The Art of Living Creatively:

with Lu Lu and the Duz – S2 Ep 1

Conversations between the bandmates of the ARTs dept.

Lucy Dallman and Billy Van Duzor

L: And we’re back, ladies and gentlemen.

B: (chuckling in the background)

L: To the “Art of Creating,” No, No…that is not the title.

B: TAKE TWO!

L: The Art of Living Creatively with Lu Lu and the Duz. So, Duz, last podcast season we had an in-depth conversation about one of our collaborative projects – our song writing.

B: Yep, we did.

L: We delved into all the different ways that we work through some of our songs.

B: Uh-hmm.

L: Which was pretty fascinating for me. I learned from our conversation a bit about your process that I would not have understood had we not talked about it. Sort of the meta of how your mind works when you’re creating the music for our songs.

B: Yeah, me too.

L: So, collaboration. I don’t know. Do we need any other-that is not-uhm, I am about to put words in your mouth. I’m betting that collaboration would not be your first choice in a creative endeavor. Is that correct?

B: It would not. No, it is fair. I would not choose to collaborate with others creatively. I don’t really like people very much.

L and B: (both laugh)

B: Let’s put it out there right from the beginning. In general, I prefer being alone.

L: Yeah, and you ended up with a work roommate who is just the opposite, which is quite ironic, don’t you think?

B: In terms of creativity, for sure, I would prefer to go it alone. I would say almost always.

L: In all aspects of your life, really. (spoken with a loud pitched cackle)

B: Yes. I really like solitude.

L: Ahhh- it’s funny because my creative endeavors before this music adventure were mostly independent. Because-

B: Well, I think most people’s are. I think that when you’re trying things out, unless you are planning on a collaboration or learning something new, you would naturally work solo. I think it is rare to find a good collaboration in art projects.

L: Yeah, maybe, I guess I never thought about it before.

B: Are any of your fabric pieces done collaboratively? Aren’t most of them done on your own?

L: For the most part, yes. I have done collaborative quilt projects, but those have been me coming up with an idea or theme of a piece, and then enlisting other artists to help me execute the project.

B: Wasn’t the AIDS quilt a collaborative project?

L: Hmm - that is a good question. I don’t know how that project was classified. It was extremely powerful. It was collaborative in the sense that all of the individual quilts were displayed together. Individual quilters created single quilts which were then grouped and exhibited. The power of the piece was seeing all the single quilts displayed side by side. The power of that installation, for me anyway, was the display of collective pain and sadness. The power in numbers. Just how many individuals were affected by the disease.

B: I guess it is not a collaboration. The artists weren’t working with other people on a specific project or problem.

L: I don’t know. I think you could argue that it was collaborative, in the sense that the piece, as a whole, was so much more powerful than each individual quilt.

B: Quilters weren’t working together on individual pieces, but presenting or displaying as a whole?

L: Right. Even my yarn bombs which I create periodically are worked in that manner. I come up with an idea or theme. As you know, I am a member of The League of Women Voters, an organization committed to educating the populace and promoting the rights of our citizenry to vote! One of my yarn bombs had a “get out the vote,” theme.  During the pandemic I created a “hope’ based bomb with knit fairies and birds adorning public trees in my town. Once I have a theme, a bunch of my knitter friends create pieces based on the theme. They have complete autonomy as to what they create. Then we come together to hang the composition. “In the cover of night” (spoken in a whisper) No later than 8:30 p.m. as we all want to be in bed by 10!

My goal with all of my public-art pieces is to have our audiences be surprised. One day the trees in our neighborhood are bare, and the next they are covered in hanging colorful yarn creations.

B: That all sounds very different from our song collaborations. Maybe music is unique in the collaborative process. You can work through lyrics and chords to create a song in real time and not have to wait for individual parts to be created and then combined.

L: The difference in our process seems to be, and we’ve talked about this before, that our different songs have lent themselves to different collaboration processes.

B: Yeah, different styles of collaboration, that is true.

L: So, I think we’ve -

B: Was there a question in there?

L: No, there was no question. A lot of this podcast is just our banter. Come on, your millennial brain should have picked up on that! Isn’t that what all the successful podcasters do – just shoot the breeze with their guest?

B: I don’t know. How would I know?

L: I think that’s the beauty of podcasts.

B: Well, thank you to Pfizer for allowing us to shoot the breeze! There’s a boomer slang if ever I heard one – shoot the breeze.

L: Oh, shut up!

B: Fight # 510 ladies and gentlemen. You heard it start here.

L:(laughing) All right, enough. Let’s take some time to talk about “middles.” This season we are focusing on how and why to keep going when you are in the middle.

B: Oh yeah. Your question was, “Do I prefer, or would I choose, to collaborate or would I choose to write songs by myself?”

L: Right. We are really just closing out the collaboration conversation.

B: Gotcha.

L: And we’ve mentioned this before, it is not even an option for me to NOT collaborate when it comes to the music part of writing songs.

B: Well, I don’t know.

L: I don’t have the option right now in my musical abilities/knowledge, or whatever you want to call it, to create music to accompany the lyrics I create.

B: That is getting less and less true. If you really wanted to create the music you could. You would probably be limited in the chords and chord progressions you would use, but you could do a simple song.

L: I guess, but it wouldn’t be as good as what you come-up with. 

B: When you brought me songs and melodies you had in your head, you didn’t bring me “nothing.” You always brought me a sort of outline to the tune or vibe you wanted for particular lyrics. They may not have been finished pieces, but you didn’t bring me “nothing.”

L: I guess. We can agree that rarely did I bring you just words.

B: When you did bring me just words it was intentional, you would bring me lyrics, a poem really, and say something like, “What do you think would work with this, musically?” So, I guess you weren’t bringing me finished songs, but you could have.

L: Hmm- that is questionable. I mean, I’m okay with that. It’s just the way it is. I don’t have, as we have talked about in the past, the musical knowledge that you have worked years to achieve.

B: Right, your vocabulary is not honed or developed as much as mine is. It’s not where you want it to be.

L: Right or maybe never. Ahh- you know what – let’s not skip down the “lost chances” conversation right now. Let’s not go down that road at this juncture! Let’s head back into our “take two.”

Here is a question: Creating takes time, energy and the will to finish, So -

What inspires you to finish a song?

B: To be honest with you, you’re the inspiration for me to finish most of the music I create right now.

L: WHAT? (said inside of deep booming laughter)

B: Because I just don’t

L: (continues laughing)

B: You’re the only person who has ever asked me to play a song I have written or to share something with them. 

L: Wow- that is unbelievable to me.

B: Honestly, I don’t think I would ever have finished a song if you hadn’t given me a challenge and a deadline to work with. When you say to me, “I would love to hear that,” It motivates me to finish, to complete a song. Because left on my own, I would just leave my unfinished pieces. It does not leave me unsatisfied to have unfinished songs.

L: Right.

B: It is fun to have finished something and say, “Here’s what I did.” From beginning to end. So, I do think you’re the only reason I finish songs.

L: Okay, I find that kind of fascinating because you went to music school. You had to finish songs there, didn’t you?

B: Oh yeah, I had assignments I had to finish. I had a lot of different things which I had to create for undergrad and grad school. And it’s not that I can’t finish songs. It was that I didn’t need to finish songs to feel satisfied with my creative urges. I am happy with the creation of just little snippets of music which I produce. I don’t have projects, or deadlines that I have to meet, except for the ones that you give me.

L: Right. Old Bossy Pants.

B: I have certainly finished many songs. But I’m not writing for a band.

L: Wait a second, ladies and gentlemen, he does have a band he writes for. Are you forgetting about the ARTs dept?

B: (laughing) Right.

L: I mean, we do write songs and play them under “the ARTs dept.” name. Now, do the songs go anywhere? Do we have a record contract? Do we have a fan base outside of our family and friends? Maybe not. Hell, yes, we are a band!

B: You know what I mean. I don’t have a band which I expect to make my livelihood from, which I need to complete songs for in order to support my family. I have completed many songs for many different ensembles that I’ve worked with over the years. But those were out of, I guess, out of my environment, not particularly a collaboration. In music school everyone was creating songs, bringing new pieces to the table and then kind of working through arrangements together.

L: That reminds me of “workshopping” during writing classes I have taken. Where you bring a piece of writing to a group and ask for clarification and feedback on the in-process work. Did you do that process in music school, where you would bring unfinished songs or compositions to a group and ask for feedback?

B: Yes, but we would never have called it workshopping.

L: What is it called in music school?

B: Nothing. We would have said, “Hey, what do you think about this?” Then play a bit, or talk through a concept. Basically, doing the same process you were describing. At the time of music school, I was in my early 20s and I was much more willing to share and was more adventurous. 

When I was in music school, sharing was encouraged. That is just what you did. Students were encouraged, and most people I encountered were willing to help each other. We were also encouraged to try new things, no matter how horrible they might be. So I remember sharing songs I was working on with people, which is exactly workshopping. But we would never have  labeled it that. That is way too grown-up of a term. Twenty-somethings are way too cool to label a practice. Everything seemed to be organic and free form.

L: Back then, would you have suggested changes to other students’ work?

B: Oh yeah, absolutely. We would be harmonizing and riffing on pieces and it would organically come up, “Hey, what do you think about this?” Or, “Have you thought about changing this?” I remember one time one of my friends said, “The only thing I like is the title.” So I threw away everything but the title.

L: (laughing) I love it that 20-somethings are opposed to labels. I really find “workshopping” my writing to be very helpful. You and I do a form of workshopping when we play our game. “Which line do you like?”

B: Oh yeah. 

L: Let’s tell our listeners what we do.

B: Be my guest.

L: What we do pick a theme or large topic, and then we write out free-form lines for three minutes or so. Then we read each line to one another, and the listener chooses the lines that resonate with them. Then we have lines that we both like, which gives us a starting point on the compositions we are working on.

B: We should say that we both have veto power over the other person’s opinion.

L: Right. There are times, not very often, where we each decide we want to keep a line the other has nixed. 

B: I think that’s important too. We each have authority over our own work. We have the confidence and trust in each other to stand up for our individual work. Sometimes that little game can reinforce that you are on the right track with what you were thinking.

L: So how – because this is your life, “Music is your life.” Some form of that saying should be placed on your headstone.

L and B: (both laughing)

L: You’ve chosen a musical career.

B: I did, yeah. This is not the one I drew-up at 17.

L: Yeah, at 17 I was planning on being an actress. That never happened. Or it is happening every day!

B: My career is a musical career-ish.

L: I would say more than -ish.

B: Education is the career. Music is the vehicle to deliver what I really have to do, lesson planning, classroom management, herding kids.

L: Yep, that is all true.

B: I guess music is the carrot which drives all of the education pieces.

L: Right.

B: But that is a whole different podcast episode. Anyway, you were saying, I have a musical career.

L: I believe I said, “Music is your life.”

B: Oh right, music is my life!

L: Looking back on my life, because you know all of this is all about me! (laughing) I think my whole life I have been searching for creative pursuits to explore and be able to express myself in. My career is education, yet my creative pursuits have been wide and varied. My career allowed me to be on my own children’s school year and daily schedule. Once they were grown, I was able to pursue different creative adventures during our school breaks.

B: I think trying to find different creative pursuits has served you well. Too many people go through life without the ambition to try new things. I think you’ve have always understood, well, now I am putting words in your mouth.

L: That’s okay. I want to hear your perspective.

B: I think you have always understood how important creativity is.

L: I like to think I have.

B: For everybody. But for yourself too. You seem to find things that make you feel, I don’t know, your creative endeavors make you feel…

L: Creativity and creating make me feel alive.

B: You do seem to be constantly chasing that high. In my eyes, you never seem to know where you’re going to find it next. I’m betting you’ve gotten tastes of it from all kinds of different creative avenues.

L: Yes, that is definitely true.

B: I think we humans are still trying to find what is the best, easiest path to getting that high. I think the problem with creativity, just like the problem with hard core drugs…

L: (laughing)

B: …is that you get a taste for it and then it changes. The high changes. Then you can’t replicate it.

L: Hmm.

B: When that creative high hits you, you’re like, “Oh shit, this is happening right now!” And then you try to replicate it, but it doesn’t work. 

I’m like that with new music. When I hear a piece, and it resonates with me I want to play it over and over again. Yet you only get that initial punch in the gut the first time you hear the piece. That creative high hits me during live music performances as well.

L: When you’re performing or viewing or listening?

B: Definitely the first time I perform a piece, but also when I’m the viewer and watching a performance for the first time. I just keep trying to find the moments which mean something to me, the performances that really blow me away. It does come down to chasing that high. You never know how or where you’re going to find it.

L: Here is a follow-up question for you: Do you think sports enthusiasts are chasing that same high with sports as we creatives are with creating?

B: No, I think sports participation and watching sporting events are outlets for sure, but I don’t think it’s the same. Well, there is the “runner’s high.” You’ve talked about experiencing that.

L: When running was a part of my life the runner’s high was definitely a thing. I did not find the runner’s high, and the high, or flow I experience when I create to be the same thing.

B: I don’t think it’s the same thing either. Maybe comparable. They’re both something people chase. The problem with sports, as I see it, is that at the end of the day you are left with nothing there’s no product. Maybe there is a win or a loss, but no tangible product. With creativity, you are left with something and maybe an idea of what the next creative project will be. I do think they might both be vehicles for pursuing the release of dopamine, or whatever your brain produces to make you feel good.

L: I think it is dopamine.

B: Our trusty sponsor can tell us: Pfizer, what is it?

L and B: (both laughing)

L: Let’s get back to the big question “How do you keep going in the middle of a project?”

B: Finding a way to push through the middle is important because there are times when creating is not fun or easy.

L: Middles can be really frustrating. And why don’t you, the collective you, or we, just give-up? What’s forcing, no that is not the right word, what is spurring us on to keep going. To keep creating?

B: I would say most people just give up. That seems to be the easy way out. I think, it is the same kind of thing, chasing those feelings of accomplishment and excitement. Why do we keep going? I don’t know, why the “collective we” keeps going. I know that I need to. I have to keep creating. There is a part of me that can’t give it up. 

There are times that I’m tired and frustrated and would like to drop or ignore the thread of the inspiration which comes my way. But for some unknown-to- me reason I have to keep going. For me, it is an overwhelming urge to create. I don’t know if I was born with that or am somehow predisposed to that urge.

L: Yes. I get antsy when I don’t have a creative project to work on. It’s kinda weird. 

Just a couple of months ago, an acquaintance re-told a conversation she had with her sister. She said they were talking about me the other night and sister agreed that I’m the most creative person they know.

I took it as such a compliment. Now what they really might have been saying was, “You are the weirdest person we know.”  I decided not to go there!

B and L: (both laughing)

L: I don’t bring that up to get a response, or a pat on the back. I just wonder whether because of who I am, I force the creative process on other people. I do believe that everyone, I mean all humans, are creative in some way. I like to think I’m inspiring and not an obnoxious creative, just bugging people with my creative “wonderings.”

B: Well, you do make your point known. You are creative and you expect creativity from those around you. 

L: Is that a bad thing? Am I a creative pain-in- the ass?

B: (laughing) No, I don’t think that. I do think the difference between you and other people is that you don’t seem to be afraid to share your work, no matter where you are at in the creative process.

So the fact that someone thinks that you are the most creative person they know is partially, I think, because you are vocal about what you are doing. Or looking to do.

L: Right. I might even be considered an over sharer.

B: I wouldn’t say that. I think it’s great that you share your ideas and work in progress with others. I wish I did more of that. But I don’t. I don’t know if I ever will. But I do think it is wonderful to talk about.

You also put yourself in these weird creative experiences, ones that I don’t think other people think to do.

L: (laughing) Like who decides they want to write a Broadway musical on “mothers and sons?”

B: Right. Of course you do. 

L: And there will be tap dancing involved with that project.

B: I don’t doubt that for a second!

I think more people should try new things and put themselves in creative experiences. It really is more interesting.

L: Okay. Let’s switch gears a bit. Your life is very different from mine. I had your life. Billy D. and I raised three children. I juggled work and kids for a good 25 years.

B: Yeah, I am right in the middle of it all with a four and an eight-year-old.

L: Through those child rearing intense family years I always carved out time to create. I think I sort of forced the issue. My kids knew I needed that creative time. My husband helped me find that time. I made it clear, and I made it work with babysitters and taking classes.

B: And you knew it. More importantly, you knew that creativity had to be a priority.

L: Yes. Do you feel that way? Now that you are in the midst of child rearing and major family responsibilities, do you do that? Do you demand time to create in your life?

B: I think it’s different between you and I. You were home with your kids and had to carve out time away from them. Luckily, I have a job where I do have a creative outlet. I also have time here at school to create. I don’t have time at home, otherwise, I would have to carve out creative time. But luckily, I have breaks here at work that allow me to have time for creative pursuits in the guise of work. And I have you. You didn’t have a you.

L: No, I did not have a Bossy-Pants constantly bugging me to try new things.

B: Imagine if you did have a you at that time. Never mind. That is a weird thing to think about.

L: (laughing) I do still think it’s important to carve out time for creativity. There have been times in my life when peripheral people have suggested that my creative time and choices have been selfish. At the time that hurt and made me question my choices. But looking back it’s what I had to do to be a sane me. 

B: Well, here’s the thing about that. I think about all kinds of pursuits that others deem important: going to the gym daily, going for runs…or people who take time for themselves for whatever reason. If you took those things away from that person, would that person’s relationships be better?

L: Hmm.

B: Or would they somehow have resentments? If a person needs whatever it is to make them whole or sane, and it makes their relationships with their children, spouse/partner, their friends, better, then I think the individual should definitely take the time to pursue what they need. I don’t believe that self-care is selfishness.

And maybe the people who were suggesting that you were selfish were just projecting and missing out themselves. Some people don’t know what to do outside of work and family obligations.

L: You and I have talked about that in the past, that when someone dramatically suggests or criticizes something about you, it’s almost inevitably about them, projecting their own insecurities.

B: It’s always about them. And people are very quick to point out what they believe to be flaws in others. 

L: Not a great human quality, is it? On that note, we are going to have to say goodbye. We have run out of time, again. The kindergartners are knocking on our door! Thank you, Duz, for another great conversation.

B: Excellent, as they always are.