WHERE DO SONGS COME FROM?

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Where do songs come from? Although I can’t speak for everyone, if I’m talking about myself I would say that they come from a collage of memories and experiences stored somewhere in the subconscious. If you are coming to this page from Instagram, then perhaps you have seen a short video of my strange looking closet. A few years ago I realized I needed to make a space for myself in which there was nothing else I could do but play music. I wanted it to be inspiring but didn’t really have any money to decorate it. So I found a bunch of old magazines and books that we were going to take to the goodwill and grabbed a staple gun. First I set up my record player and put on some of my favorite records. Then I started cutting up old magazines, digging through old photographs and books and stapling everything to the wall. After hours of doing this I eventually had a small cozy closet space that felt as if you were living inside of a book.

Then I started cutting up old magazines, digging through old photographs and books and stapling everything to the wall. After hours of doing this I eventually had a small cozy closet space that felt as if you were living inside of a book.

Then I started cutting up old magazines, digging through old photographs and books and stapling everything to the wall. After hours of doing this I eventually had a small cozy closet space that felt as if you were living inside of a book.

The photo of me at the top of the page turned up during the process of making the closet. Nowadays everything is digital but I love looking at physical photographs. There is something about them that connects to memory in a way that digital photographs do not. The photo was taken around the time I wrote “Solomon’s Glory”. When I look back at this image I can remember where this song came from and what I was thinking about during that time of my life. Around the same time this photo of me was taken my sister had given me a book that was a collection of portraits of American farmers from the early 1900’s. The portraits of these people were amazing and opened up many visions to me of what these peoples lives may have been like. I heard somewhere that most people remember everything that happens in their life, meaning that it's all inside your mind somewhere. The issue is just gaining access to these memories, which is what most people think of as really remembering something. These days I can get bummed out with life being so busy and feeling like there is not enough time to write songs. But I see potential stories happening all the time—in a stranger's glance or a glimpse of a passing landscape on the highway— there are so many things that trigger whole worlds that could be created. It all happens so fast; you don't have time to interpret or share these thoughts. This used to freak me out, like maybe I just need to stop everything and try to get this idea down or I'll never see it again. Just recently I'm making a real effort to not see it in that way. I think it's true that you remember everything on some level and if you approach your days with the right attitude, openness to beauty and intentionality in your vision, you are much more likely to be able to create pathways for yourself to access these ideas later when you have time to work. I had this really interesting moment with my daughter Katrina where we saw these abandoned leather shoes in a grassy area next to a telephone pole near the sidewalk. They were extremely bent, no laces and looked like they were made a long time ago. Both Katrina and I were very interested in them. Something about the way the shoes were bent and positioned seemed eerie but also hopeful to me. I guess I started imagining that the shoes hadn't just been dumped out of some car, but that the person wearing them had disappeared or been taken away to some other world. I had an idea of what that world might look like but not too much time to think about it. That being said, it started up a conversation. I think at this point in my creative process I trust that my subconscious will think more about it and do a lot of the work for me. When the idea reappears, I might not recognize it, but that's okay. So at that moment in time when we were standing there looking at those shoes, I was able to just enjoy thinking that the world could be strange like that. I don't know why Katrina was so interested in them but it must have opened up some completely different set of imaginary stories for her based around her unique experiences and way of seeing the world. We stopped for a couple minutes on our walk and took some pictures of them. Then we looked at the pictures and laughed and laughed. It was a cool moment of convergence where I felt like I could have fun with my daughter and be a good father but also be working on artistic pursuits. 

Those farm portraits from the book my sister gave me really stuck with me. I recently have made a music video for “Solomon’s Glory” (see below) using some public domain footage. Some of the footage contains similar images to those portraits I stared at many years ago. Sometimes ideas take a really long time to manifest themselves into pieces of artwork we can share. I’m hopeful about the creative process these days though. I think if we are patient and approaching each day with an openness to see the possibilities, new imaginary worlds can emerge even in ordinary places. If we can begin to cultivate a kind of awareness of these possibilities, eventually it can become a discipline and lens for working on art all the time. Perhaps over time, as we get better at it actual songs can happen faster. But even if not , it’s good to remember to enjoy the process, no matter how long it takes. 

Kurt Schuler