Making Things, Jazz On CD, Tapping Into The Universal Hum: 2024 Edition

I’m coming into 2024 hot, folks.

Okay, maybe not hot but with a dull, orange glow of a meteor entering earth’s atmosphere. That glow is the glow of creativity. I told myself on New Year’s Eve that I wanted to make this year one where I put energy into making things, as opposed to letting the world remind me that time is going by quicker than I can shake a stick at it. Even if it’s just drawing silly things in my sketch book, recording songs that no one will hear but me, or painting on canvas with zero skill set, I want 2024 to be a year where I leave a mark on the world with creativity. Tapping into my imagination and documenting that process on paper, canvas, or hard drive is what I want to spend this year doing. Despite the rather hermit-like weekend this first full weekend of 2024 was, I felt I kept to that resolution(if you want to call it that.)

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The biggest problem with painting for me is that I’ve never had a permanent spot to do so. I’ve always just painted at the kitchen table. Small stuff isn’t so bad; working on small pieces like in sketch books or postcard-size projects with watercolors, colored pencils, or just drawing with pencil isn’t bad. But using canvas and paints is kind of a pain. Laying out the tarp, the paints, the brushes, then having to put everything away because we still need the kitchen table for eating is a real pain. It’s not conducive to being creative.

So yesterday I went downstairs and set up the easel that my son bought me a couple years ago that I have never used before. I put my painting tarp underneath it(an old sheet), and a small table that we’ve had forever on wheels made for a great spot to put all my paints. It’s set up in the music room, so it’s out of the way from normal daily traffic and it’s still out of the way so the kids can use it for watching TV and hanging out. And if my son wants to play drums or have someone over the jam with it’s pretty easy to just move out of the way temporarily. I was able to get some work done on a new piece and not have to put everything away. You know, like a real art studio.

I’m not sure why I never did that before. Well yeah, I do know why. I’ve always seen myself as a musician, and the music studio was for making music. When I first started dabbling with painting well over three years ago it felt more like just a little fun experimentation. I didn’t know what I was doing, so it never felt serious. Taking up space in my studio with paints and easels and the like just didn’t feel right to me. Now, though, it does feel right. I’m more drawn to those experiments with paint than I am making music. Don’t get me wrong, I still love making music. But painting and collage feels like exploring new territory. I still don’t know what I’m doing, but now it feels more revelatory to me. I’m discovering something inside of me that I think was always there, it was just sitting dormant. Like finding a door in your house that you’d never realized was there before, and when you find the key to open it you discover this amazing world to get lost in.

I kind of like the feeling of not knowing the technical aspect of painting and drawing. I’m writing my own rules and building my own worlds my way. It may not be correct “technically”, but who cares? I don’t. Besides, I’ve got a great stereo in that room and was listening to Elvin Jones’ Revival : Live At Pookie’s Pub while working on my latest piece. It was kind of magical.

Speaking of pieces, the latest is another collage. Part of I guess you could say my “Jazz Series”. Early last year I made my first collage/paint piece with John Coltrane. A couple weeks ago I finished my second with Miles Davis. This weekend I worked on my Herbie Hancock piece. I’ve always loved making collages. It started out when I was younger, cutting up duplicate photos we’d get when getting film developed. They were more or less for laughs, but I did get something out of it. Making people laugh was great, but putting these photos together to create some absurdist version of the real world was quite satisfying.

Applying the absurd to some of my favorite jazz artists and combining the collage with paints has been incredibly satisfying. I don’t do realism. I can’t “draw” John Coltrane, but I can collage some photos of him and paint around it. That I can do. And I find of creatively and aesthetically pleasing.

So I think I’ve found my “thing”, the jazz collage. I’m being creative while also paying tribute to the artists that have filled me with great joy over the years. Next up? I think Thelonious Monk. Or maybe Freddie Hubbard. We’ll see.

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Last weekend I made my brother a birthday card for his 56th birthday. I didn’t want to just buy a card. I wanted to make it personal; something that meant something to him and I. When we were kids(him being 6 years older than me) we watched a TV movie called Bill with Mickey Rooney. Rooney was a mentally disabled man and Dennis Quaid was a filmmaker that wanted to make a documentary about Bill. It wasn’t anything special really, but for some reason that movie resonated with us. Probably because we thought Mickey Rooney was funny or something inappropriate like that. Bill liked green beans, and would often say “My name is William, Bill for short.”

So I decided to draw Mickey Rooney from Bill. It was a photo of Bill wearing this awful wig and holding a harmonica. It’s not perfect, but I definitely have a style. Bizarro-chic.

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I also added to my Jazz CD collection. I used a gift card I received for my birthday and grabbed Miles Davis’ excellent Miles In The Sky and a 5-CD collection of Lee Morgan Blue Note CDs. I love having CDs for the car and for the disc changer in the house. I have an OG Miles In The Sky vinyl, but I love that album so much that having a copy for car rides seemed like a no-brainer. And oddly enough, I have no Miles Davis on CD. Weird, huh?

Lee Morgan was one of the first jazz albums I bought. His album The Sidewinder was purchased in Chicago at the Jazz Record Mart way back in 2009. Definitely falls into the hard bop category. He was a prolific trumpeter, putting out an astounding amount of records as a bandleader, as well as a prolific session player. He died at the age of 33 after being shot in a club by his common law wife. The injury wasn’t life-threatening, but because of a snowstorm in New York that night the ambulance was delayed in getting there due to terrible road conditions. He bled out before he could get to the hospital.

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Okay guys, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Just wanted to check in and see how you all are doing. I’m feeling optimistic about this year. At least more than I was a week ago. We’re still heading into a presidential election year that is going to be an absolute dumpster fire. I mean, if you have a large swath of the population that doesn’t believe in facts and reality how can it not? But that’s the macro, man. I’m gonna concentrate on the micro. My world, my family, my people, and my interests. And me, of course. That means diving into creating things and living healthier. Dropping some weight, getting paint on my hands, and locking into that universal hum that moves us all towards something bigger than ourselves. Start in your own backyard, your own head, then go from there.

So it goes.