The Art of Living Creatively:

with Lu Lu and the Duz – S2 Ep 2

Conversations between the bandmates of the ARTs dept.

Lucy Dallman and Billy Van Duzor.

L: And we are BACK, ladies and gentlemen. (breaks down laughing)

B: Just like Terry Gross.

L: (still laughing) Do you know that she is a super short human?

B: Yeah, super short!

L: Super short.

B: Tiny.

L: A little mite. A mighty mite of a person.

B: Did she retire?

L: I don’t know.

B: She may have retired.

L: All the good people are retiring.

B: I wonder if she has a normal speaking voice and then turns her interview voice on for “Fresh Air?”

L: Or, is that her voice, and she’s like that all the time.

B: Do we just associate her voice with a public-radio-type voice?

L: Don’t you think all public-radio people have sort of that breathy, soft almost a calm whisper voice?

B: It’s like a podcaster’s voice too.

L: Have you listened to, I am sure you haven’t because she is interviewing 80-year-old women!

B: Julia Louis Dreyfus.

L: Yeah. She is not your typical podcaster. She’s a total potty mouth. I LOVE it.

B: She is so funny though.

L: Yes, she is hilarious.

Okay, enough banter. Let’s get started. We are in the middle. And I think we have covered collaboration. We’ve covered that creating takes time and how you can find time. What I would like to get your thoughts on now is what you do when creating is NOT fun. I find that sometimes when you are in the midst of the creative process it just isn’t that fun. And I have to will myself to just keep going, plowing through the hard stuff.

B: Uh-hmm.

L: What motivates you in those times? What makes you push through the uncomfortable? I think back to my own struggles with middles, and I hate to admit this, but deadlines for me really, really force my hand and make me finish projects.

B: Oh yeah, I think that is true for many people. I myself, thrive under a deadline. I almost must have one. 

L: I know. Doesn’t that seem counterintuitive?

B: It is, yet, I don’t think it stifles creativity. I think it actually might help. When I’m under a little bit of pressure, I think I am more focused. Like you said, it forces you to complete something.

L: Right.

B: Improvising and trying to solve a problem, I think throughout my whole life, I’ve  come up with the most creative solutions when I absolutely have to. Whether it is at my house or dealing with a difficult child at work. If there is pressure on me, I come up with some sort of solution.

L: Right. And I find that pushing through forces you to come up with something. Because for me, I know it’s not the end of the process. For me it is plowing through that first draft.

B: Right, a deadline creates a version of an ending. Maybe it is THE END. Or maybe it’s a resting point.

L: Right.

B: Because without a deadline or some reason to finish, I just wouldn’t ever finish, which as I keep repeating, is Okay with me. I do like finishing things, but I really like the making of the thing. Deadlines help me wrap up projects.

L: I think about people who have to make a living with their art-not have to- choose to make their living with their art. I don’t think I would want that pressure. I’m continually grateful that I made the choices that I did and that my day job, teaching, provides me with an income.  That I can create and support my art without having to make more money.

B: Me too. You know the moments when I entered that kind of arena, it really took the fun out of making for me. There, of course, were parts of professional music making which were fun. But for the most part it was just work. 

Now, I never tried to support a family by performing. That seemed to be way too precarious for me. The hustle of getting gigs was way too much for me. When I was playing music professionally, there was very little creativity. In fact, the more creativity I tried to bring into the professional music arena the more pushback I got to not be creative.

L: Really?

B: You think about wedding bands. Musicians need to play the pieces, the sets, the same way every time, or your bandmates won’t be able to follow you. Or if you’re playing in a pit orchestra. There is absolutely no room for any creative choice there. You’re a machine. You are a tool. I wasn’t playing for me.  

I do admire people who are trying to make a living as professional musicians. I admire their stamina, pushing themselves and their art. I think it’s impossible to do without A LOT of luck, a lot of good fortune.

L: I totally agree. I think there are so many talented artists. If you took 100 people, 89 of them would be equally talented.

B: Maybe even more than that.

L: I mean, just the fact that they’ve produced something to share with the world is something to celebrate.

B: I think the most successful people are almost never the most talented or even have the best song. It’s just that they were in the right place at the right time. Now, that being said, you do need to put yourself in that space or position to be seen and to be heard. You need to do the work to be noticed. Whether it is an online presence or open mikes or just getting your art out into the world. It is a mixture of talent and a LOT of luck for the very few that make a career with their art

L: So true.

B: Without somebody taking a chance on you and your art and you seizing upon the chance and opportunity, you have to be a risk-taker as well. Not an easy road to try and make a career out of art, any art.

L: Like when I started my hands-on- art studio about 10 years ago, I really wanted to make that my paying gig. I wanted to ditch teaching (I was teaching third grade at the time) and have the studio support me and give my community a place to create. 

Well, it gave the community a place to create, but it never made enough money. I never paid myself. I didn’t get to quit my day job. And it was a hell of a lot of work. It was fun and I enjoyed being at the studio. But as they say on “Shark Tank” – you can’t run a business on the side when you are working somewhere else full time!

I do believe that experience proved to my principal and the powers that be at the District office that I was qualified to end my public school teaching career as an art teacher instead of a classroom teacher. So, I guess in that sense following that dream did help me to ultimately get a job where I create all day. And most importantly I met you Duz, and the ARTs dept. was formed. 

Most creative gurus would say or tell you, “Don’t count on your art for your livelihood.” Create because it’s who you are and makes you a better person. Don’t count on it for financial support. Have a day job.

B: I am just musing here, because I have never had to support my family with just my music. I think I would start to think maybe my art “sucked” if I wasn’t getting gigs or if nobody was listening or watching. I think I would quit fast.  I am way too sensitive. I know if I started down the road and got nothing back, that would be really hard. It would take a lot of the enjoyment of music out of the equation. Luckily, I found a career that allows me to play and share music a good portion of the day. It is a good job/career path for me.

L: And, you’re shaping young minds.

B: Yeah, that’s what they keep saying.

L: You are opening hearts to the wonder that is music!

B: Uh-hmm. You betcha.

L: Let’s see, what other platitudes can I place on our teaching careers?!

L and B: (both laughing)

L: Okay, let’s wrap up the conversation regarding “motivations in the middle.” Is there anything else that pushes you through the challenging middle of a creation?

B: Yeah, one more thing. I often get these strong feelings that I have to create something. That can happen in the beginning, middle or end of a project. When these creative urges nudge me I have to somehow channel it somewhere. The weird thing is that if I’m not around an instrument when a creative urge strikes, it will go away, just disappear. I have a hard time rekindling that fire. I just have to be ready when the creative muses appear. If I’m lucky and all the stars align, I don’t have a class of children (students) in front of me, or my own children or wife don’t need me at that particular moment, any number of scenarios in my “real life” – then creating itself motivates me to move forward with my music.

L: I almost feel like it, “IT” being creativity, is a ‘gift from the universe.’ If you don’t follow through with what you are sent, you aren’t going to be gifted sparks or urges in the future!

B: I don’t know about that. But I do know, I am glad when I follow those intuitions/urges of creating.

L: Is it always with an instrument?

B: As opposed to what, writing?

L: Yeah.

B: Oh yeah, always with a musical instrument. Now it may be chasing a lyric. But those lyrics are always connected to a melody. It is driven by an instrument, for sure. I have always wanted to be a great lyricist. But I’m not secure in my singing right now. Someday, maybe. I went through a period where I was really trying. I bought creative-writing books, and forced myself to do exercises and wrote poetry. Writing, is something I have always struggled with, do struggle with. Eventually, I stopped trying.

L: I think writing is one of those art forms which most writers are never satisfied with. I never, thought of myself as a writer until a few years ago in my mid-50s. In reality, I’ve been writing and using my writing to pursue artistic adventures for a good portion of my adult life.

B: It’s funny that you never considered yourself a writer, because the whole time I’ve known you, these past 8 years, I would have definitely called you a writer.

L: That is interesting, the difference between how we see ourselves and how others view us. This leads me into another topic, which I think is crucial to my art-making: Cross-pollination.

B: Huh?

L: By cross-pollination, I mean when you try different creative outlets other than your main form of expression, like music for you. Do you think that influences your creativity in your main focus?

B: Oh, right yeah, I guess. I never really thought about that.

L: Like all the little sketches you do from time to time. And the origami swans you create at staff meetings. Do you think any of that leads you anywhere in your music?

B: Yes and no. I love learning new things. I am always pushing myself to learn new skills.

L: The Rubic’s Cube doesn’t count. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Duz went through an obsessive Rubic’s Cube phase during the pandemic. He had a cube in his hand at work for about three months.

B: Sure it does. Learning a new thing, ultimately, helps all areas of your life. All you’re doing is making your brain do something you haven’t done before.

L: (laughing) I am kidding about the Rubic’s Cube

B: Yeah. Kinda.

L: (laughing harder)

B: Getting back to learning new things. I’ll learn a new card trick for my kids. N. LOVES it. She thinks it is incredible.

L: Enjoy that, my friend. You are entering the golden age of parenting, when your kids are between the ages of seven and about 12, where your kids love you. They pretty much listen to you because you’re still their “God.” And there are no diaper bags to carry, and they can eat whatever is on the menu. 

B: I know. You keep telling me that. Back to the card trick. The more I practice and get better at the trick, the better I feel like it is for my brain. I’m not sure I can say, “Oh, I am getting better at a sleight of hand tricks, and this will make me a better lyricist.” I don’t know that that is happening. But I do think I’m making bridges in my brain. 

I think reading serves the same purpose. Putting yourself into different places and situations. Even if it’s just reading about them, I believe, makes me a more empathetic human, which can only help me in my lyric-writing. Forcing yourself to do something new creates new neural pathways in your brain. The new thing could be wide and varied: origami, building a picture frame, fixing the washing machine-so the annoying noise stops when you use it.

L: Wait, you don’t just call someone to fix your washing machine. Or go buy a new one?!

B: No Boomer, I don’t! 

L: (laughing) What is interesting to me is that throughout my years, I have switched what that new learning thing is. For most of my life the new things were under the umbrella of the fiber arts; sewing, creating clothes and costumes for my kids, quilting, knitting,.. Yet, this whole writing thing, which creates words is not a tangible thing. The writing is all in my head. Which is very different than anything I have created in the past.

In thinking about “cross-pollination,” I think dabbling in other art-forms does help the art you are focusing on. Even if it is to just give your brain a break from the “middle” or stumbling blocks of what you are working on.

B: The writing thing is new for you, but you have been doing it for as long as I’ve known you 

L: That’s true. I started writing, seriously, when my dad died in the fall of 2018. I was 54.

B: For all of our relationship, you’ve always been a writer. In your life, it feels new to you. Like I’ve always been a dad since you and I started working together. 

L: I never thought about that.

B: Which is only one aspect that I see of myself. The majority of my life I haven’t been a dad.

L: So interesting to think like that. I have been a mom for 38 years which IS the majority of my life. Now, when I’m entering my third act; retirement and beyond, I feel like I have to redefine myself. Obviously, my grown children of 37, 35 and 32, don’t need me like your kids need you. Come June 2025, I won’t have teaching to fall back on to answer the cocktail-party question, “What do you do?” So honestly, it kinda freaks me out. How do I define myself moving forward if I don’t have a career to ground me.

B: I am not worried in the least about you in retirement. You have so many interests you are going to be just fine.

L: Well, we have one more year teaching together to get a lot done artistically, so “BUCKLE UP my friend!”

B: Getting back to the bigger picture of how we define ourselves. It reminds me of that idea of SONDER; I’m the main character in my own life, but I am secondary, incidental or even in the background of many other lives.

L: Oh, we need to deep-dive into that. I’m thinking that could be part of the ARTs dept.’s third album.

B: (laughing) You never stop do you?

L: I know. I am a crazy-ass.

B: Crazy-ass in only a good way!

L: Let’s get back to the middle. I have a followup question to our money conversation. Are you ever deterred from putting art out into the world when you know, or at least are pretty sure, you won’t be compensated?

B: I am not driven by, “ART has to = MONEY.” But again, I’ve put myself in a position where I don’t have to think that way. Money is not a driving factor when it comes to my making music. In fact, I have purposely said yes to projects that I know will not bring any money to my pocket solely for the potential story I’ll have after the experience. Which is a luxury, I know. I like playing music. I like being creative. Taking the money part out of it also takes off some of the pressure of creating. If someone is paying you, there are usually parameters on the request. Rarely does someone say, “Here’s a pile of money. Go create whatever you want.”

L: What I’m hearing you say is that money ties you to an expectation.

B: Right. I think even the most successful artists did what they wanted to in the beginning. People liked what they were doing. Then they started getting paid for their work.

L: Seems to me like you’re describing the patron system back in the Renaissance era of humankind.

B: Patrons, rarely appear in our world today.

L: I totally agree. Turning to another observation on creativity and the human condition. I do believe that everyone is creative, creativity shows-up differently for different people. While I’ve been in this elementary school art teaching gig, I’ve been super surprised to find that the inner critic shows up in kids at about age seven. 

I’ve noticed that from kindergarten till about second graders, kids whole heartedly explore all sorts of creative endeavors. I can throw all sorts of projects at them, and they respond with such interesting, uninhibited art. Until about age seven, they seem to be malleable little blobs of clay who are fearless in their art responses. Then the inner critic enters, and I lose kids to, “I can’t do that.” “Mine is not good.” “Only So and So can draw, paint,…” I was shocked that it started so young.

B: I see the same thing in music class. It’s almost like the old Adam and Eve story. The realize they are naked when they explore new things, and they better cover-up. It’s almost a social anxiety. Not wanting to stick out.

Occasionally, as a teacher, I will come across a kid who just doesn’t care how their experiences look to others. Those are the unicorns. Often, they aren’t the most socially accepted kids

L: It’s also interesting to me when adults say things like, “Oh, I’m not creative. I can’t draw, paint, sing, fill in the creative blank.” And I think, and often ask, “When is the last time you actually tried, to do anything like that?” I point out that if you don’t practice something, you’ll never be good at the something. This usually stops them because often they’ll admit they have not taken an art class since grade school, if ever!

B: Right, exactly. If you are not even in a place where you want to try, then yeah, you are definitely not going to be able to draw, or sing, or dance etc. 

L: I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to try new things. And you certainly try new things. Is that just our personalities, or mindsets? Are we the outliers? Or is it the human condition to create, like you suggest?

B: Getting back to the broken washing machine dilemma. I want to get into the guts of my washing machine when it breaks down. I instinctively want to take it apart. I know I’ll learn something new and hopefully, solve the problem.

L: (laughing) Right. In that situation, I’m thinking, “Who can I call to get the washing machine fixed?” OR even better, “Who is my husband going to call to get the washing machine fixed?!”

At least you try and are willing to fail.

I wonder how tap dancing is going to go for me. That Is the next adventure I would like to try.

B: (laughing) I have absolutely no interest in learning to dance, which I know you and many people are interested in. Which is just an example of how important it is to understand and empathize with people who have different creative interests and pursuits. I try to appreciate this. It’s a reminder to enjoy and celebrate diversity. 

L: Can I please interrupt this bit of wisdom and point out to you that from about Dec 28^th till March 18^th each year, you and your entire family are all about creating living-room Irish dance shows.

B: Yeah, yeah, okay.

L: Which, I will point out, is a form of dance.

B: I wouldn’t say I’m passionate about learning Irish dance, but I do enjoy dancing a jig with my children.

L: I’m going to go a step further, every pun intended, and say that the Irish jig is a form of tap dancing!

B: We don’t create dances that are founded in any sort of technique. We do, though, have fun.

L and B: (both laughing)

L: One last question. Let’s see, where are my notes? Here we go: “Price tag, talent, time.” 

Oh, I now remember what this is referring to. It actually isn’t a question, or even a sentence.

Let me back-up and give the backstory to that thought.

Often times, I’ll bring something I’ve created a sweater, a knit animal, some sort of doodad into a local store to buy a little something that would go with my creation. The store clerks will kindly comment about the thing I’ve created and suggest, “You should sell this. Have you ever thought of an Etsy space, or selling this here?” I usually laugh and say something like, “Oh thanks that is so kind of you. I like to keep the things I make for the special people in my life.” When really, I’m thinking to myself, “There is no way I could sell this thing. It took me, like, 100 hours to make. No one would ever pay me for that kind of time. Not to mention the materials cost.”  

B: What I think they really mean is, “I would buy that!”

L: But they wouldn’t. It would be too expensive, unless I choose to charge about 5 cents an hour for my time. 

B: Well, maybe, if they really wanted to…Clearly, it’s an off the cuff remark, without thinking about how insane it would be to try and sell your hand-created object.

L: Here’s, sort of the question I have been trying to formulate, Why is the creative process not valued? Any creative process is so time intensive and the materials are usually an expense. I’m amazed when people seem to have no sense of the time, energy, knowledge and expense it takes to create.

B: I think it goes back to the fact that so many people aren’t engaging in creative pursuits. They are not thinking about a) how much time creatives are putting into that particular art piece and b) they are most certainly not thinking about the time it took to perfect the craft.

L: I guess that is the inherit crux of creating. If someone doesn’t have an experience with an art form, they just aren’t going to be able to understand how difficult the art form is. 

I took a ceramics class in college. Damn, creating anything on the wheel was near impossible for me. And I spent an entire semester trying to make a usable bowl. I failed miserably. Never could get anything but a wonky cup created on the wheel.

B: All true. 

L: This conversation gets me thinking about AI.

B: Oh, boy. That’s a much bigger conversation.

L: Yes, I know. Do you think AI is affecting music production? The visual and graphic artists, and even advertising copy writers I know are nervous about the movement.

B: Photographers and videographers, I think, are worried. AI has already proven problematic for those groups.

L: Why do you think it hasn’t touched the music industry? 

B: The last I heard was that AI has not successfully created interesting new music. I’m sure they, whoever they maybe, are working on it. Now, I have to say, if I found beautiful music that was computer generated, I don’t think I would have a problem with that. I don’t feel like I would have a problem with how any specific something was created. I don’t think I would think it less beautiful because it was created by a computer. However, what I think is beautiful about music is that it’s steeped in humanity. If a computer can replicate that – I don’t know, that seems crazy.

What I’ve seen AI be really good at is re-creating something that already exists.

L: Oh, like a landscaping painting in the style of a specific artist. 

B: Right. Those are interesting. But creating something new and original – not in imitation of, doesn’t really interest me. I think that’s in part why I don’t like ‘80s’ music. It lacks humanity.

L: You should know, dear listeners, that Billy V. and I have an ongoing argument about the ‘80s. He finds nothing redeemable about my high school and college music.

I know, the ‘80s is when electronic music became popular, and that is definitely not your scene.

B: Yeah, there are Lionel Richie songs where it is essentially AI. I do need to correct that statement, because humans are directing the different electronic instruments: the songs are all artificially made songs with him singing over the electronics. Every single sound, except for his voice, is made by a computer. 

If AI could create a song which spoke to the humanity of music, the emotionality of music, then I could get behind that. However, I think we have crossed the “Jetson’s” line with everything else in our world. Can’t we leave music alone?

L: Maybe AI is just a little too scary for us to think about right now. I believe there is still the human quality of art which AI cannot yet touch.

B: This does bring our conversation full circle, because who is making money right now in the arts? Very few individual artists. 

L: Oh damn, look at the time! We need to say goodbye for now. Our third grade classes are coming momentarily.

B: Thank you, again, Pfizer for your generous sponsorship.

L: (aughing) I like BetterHealth-better.

B: Isn’t that a scam? Aren’t they a horrible, fake corporation?

L: BetterHealth I was just making that up. Is that a real company?

B and L: (both laughing)

L: Until next time.