My life as an artist is fundamentally ordered to bringing people beauty and excellence.
But few people outside of other artists know the chaos that undergirds a lot of what comes out the other side as something worth listening to, reading, or engaging with. I don’t know how it can ever be any other way—although that is one of the many codes I am trying to crack.
I spent July in an excessively elevated state of cortisol working through some pressing client deadlines, travelling to connect with other culture-changers and some of our extended investor network, and trying to keep up with the amazing guys doing the final work for the tracks for the album releasing on October 15th with my Catholic project.
(But don’t fret; I take magnesium and go to the beach, too, team.)
My mind is always buzzing. I don’t write or compose much these days—formally.
Of course, the artist is always creating.
I write melodies and lyrics as my day goes on and maybe also in my sleep, but in this season, they are just for me and God and the multitude of heaven. I have no time to get them down for those of us down here.
It’s alright. As I spoke of in a previous post, life is largely about seasons. We do a lot if we focus and accept doing things sequentially. The most important part of our lives is to just keep stepping into the plans we have set—chipping away and being as faithful as we can. Often, we look behind and realize that our progress is substantive and the little decisions along the way weren’t really that little. This has been repeatedly true in my life.
I have had past seasons where I wrote and wrote and wrote. I have hundreds—thousands—of songs, poems, and half-written essays to show for it.
Now is the season to get at least try to get a few of them down in the studio so they can be properly shared. Perhaps once I have a few of the other “machines” I am building that can run themselves a little more without me, I can also do more of the studio work along with more formal writing and creating.
But for now, in between client work, a lot of meetings with artists and investors and collaborators, and the backdrop work of making pathways for our new “dissident artists” in a hostile industry (and while trying to ignore the doomsday other realities that flood into Twitter)—I am heading back into the studio.
This time, it’s for an exciting collaboration with an incredible DJ (can’t wait to share), as well as for a project that has long been in my heart about home. I need to be oblique until these are both more in development, but am excited to share in the right moment.
On four dates in August & September, I’ll be hanging out with my buddy at his amazing studio in LA, where just this week some household names floated through for a project. I don’t care much about that (I’m building *new* channels and have long left the traditional music industry in my rearview), but I am happy to see my friends succeeding, and I am always fascinated by the closeness of the world stage in my life as an artist out here.
So, today, in honour of the upcoming project under my “regular” folk work, I want to share a Canadian folk song with you that I love—a lullaby, also from the old choir days:
And: in between all of the buzzing, we really are building pathways for the best and most promising, excellent artists of integrity of our time—across all media.
Bet on it, and fight with us for something better.
We will be beginning a formal application process for artists soon (that’s all I can say - one day at a time with everything, even though we have already started doing client work), but if that description of top quality fits you or someone you know, please reach out here for now:
management@kayclarity.art
Much to come! Keep your hope alive. xx