been some changes in recent years. It’s now possible for an artist to record a quality-sounding record in his spare bedroom. It’s possible for him to distribute it through his website, without some record label telling him it’s not commercial enough. And it’s possible for me to buy that record without leaving home, downloading it directly to my computer or iPod.
In 2008, more than half a dozen of my favorite artists recorded new albums, only one of which was on a major label. And these records were not just retreads of their old hits; they were solid, challenging works which required great singing and talented playing. Even my old favorite, Brian Wilson, put out an ambitious new album...when he’s old enough to start collecting Social Security.
There’s enormous truth in a motto I saw on a sign not long ago: “We don’t stop laughing because we get old; we get old because we stop laughing.” Substitute “creating” for “laughing” and the message is even stronger. Nobody can put you out to pasture if you can still remember how to open the gate…or jump the fence.
I’m pretty sure at this point that I’ve missed my chance to join the Beach Boys. But in the past couple of years, I’ve written some good songs, filled a weekly column, produced some visual art on the computer or with a paintbrush. I’m not gonna go gently into retirement...unless it gives me more time to do creative stuff.
Wanna stay young? Create. Wanna enjoy your life more? Create. Wanna be more like God? Create.
Consider this to be your creative license; use it or lose it.

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