Creativity Overdose: What It Is and How to Fight It

So my wife and a good mutual friend of ours recently staged an intervention in my living room over a glaring problem that’s been worrying them for a while.

(Okay, it wasn’t an intervention, but it sure felt like it, dammit.)

You see, I suffer from something I’ve dubbed Creativity Overdose.

It’s an insidious beast that comes at the intersection of bipolar and ADHD. Creativity Overdose is when your ideas start to come at the expense of people around you. Another good name would be “Eddy from Ed, Edd, & Eddy syndrome,” since it’s basically what he has. Every three seconds, you come up with some hairbrained get-rich-quick scheme or the newest version of The Best Idea Ever™ that consumes your entire being. And that would be fine if you a. followed through on these ideas and b. they weren’t coming at the detriment of your loved ones.

My poor wife has had to deal with approximately 6,348 new ideas since January, and getting back into academia and becoming a specialist on the way AI affects the brain on a psychological level was the straw that broke the camel’s back (I’m shocked it wasn’t my short-lived oil painting business). I don’t envy her for having to deal with my manic ass on a daily basis, and I want to be a better, more reliable partner for her. She deserves that much from me. So here are four ideas I’m putting into practice to negate my struggles with Creativity Overdose and keep the mental and interpersonal peace:

1. Write down your ideas (instead of burdening people with them)

This is hard if you’re an autistic extrovert like me. Sometimes, the neurospiciness kisses the extroversion just right and you feel the need to infodump about every grandiose idea you’ve ever had to your loved ones. I can assure you, they don’t want to hear about it. I know it hurts, but for the most part, it’s true. This is tough love. Nobody wants to hear about your Parakeet Circus idea, especially when the last time you tried to start a Cirque du Soleil featuring parakeets, you blew up three parakeets. Unless the project is cued to be finished or released, absolutely shut up about it. Not everything is about you. (I’m talking especially to myself here.)

2. Write down all of your current projects

Okay, now that we’re not telling everyone all the shit we’re up to, let’s figure out what we’re actually up to anyways. Write down every single thing you’re currently working on, no matter how small or insignificant. My current list has all the musical projects I’m working on, my two jobs, school stuff, my podcast, and even getting my passport. Write down some steps you’ll have to take for each one, too. Putting it all down on paper will help you see how busy you really are and maybe give you a little more perspective on how much you actually need to fill your plate. When you’re excited about stuff, it’s easy to underestimate how much it really takes to get things done.

3. Pick one thing to hyperfocus on for a month

Here is the tricky part. You’ve gotta prioritize. Label the projects on your list from most to least important. Like, “you’ll die if you don’t do this” to “this can wait a few months or even years.” Shelf the stuff that can wait. If writing the book that’s been on your heart for years can wait a few more years, that’s perfectly fine. Like, I’m probably gonna end up releasing Venona at an absolute snail’s pace, but I’m not worried about getting the story out there at this point. Unless something goes terribly wrong, we’ve still got a lot of time on this planet. Don’t worry if you can’t get to everything in the next year or so. Pick one thing (maybe two, since you’ll probably need to pick whatever your main job is for survival reasons) and really buckle down and get it done before moving on. It feels good to get something done for once, trust me.

4. Help someone else create something instead

Here’s something I’m really learning — it’s better to collaborate than work alone, and sometimes it can be just as rewarding helping your loved ones meet their goals as it is meeting your own. My wife wants to be a professional artist and merchandiser, so I’m going to step aside a while and let her work on that. I’m going to take a year off school so she can save for the equipment she needs, and I’m going to support her any way I can. See what your friends need for their endeavors and ask how you can help them. Assisting someone else in reaching their dreams can be a good feeling in and of itself, and it can further inspire you in your own dreams as well. The best part of having creative, ambitious people in your circle is that you can all help each other up.

So what do you think of Creativity Overdose? Have you experienced this in your life? Let me know your thoughts in the comments.

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More Than Words: Five Quotes I Live By

Do you have a quote you live your life by or think of often?

If there’s one thing I can take away from being a writer my whole life, it’s the fact that words are powerful tools. We can use them to build people up, tear each other down, spread information, spread misinformation, and evoke strong emotions. Something I’ve always been fascinated by is the use of mantras or affirmations for self-improvement. Just repeating a certain phrase to yourself can make an impact on your mental health. And here’s the thing — your affirmations don’t have to be anything in particular, so long as they resonate with you.

Like a favorite quote!

As I began writing this post, I realized I have a handful of quotes I constantly repeat in my head like mantras. They’re the words that shape my personal philosophy and the way I approach life. I never really stopped to actively consider and appreciate how these words have shaped my experience as a human being. But I wanted to share a few of these quotes I carry with me.

She refused to be bored chiefly because she wasn’t boring.

–Zelda Fitzgerald

This first quote comes from the iconic flapper wife of F. Scott Fitzgerald, who absolutely should have been absolutely as famous as him in her own right. She was a Renaissance woman — a writer, painter, and dancer, who went on to die tragically in a mental hospital fire. I see a lot of myself in her story. She was diagnosed with schizophrenia, but had she lived today, she would have received a bipolar diagnosis like me.

Zelda was a wild child with many diverse interests, so I can’t imagine a woman like her would ever be bored. That’s kind of how I want to be. I don’t enjoy being idle, and I don’t ever want to be boring. I always want to be involved in exciting new projects and opportunities. Life’s too short to sit around and be bored. You gotta actively make a life worth living. That’s kind of what the quote means to me.

Show love with no remorse.

-Red Hot Chili Peppers (“Dosed”)

I remember the first time I heard this song and being entirely floored by how beautiful it was. It was in the car with my former drummer Jerry and another short-lived bandmate on the way to our bandiversary date. I’d heard plenty of Red Hot Chili Peppers before that day, but this was the song that really made me appreciate them on a deeper level. I loved the guitar work, the harmonies, and perhaps most importantly, the words.

I’ve always said I wanted this exact lyric tattooed on me someday. I just think it’s a simple concept. You’ve got nothing to lose by giving love freely and joyfully. We need much more love in this world, and now is not the time to be stingy with it. You’ll never regret treating people with kindness.

Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

-Robert J. Hanlon

I hesitate to call this a quote. It’s technically a philosophical razor, which eliminates — or rather, shaves off — weak explanations for a particular phenomenon. The phenomenon at hand when it comes to Hanlon’s razor is “Why are people awful to each other?” And the explanation it offers is simple: people just don’t know any better.

Hanlon’s razor is why I still have faith in humanity, even after I’ve witnessed some of the worst of it. People very seldom intend to hurt each other. We’re all just big dum-dums that say and do the wrong things sometimes, and we really need to treat each other with more grace. That’s why I don’t believe in cancel culture — we need a grace culture. If you make an honest mistake and own up to it, that shouldn’t be held against you. No one is perfect, and we can’t hold people to impossible standards.

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

-Romans 12:21

I struggled to think of just one Bible verse to include, since so many have been influential to me growing up in the church. But this one felt really relevant with some of my recent posts about loving your enemy and fighting the rampant dehumanization of marginalized folks in our society. It’s easy to lash out against the people who are hurting me and my loved ones. But you have to remember that they’re human and they’re hurting too. Hurt people hurt people. It’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation. And it’s why I choose love — because you don’t know what someone else is going through.

The verse immediately before this one talks about how offering your enemy water when they’re thirsty is akin to heaping hot coals on their head. The Good Book is telling us to kill them with kindness. I saw a post recently that said the true test of a Christian is not whether they love Jesus, it’s whether they love Judas. I’ll admit it’s hard for me to show love to the people who hurt me. The human part of me wants revenge. But the divine answer remains to be love.

Where words fail, music speaks.

-Hans Christian Andersen

I’ll admit I never knew the person behind this quote was none other than the Danish purveyor of fairytales such as The Little Mermaid, The Emperor’s New Clothes, and Thumbelina. But I’ve always related to this quote. As a child, the signs of my autism were very apparent. I would often stim by pacing or making bird sounds, and I had sensory issues surrounding things such as loud noises and upsetting smells (looking at you, ranch dressing). And like many autistic kids, I struggled to communicate with my peers. My classmates thought I was from France for the longest time because I never spoke in elementary or middle school, so they assumed I had an accent or didn’t know English or something.

But then I picked up a guitar, and everything changed. When I learned to play music and started performing, that was when I truly found my voice. Music was my way of reaching out into the world. I call music my first language for good reason. It was the bridge that connected me to other people for the first time in my life, and for that, I’m forever grateful.

What quotes do you live by? Leave your favorites in the comments!

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The Entertainer: How I Found My Life’s Calling

I write this from the fancy-schmancy professional studio I’ve been holed up in for the entirety of spring break. It’s almost 2 in the morning, and going by track records here, my bandmate and I won’t be leaving until 6, if not even later. The only thing I have to eat is a jar of cashew butter I shoved into my guitar case. I’m running on Adderall, enough caffeine to kill a horse, and a brief power nap I took hours ago. But as much as I want to complain, I can’t.

This is the life I chose, you know?

When I was a kid, this is the kind of stuff I’d dream about doing someday. I don’t think I can overstate how influential music was to me growing up. I’d watch Behind the Music religiously and dream about the day I’d be in my heroes’ shoes. I’d even imagine my own episode someday, all of my wild ups and downs throughout my career. Music was a mystical thing and I had my own pantheon — Bon Jovi were gods and Ann and Nancy Wilson were my goddesses.

I’m not actually goth, I was just really influenced by the music video for Heart’s “Alone.”

This past week, I’ve spent five nights and one long day doing what I’ve been wanting to do for years — work as a professional musician. I feel like I’m so close to phasing out any form of “real work” and just doing what I love, and it feels great to be honest. I’m sick of menial unimportant work. I want to do something with meaning.

For a long time, I assumed my role on this planet was to help people in a really real and tangible way. In high school, I was insistent on becoming a doctor so I could do just that (and for the clout of being able to call myself a doctor, obvs). Of course my parents talked me out of that career path, and probably for the best, because knowing how flaky I can be, I’d probably be the person who leaves a scalpel in a patient or something.

But even after I left my shallow dreams of doctorness behind, I was convinced I’d someday be a music therapist, and that was going to be my method of helping people. My first love has always been music, so I knew that had to be involved somehow. It was the perfect arrangement — I’d get to do what I love and also help people. Alas, those dreams didn’t pan out either, no thanks to my nightmarish internship that soured me to the entire profession I’d been pursuing for a decade.

Which leads me to where I am now. I host music bingo for a living. I put on trivia shows for local bars. I’m studying audio engineering and on special occasions, I get to be a studio musician and help out with recording guitar or bass. Nothing I’m doing is groundbreaking or livesaving. No one needs a game of music bingo. But I’m content, because the things I am doing are still important in their own way. I talked a little about serving glimmers as an entertainer on here, but it stands repeating. Entertainment and the arts are crucial to every day life because they’re an intrinsic part of being human. It’s why I’ve got mixed thoughts on AI. Art and humanity have been linked since the dawn of civilization. It’s what makes us different from other creatures, even relatively intelligent ones like dolphins.

Try making art with flippers, you untalented swine.

We need arts and entertainment. It’s the thing that keeps us sane in this hectic society. And honestly, it’s a huge honor work as an entertainer. I love what I do. I love putting smiles on people’s faces. I used to think working in entertainment was selfish. After all, I only want to do it because I love attention, right? And I mean, I do enjoy being the center of attention, but there’s an altruistic element to it as well. Making people happy — just giving people something to look forward to in this dark world — is what keeps me going.

I’ll end this sort of rambly blog post with an anecdote from my freshman year of college. I was very casually dating the sweetest, gentlest guy. He was smallish in stature and cute in a nice Jewish boy way and really, really loved sloths. My point is you’d never expect this young man to play guitar like a fucking rock god, but he did. He could shred. And he had such a way with crafting beautiful songs. We didn’t work out for reasons I’ll never know, but I was madly in love with him. That’s not why he holds a place in my heart to this day, though.

One night, we were sitting in the car. He was showing me Buckethead, one of his biggest influences, alongside John Frusciante, whom I also came to love. And my sweet kinda-boyfriend revealed to me the meaning behind his band’s name, Smiles and Anchors. He wanted to honor his passion for making people happy through music. That’s all he wanted to do. It wasn’t about becoming famous or rich. He just wanted to bring a little light to people in his little world.

And that shook me.

Music has always been my way of connecting with others, but I’d never heard anyone put it that way before. Until then, music was more about what it did for me. It made me happy. It made me connections with others. But what about the folks listening? To them, we’re the ones making life a little more bearable. We’re the ones providing the soundtracks to memories. And it’s kind of humbling in a weird way, and I like that. I never want to lose sight of why I play music. I never want to let my ego soil the joy I get from making my listeners happy with my songs, because it’s not about me. It’s about them. That conversation was part of the reason I ended up getting an anchor on my foot for my first tattoo. I wanted a physical reminder to stay humble, no matter where music takes me.

I intentionally censored my horrendously long and upsetting toes. You’re welcome.

And that’s what being an entertainer is all about to me. It’s hard work. It’s scary. You have to put yourself out there. You have to practice a lot. Sometimes you’re in the studio for so long your contacts practically melt into your eyes and you get a gnarly case of conjunctivitis (true story). But for all the sacrifices this lifestyle takes, it’s worth it. Being a performer has been some of the most rewarding work I’ve ever done, and I’m happy I get to share it all with you.

AuDHD Dreams and Impulsive Schemes

When I opened my app to check my site’s stats for the day, this little prompt popped up:

Describe the most ambitious DIY project you’ve ever taken on.

I’ll be honest, this is a hard question for me, and not because I’m like, the queen of all things DIY. I’m not even a baroness of all things DIY. The world of DIY is a mystical land with which I am simultaneously very familiar and also very much a stranger.

The truth is, I often cycle through creative interests, sometimes very rapidly! I can recall flipping through like, five different artistic outlets in one summer before finally realizing I sucked at all of them. I have music and writing already — maybe it’s what I get for being greedy with the fine arts. But one of my best friends is also a musician and writer, and they also have time to make bead art, crochet, sew shit, put together enormous puzzles, and 3D print whatever the hell they can’t make doing everything else.

My problem, as always, is my brain wiring. I’ve got the fun combination of ADHD and autism, and they love to fight sometimes.

One of autism’s defining traits is the presence of “special interests,” or things were just really fascinated by and want to learn everything about. As a child, it was 8-track tapes and parakeets. In adulthood, it’s been lost architecture and cults (I dare you to let me tell you about multilevel marketing cults for hour). Not every autistic person gets special interests like this, but it’s incredibly common and definitely marked my experience growing up autistic.

That’s just one of the ingredients in my particular brand of brain soup.

It’s actually alphabet soup but all of the letters are “ADHD.”

ADHD comes with impulsivity. It’s one of the main symptoms, in fact. I technically have inattentive type ADHD according to my psychiatrist, but I’m shocked I didn’t qualify for the hyperactive-impulsive type instead. The hallmarks of my ADHD have always been the impulsive and hyperactive behaviors. And when I get an impulse to try out a new hobby, I gotta dive right in, headfirst, without checking the depth of the water beforehand.

It was pretty detrimental for a while because I was blowing all my money on these hobbies I’d be into for only a week or so before giving up. There’s the thing — if I wasn’t immediately good at the hobby, I quit. I also didn’t have the patience to get good at anything.

I realize I haven’t actually answered the prompt at hand yet (which is another very ADHD thing of me to do), so allow me to list the top five lofty DIY projects my neurodivergent ass stupidly took on:

5. Boating

I’m not quite sure this counts as a DIY project because I didn’t really make anything, but it was lofty nonetheless. Do you know what all you need to safely operate a boat? A lot of shit, that’s what. Yet I ordered a whistle and high-powered flashlight and lifejackets, all for the little inflatable boat I bought while we were living on the lake. How many times did I actually use the boat? Exactly once. It was a magical time, don’t get me wrong, and I wrote a song about the experience, but that song basically costed me $600. (And this is why I have credit card debt.)

4. Perfumery

I don’t know how many of you remember my witchy phase, but I definitely dabbled in the mystical realm for a while. Still do, to a lesser extent, but at the height, I was really into making my own “potions” out of herbs and essential oils. This inevitably led to me making potions not for magical properties, but because they smelled really nice, and giving them to my friends and family. I also made a lot of spell jars around this time, containing stuff that reminded me of the folks I made them for. It was kind of a cool hobby actually. I still have a lot of spell jars from that era.

3. Sewing

This was the shortest-lived of all the hobbies listed here. I went to JoAnn’s (RIP) for a small sewing kit because I wanted to alter my Chappell Roan costume to make it a little sluttier. Like, I wanted to show kneecaps. And the nice very gay man helping me suggested I also try a pillowcase. Not wanting to disappoint a fellow gay, I happily bought material to sew my own pillowcase as well. When I got home, I immediately got too overwhelmed and threw the sewing stuff behind the TV to hide my shame. It remains there to this day, and the Chappell costume remains unslutty.

2. Painting

Of all these hobbies, this one has been the most successful, if only because I’m not a stranger to visual art. I do digital art and coloring pretty regularly with my iPad, but traditional painting is a whole different beast. My college guitar professor was an incredibly skilled oil painter and I always really admired him, so I figured I’d try my hand at it as well. And I got some pretty okay results!

This painting of my girlfriend’s girlfriend turned out better than I anticipated, although she didn’t want to keep it (to be fair, what would you do with a painting of yourself??). I think I’d feel better about this hobby if I had some success selling my art, because for now it’s just kind of languishing in my apartment. I still have the equipment for oil painting, so I could easily revisit this one if I wanted.

1. Crocheting

Ah yes, the most tragic one. The one I had such high hopes for. I always imagined myself knowing how to crochet someday, probably as a little old lady sitting on a porch swing with a glass of sun tea. It was just part of how I envisioned being a grandma, and now that I’m officially an age where I can be a grandma (like, I just saw a report about a 32-year-old grandmother), learning to crochet seemed like the next logical step. So I ordered a beginner’s kit from the Woobles and well, here is the expectation:

…and result:

You can almost hear it crying to be put out of its misery. This ~~cat~~ potato was eventually given to my girlfriend as a Valentine’s Day gift, and I think her car ate it. My one and only crochet attempt, lost forever.

Although maybe that’s for the best.

Almost Icarus: What I learned “Writing” an Album With AI Software

This might be my most controversial blog post yet, moreso than any of my posts on religion or politics. Like, I could lose my Artist™ card over this transgression.

You see, I have sinned. I wrote an album using AI software.

Not a song.

Not even an EP.

A whole ass album.

I realize that sounds bad, and it kind of is. Bear with me.

“First you use AI, now you’re saying you have a bear with you. Can we even believe you Jessa??”

I’ve discussed AI in depth on here before, and to be honest I was a skeptic before I met a good friend who introduced me to the software. It was simple enough — you input a prompt (or a full set of lyrics if you’re really fancy), and out pops a song. And the songs it spat out were not robotic or mechanical at all. They sounded extremely realistic, all with breath sounds and guitar string scrapes and lifelike vocals. There was no uncanny valley — that valley had been crossed.

The friend was using the software because they don’t play an instrument, but wanted to write songs, which I mean, I definitely get that. I can’t shame someone for wanting to bring the music in their head to life. That’s what I’ve spent my entire life trying to do myself through songwriting.

But one night, I was bored at work. They say that idle hands are the devil’s playthings, and the little red man was feeling especially feisty I guess. So I downloaded the software myself and plugged in some of my unused lyrics along with prompts that reflected the kind of music I wanted to make. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to generate some ideas to glean. And holy shit was my mind blown. Suddenly I had one, two, five songs that were literally already complete, and according to the licensing policy of the particular software I was using, I could do whatever the hell I wanted with these songs. I could post them, remix them…

Pull it to the side and get all up in them.

I could re-record all of the songs I’d beep-booped and release them myself. It was genius! This was going to streamline songwriting in ways I’d never imagined. Suddenly, I was writing lyrics to see what the software would spit out. It was almost addictive.

But it didn’t come without a cost. I felt a twinge of guilt whenever my girlfriend would mention an anti-AI post. I knew what I was doing was technically cheating, but the dopamine hit from hitting “create” was too strong. My imposter syndrome was getting worse because of it. I’ve been writing music since I was 14 — how the fuck was a computer writing better songs than me? It was almost disheartening. Nothing I tried to come up with on my own compared to the full songs this software came up with in ten seconds.

Not to mention the fact that my taste in music was now borked. I now had all these songs I’d created and curated specifically for my own taste in music, and nothing else compared. I wasn’t getting “hyperfixation” songs like I used to because all I wanted to listen to were my creations on repeat. I needed to squeeze all of the joy I possibly could out of them because nothing else was satisfying.

The songs after I sucked the life out of them.

So here we are now, with me stuck with 12 songs I only half wrote and don’t know what to do with. The conundrum I find myself in is that these are not only good songs, but personal songs. I used some deeply personal lyrics I couldn’t find a melody worthy of in order to make some of these songs. There’s a song about recovering from my rape, there’s a song about how I probably won’t ever get to have a kid, there’s even a song about how I’m willing to go to war to defend my girlfriend from Nazis. I tried rewriting them but nothing sticks like the fucking AI songs. At this point they’re more than songs. They’re demons I need to exorcise.

And the only way I can exorcise them is by re-recording them and releasing them into the world.

I wanted to write this blog post before I post anything from this album just because I don’t feel ethically sound releasing something made with AI without disclosing that detail. I came to love these songs and I hope you do too, despite their origin. They’re still very much my work lyrically, and I’ll do my best to make it musically own as well. It’s unsettling how close some them already sound to songs that came directly from my noggin. “Fire” is a sexy rocker to “Sweet Honey,” and “WTF” could be considered the sequel of “Chrysanthemums.” I’ve been trying to think of some way to frame the release of these songs as a social experiment — will the music I created with AI be more successful than music created entirely by humans — but truthfully, I just want to get these songs out there in some fashion.

This blog post comes with a warning — if you’re a creative type at all, use caution when utilizing AI software, because it will erode your actual skills if you’re not careful. That’s not to say it won’t have any legitimate uses. I can see it being used in music therapy settings with a lot of success, and I’ve heard of nerdy types using it to make songs specific to their D&D campaigns. Hell, I can see it being used to get ideas during a bad writer’s block, so long as you don’t lose your own voice. But therein lies the problem. AI is like fire — it is a tool, but you have to remember, it’s still fucking fire. It’s almost eerily fitting that the software I used contains the word “sun” and one of the songs I made with it was one named “Icarus.” At first I wanted to believe I was Bernie Taupin and the AI was my Elton John, but if I’m honest, I was Icarus and the AI was my sun.

It’s not flying, it’s falling with style.

I don’t harbor any ill will toward the friend that showed me the software or even the software itself. I’m glad the songs I beep-booped into existence exist now, even if I wish the circumstances behind their existence were different. I don’t know if I’ll ever write anything with AI again after this project is properly exorcised. My next project is a concept album that’s almost finished lyric-wise, and I’m so tempted at times to pump them into the software and see what it comes up with, but I’m restraining myself as best as I can. I want to see what I can come up with this time.

I kind of miss the process of creating, and im tempted to make my next project entirely analog for this reason. I miss that hands-on feeling. When I was at my girlfriend’s apartment this weekend, I toyed with her synthesizer and recorded a handful of catchy riffs with my phone. They’re not full songs, but they’re starts. And most importantly, they’re mine.

Technology Marches On: A Musician’s Perspective on AI

This is going to be a controversial post. So hold onto your butts, dear readers.

A few nights ago, Reddit’s r/chapppellroan community was abuzz, and not in a good way. The red-haired pop songstress invited controversy when she asked her fans to create unhinged AI images of her and her cousin.

Also embracing the millennial finger mustache, which I thought we collectively decided to forget about.

The overwhelming response from her fandom was, well, scathing. A lot of fans were disappointed, to say the least.

And they have reason to be. Artificial intelligence is an ethical landmine. I’m not even talking the environmental impact — remember, training a single bot can produce as much CO2 as five cars do in their lifetime. It already has the potential to put visual artists out of work, and honestly, music isn’t far behind. There are already fully AI songs charting. Being wife to a visual artist and a musician myself, you’d think I’d be as strongly against AI technology as Chappell’s fans. And for a long time, you would have been right.

But I’m not anymore. In fact, I think it can be useful — used correctly.

A good musician friend of mine introduced me to a certain software that utilizes AI to create full, complex songs out of, well, whatever you give it. I was hesitant at first, but one night, I was sitting at work bored to death. On a whim, I decided to flesh out some long-abandoned lyrics I’d written and toyed with the software a little. And I was shocked at how well the software could bring my visions to life. It hit me that I could use this technology to break through writer’s block. After all, according to the software’s terms of service, everything you beep-boop is yours to do whatever you want with. I could flesh out entire demos using AI!

And I can repeatedly listen to my own music *like never before!*

Let me be clear — I don’t support simply releasing what the software spits out. I think it’s disingenuous to put something out into the world and claim it’s yours when all you did was punch a few buttons. But I don’t see an issue with using it to glean ideas and visualize what you actually want to create. It’s the same concept for visual artists. Use AI to generate some poses or brainstorm ideas, but at the end of the day, your art is what you create yourself with your chosen medium.

I know it’s really easy for bad actors to use AI for insidious purposes, and I can’t argue that. Sure, making cute realistic neon owl families with AI is innocent enough, but what about Joe Biden and Donald Trump swordfighting with their penises? We have the technology to make a very convincing image of that…atrocity, and publishing it to social media has the potential to damage real people. For that reason, I think there needs to be significantly more legislation surrounding AI (or people are going to develop some really wild ideas about American politics).

Like people believing this man can *actually* shred.

Still, I don’t think AI is an entirely bad thing. It’s a tool like anything else, and every time a new creative tool comes out, people will declare it the enemy of true art. Painter J. M. W. Turner once said “This is the end of Art. I am glad I have had my day.” This quote was spoken in 1839 and is referring to the daguerreotype. But we still have painters to this day. And now that the technology exists, you can’t put the genie back in the lamp. Like it or not, AI will be a huge part of our future. As the Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights succinctly put it:

AI has the potential to help our communities, but if [people] aren’t equipped to successfully enter the future of work, they will not reap the benefits.

In other words, now that it exists, it’s a necessary evil, and folks will have to learn how to interact with it one way or another, lest risk being left behind.

I’m not a believer in black and white thinking. I think there are way too many gray areas in our everyday life, and I think the use of AI is one such gray area. There are many ways to use it ethically, and there are just as many ways to misuse it for sinister purposes. At the end of the day, I don’t think Chappell should be cancelled for wanting to experiment with it.

Let’s be real though, is Chappell even *cancelable?*

Use it or don’t, just be excellent to each other. And for the love of God, do not generate that penis-swordfighting image.

(And if you do, please do not show me, thanks.)

Serving Glimmers: How Art and Performance Can Save Lives

I had a realization a while back — one of the reasons I pursued music therapy was because it looked “good.” It seemed like a noble profession, using music to improve people’s lives in a meaningful, measurable way. I’d tell people I was studying music therapy and it was an instant “Ah yes, I can trust her, as she is clearly a good person.” All my boyfriends’ moms loved me for it, and strangers would tell me what I’m doing is so beautiful, so kind. It may just be playing guitar for some kid in a hospital, but to that kid, you’re a hero! And who doesn’t want to be a hero, you know?

I think I have a hero complex, and I think that’s what’s prevented me from jumping headfirst into performance instead. I always wanted to be a hero. I wanted to help people. And if I became a rock star, who would I be helping except my own selfish desires?

The typical perception of pretty much everybody is that performing and the arts are just little “extras.” They’re nothing but fun little distractions, right? No one needs a movie or a comic book or music to live.

QUICK! GET HIM THE LATEST TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUM!

What I’m slowly realizing is that, while we don’t need the arts to live, we absolutely need the arts to really live.

When I moved to Kalamazoo, I searched frantically for work. I would have taken damn near anything, but I wanted to try finding a job involving music. And lo and behold, a trivia company was looking for a music bingo host in my area. And I mean, getting to essentially be part-DJ, part-game show host every night?

I love what I do. It’s a great gig. But for a while, I was feeling like what I did didn’t really matter in the long run. People come into the bar, play music bingo, and leave, going on to live their own lives. I imagine there are probably nurses and firefighters in the audience, and what I do must seem so inconsequential compared to what they deal with every day. And I think those thoughts were starting to wear on me, because I got complaints from one of the bars I work at that I wasn’t “engaging enough.” At first I was angry, because what do you mean I’m not good enough?! But then I realized maybe I’m not giving it my all, and maybe that was because I felt like my job wasn’t important.

So I determined that this show would be my best show yet. I dressed just short of a full drag queen getup, picked some banger categories, and drank enough caffeine to kill a horse. I promised myself I’d socialize the whole time, even if I wanted to sit down. I even moved the chair so I wouldn’t be tempted to just sit down. I was going to give this show my all.

Then, something amazing happened. Sometimes, when you put good vibes out into the universe, the stars align and give you exactly what you need in that moment. What I needed was a glimmer.

Everyone knows what triggers are, but I recently saw that someone coined a term for the opposite phenomenon — glimmers. These are the tiny moments that make life worth living. I experience a glimmer every time I laugh with my wife, or hug my girlfriend, or hear my parents say they’re proud of me. They’re what being alive is all about. They’re little moments of pure joy, which was exactly what I needed.

I walked into the bar to an array of balloons. It was an older couple’s 55th anniversary, and I was going to be hosting music bingo smack dab in the middle of it. Thankfully, the couple was cool about me coming to blast disco at them and even joined in the game, along with many of the other folks in attendance. The older woman who was celebrating her anniversary came up to me and told me that her and her husband’s song was “You’re Still the One” by Shania Twain. And anyone who knows me knows I never miss an opportunity to play Shania Twain.

Tangentially related fact: I was so obsessed with her as a small child, I’d draw pictures of her and not my mom. (Yes, my mom was a little jealous.)

When intermission came, the bar dimmed the lights, leaving only the hanging Christmas lights to illuminate the room. I cued up the song and introduced the couple to the entire bar. Then, everyone gathered around the couple with their phone flashlights. Seeing all of their friends and family surround them in a sea of twinkling lights actually made me tear up a little. The family would remember this moment for the rest of their lives.

A moment I helped make happen.

It’s easy to dismiss entertainment as an opium of the masses, even more so than religion, as Marx famously said. But I’d argue that entertainment is as important as the STEM fields, just in a completely different way. Sure, a particular song may be insignificant to you, but that song could have been the one thing that stopped someone from taking their own life. There’s a reason for this album’s existence. I know people who stay alive because they want to see what happens next in their favorite video game franchise. The arts and media provide those small glimmers that keep people going.

So maybe I will go all-in on being an entertainer and creator. Because someone somewhere needs my music. Someone somewhere needs a fun game night at the local bar. Someone somewhere is reading my writings about mental health and my own personal journey and feels less alone because of it. Artists, writers, musicians, video game developers, game show hosts — they’re all heroes in a unique but important way. Entertainment and art communicate ideas, and more than that, hope.

That’s why I do what I do.

How I Invented Myself (As a Thirteen-Year-Old Girl With a Sketchbook)

First of all, this blog post needs a visual:

This post isn’t just an excuse to share a picture of me looking like an absolute baddie. You see, I made this very weird, very cool realization when I scrolled through recent pics to find this particular one.

That woman in the picture? I invented her.

When I was a kid, I had a lot of original characters. They were kind of my only friends when I didn’t have any to speak of. It’s easy to forget that I was ever uncool, but I very much was for most of my early life. I’ve talked about how I had to eat lunch in the library to avoid being pelted with ranch dressing packets, but that was really the tip of the iceberg. It got a lot worse than that at times. I scarcely remember a day in middle school where I didn’t come home from school crying. So I made up these imaginary people, usually rock stars, who’d be my friends, and on occasion, I’d make one whom I wanted to be.

That was Anne…I can’t remember her last name. It was Greek. She was Greek, as I had a brief Greek mythology phase (every teenage girl has one, I swear) and I’m pretty sure I made her to be the modern incarnation of Aphrodite. But I distinctly remember almost everything else about her. She had long dark hair, wore sort of gothy clothes, including fishnet stockings and gloves, and impossibly high black boots. She was the lead singer and guitarist of a rock band called Valentÿne (the umlaut is v important), and she had a teenaged little sister named Sophie of whom she’d become caregiver. She was an amalgamation of women I looked up to at the time — the Wilson sisters of Heart, other rocker chicks I admired, my own older sister, even. She was very much a wish-fulfillment OC, as I wanted nothing more to be a bad bitch with a soft side who wore cool-ass clothes and had confidence.

And I think I’m finally there. I’m not a rock star by any means, but I have people who follow my music career and love what I do, and that’s enough. I’ve got the looks now — dyeing my hair dark for my 30s was a good move. And in a way, I do feel like I’m the caregiver of a smaller, more innocent me. Sophie was always sort of my “inner child” in a way. I’ve become this character I invented as a little girl, and it’s so cool to see realized.

I keep drawing the Queen of Wands when I ask my tarot decks questions about myself, and I think that’s telling. I’m not superstitious, but I’m a little “-stitious,” so to speak, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence I keep getting this card.

The Queen of Wands represents a fiery, sexy, confident, vivacious woman who knows what she wants and knows how to get it. She is everything I created Anne to be, and I feel like I’m finally seeing those things in myself too.

It took me long enough, but I’m happy with who I am today. In fact, I think that might be a small reason why I’ve had trouble coming up with characters and stories as of late — I’m actually content with who I am and who’s in my life. That’s never happened to me before. It makes me want to hide inside my imagination less. Which is honestly not a good thing for a creative, so I should probably address that sooner rather than later. But in the meantime, I’ll enjoy this contentment.

It’s hard to believe I manifested this version of myself as a lonely 13-year-old girl with a sketchpad and big dreams, but stranger things have happened, ya know? I remember a time when I hated being me, so I feel like I’ve earned this feeling. I hope I continue to evolve into even greater versions of myself as I continue through life, and I’m excited to share that journey with you here.

“Emotional Bloodletting” (Or, Why This Blog Exists in the First Place)

Why do you blog?

Here’s the short answer: so I don’t lose my freakin’ mind.

The long answer is a bit more complicated.

I started this blog back in 2018 (I think). At the time, I was married to someone I wasn’t truly in love with and stuck in a conservative church that increasingly came to represent everything I didn’t want to stand for. I was still fresh out of college with a journalism degree I knew I was never going to use, but I still had the itch to write something. Anything. So my blog, which at the time was titled “I’m sorry I mean it,” simply became me screaming my displeasure with my current life into the void. “I’m sorry I mean it” was a double meaning — “I’m sorry and I mean it,” and “I’m sorry, but I mean what I’m saying.”

Writing has always been a catharsis for me, though, dating back to elementary school. When I was teased mercilessly and ostracized by nearly everyone, I made up characters to serve as “friends” for me. I didn’t have imaginary friends in the traditional sense of the word — I knew these characters were make-believe — but they were real enough to me to fill a void. My long school days were spent daydreaming about these fictional characters, and eventually, their stories spilled onto paper. I’d hurry up and finish my work for the day, then spend the rest of my time fleshing out these characters in stories I dreamed up, usually inspired by whatever I was into at the time. I had a whole series based around three pets trying to get home and the grand adventures they would go on.

My writing is nothing if not derivative, but it’s cool.

That’s part of why I find it harder to write these days. For the first time, I’m genuinely pretty happy. I don’t have to rely on my inner world to satiate my desire for human interaction. I have two amazing partners, a wildly supportive family, and more friends than I know what to do with. But I still love writing to clear my mind on the bad days. It’s how I handle negative emotions, as evidenced by the everything on this blog. If I couldn’t write about my music therapy journey on here, for example, I probably would have lost my mind. The entire experience was so traumatic, I needed to vent about it somehow. Just the act of hitting “publish” on a blog post gives me a sense of relief. As painful as it is to put these emotions down into words, once it’s over, it’s no longer stuck inside me. In a way, it’s emotional bloodletting.

There are other reasons I write too. I realize I have a unique lived experience as a queer polyamorous Christian woman, and I have a platform where I can tell my side of the story. In a world that’s become increasingly hostile to folks breaking the norm, I feel like my words give a voice to a lot of people who aren’t represented in media. I know this from private messages I’ve received. My blog makes people feel seen, and I love it for that reason. My mom always encouraged me to write about socio-political issues — the pen is mightier than the sword, as she would say.

I *know* I’ve made this joke before, but it bears repeating. It’s what Mom would’ve wanted.

Writing, to me, is my biggest catharsis aside from music, and the two often go hand-in-hand. I’ve written some of my best lyrics as a result of emotional turmoil. “Ladies Don’t Start Fights (But They Can Finish Them)” was written about a feud with a former best friend who betrayed my trust. “Queen” was written during a time when my bipolar swung into a deep depression as a way to lift my own spirits. My newest song, “Fake Nice,” is my way of coping with criticism from my partner’s mother, someone whose opinion of me I valued. If I couldn’t write about the things that bother me, I don’t think I would have made it this far in life.

If you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, I want to personally thank you for being with me through the highs and lows. It hasn’t been an easy few years, and this blog has seen me through some of my worst days. I appreciate the time you’ve taken to read my words and take them to heart. I do this not just for me, but for you, too! This is my way of screaming to the world, “Hey! You’re not alone!” I just want to be a light on someone else’s darkest times. I want people to read this blog and know that they’re in good company, that things will eventually turn out okay with time.

And that’s why I write.

Bloganuary #2: Playtime

We onto day two, alright? So far so good!

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

I love this prompt because I’m a huge proponent of playtime, whatever that looks like to you. There’s something freeing about being silly and doing things you love in a society that pushes hustle culture and the mentality of “you have to be doing something productive every waking second of the day or else you are wasting your life.” I admit I’m prone to this thinking. For a long time, I didn’t want to play. Or rather, I wanted to, but it felt like a waste of time. What are you accomplishing by simply having fun?

Turns out, quite a bit!

According to Psychology Today, play can be a way for an adult to “reduce stress, promote optimism, and strengthen one’s ability to take on other perspectives.” It’s also a great for socializing, as anyone who’s ever been to a game night with family and friends will tell you. Play is one of my favorite ways to build relationships in my life, and I always end up feeling closer to the people I engage in it with.

Until your mom steals all your stars in Mario Party and she’s suddenly Satan.

As adults, we don’t leave a lot of playtime in our schedule. When we do have free time, it’s usually spent passively consuming media, which isn’t inherently bad, but like food that lacks nutritional value, can be detrimental in high doses. What happened to getting out a big sheet of paper and drawing stuff? Or going outside and playing a sport. Even playing a video game that requires you to use some brain cells is beneficial — research shows that gaming can have a positive effect on memory and attention.

No, I was not wasting my time as a child playing The Sims. I was, uh, working on my cognition.

In my personal life, I try to allot some time every day for play. One of my favorite ways to unwind is art. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the greatest artist ever (see: my potato-looking oil painting from my most recent blog post), but I find it relaxing and engaging. There’s a certain amount of freedom in doing something just for you. In the past, I’ve attempted to sell my works, but I’ve realized you don’t have to monetize everything you do. It’s okay to do something for fun!

Same with swimming. Back when I lived in Michigan, I had a membership to a gym with a pool, and I’d go every morning just to splash around and doggy paddle from one end of the pool to the other until I got tired. I wasn’t doing it to train for the Olympics or even just to stay in shape. I did it because I just liked it. I liked the feel of the water, the feel of floating, the way being in the pool took me back to an innocent time when I’d splash around in my backyard pool as a child.

And of course, I play video games. I typically enjoy simulation games like Stardew Valley, The Sims, and Animal Crossing, games where I can feel a sense of control over the world and everything that happens in it. People really underestimate the power of imagination! Using our uniquely human ability to create entire worlds is the closest thing we’ll ever experience to being God, and I think in a way, it brings us closer to the Divine, however that looks for you. I love creating characters and telling stories, which has been a human phenomenon for time immemorial. The ability to engage in imaginative play is what makes us, well, us.

These are just a few examples from my life, and I hope they inspire you to find your own form of playtime. How do you “play” as an adult? Feel free to tell me in the comments!