jsantos wrote:The Artist
The Musician
We want our music to live on after we're gone. We want someone, after we die, to send one of our CDs off into deep space so some alien can find it in a million years and say "them earthlings wrote the most glorious music in the galaxy."
In a very real sense, life got a lot better for me when I realized that:
1) By the definitions described here I don't want to and never did want to be an artist.
2) I don't and never did care about my music living on.
First of all, I disagree with the nomenclature. The distinction I would make would be between the songwriter and the performer. Songwriters are important, but they are no more important than performers.
A good performer is an artist every bit as much as a good songwriter is. A bad songwriter is no more an artist than a bad performer.
The difference, really, is that a performer's art is ephemeral. Every performance is art. Capturing that in a recording can, sometimes, be worthwhile. But each performance is it's own work of art. And, no, it will not be kept for posterity. Once it's over, it's gone. Its impermanence is part of its value.
For me, being a performer - a good performer - is my art. I'm not a songwriter, never was, never will be. But I can be creative in my performances because I am an artist. Because I see performance itself as an art. The song is my canvas, my instrument is my palette and brush. The art is there for those who are present to enjoy it. When I'm done it dissolves away into memory, wiping clean the canvas, preparing for the next performance.
That's what's important to me as an artist.
The next performance.
You don't work music, you play it.
Discipline is not the enemy of fun.
Discipline is not the enemy of fun.