I completed my first “song a day” project back in November of 2010 right here on this very blog.

I came up with the idea because I was taking a year-long vocal improv class and wanted to practice my solo singing/inventing. As I said at the time, I wanted to interact with my blog readers as a singer, document and observe my art at the midpoint of the class and to “learn something.” *smile*

I repeated the project (but didn’t share it on my blog) in February of 2017 as I was working on my album. A couple of the ideas were seeds for songs on the album (see “Awake” and “Maybe“)

Then I traveled to Wisconsin last month for a week-long self-supervised music retreat. I worked a lot with my loop station and improvised 3-minute solos most of the nights I was there. (The acoustics on the porch were delicious.) I began thinking about recording and sharing another 30 day project.

At the same time, a guitar player friend of mine posted an improvisation and suggested that he might keep doing them for a while.

(I, of course, suggested 30 days. *smile*)

…

As usual, I had trouble getting started.

I worried about if and how to introduce the project, how much to plan the project, and the best way(s) to share the project.

Then I remembered one of the things I know from improvising … start moving.

(In fact, in most of the “songs” below I start singing moments after I press the record button. I open my mouth and start making sound, shaping and finding direction as I go.)

I decided to take the same approach to these 30 days.

On Monday, I pulled the trigger and posted my first three minute song to Instagram with a short intro:

My November project. The goal? 3 minutes, 2 takes, 1 daily, 0 edits.

Working with the format I developed in November 2010, each day I record a 3-minute improvised song. I can record as many as I like (reminding myself of this 😉), but I only get 2 takes of any given idea. Finally, I post (at least) one of the videos every day this month.

The video above is a peak at the first week.

You can watch each song in its entirety on my Facebook music page (you don’t need a FB account to access) or on IGTV and follow me at one of those places to watch the project unfold.

If you have spent time here then you know that I pick what I call a “keyword” at the start of the year. If you are new here (welcome!), my annual keywords connect to other words and stand in for resolutions or goals.

I usually start thinking about my keyword for the upcoming year in December and then some time in January, I make my final selection and announce it in the 2nd or 3rd week of the new year.

Or in February. 🤷🏽‍♀️ While I feel some guilt for “missing” my annual deadline, I chose to wait for the capacity and energy to find a word that truly fit (and the time to write about and share it *smile*).

…

As we ALL know, 2020 was a different kind of year. For me, it meant moving my teaching and music making online. I was (am) simultaneously grateful for and exhausted by this shift. Grateful that I was (am) able to continue doing the work I am called to do and exhausted by the research, testing and technology being online ALL OF THE TIME requires.

So part of the time I took in writing this blog post was tech fatigue and general fatigue, but I must also admit a reluctance / resistance to taking on the task of reviewing 2020 and last year’s keyword.

…

My keyword for 2020 was VISIBLE.

Yeah.

It’s hard not to read anything into choosing to “put myself out there” in a year when we were all being advised to stay in. (What’s that saying? We make plans and the gods laugh? Anyhoo …)

I selected VISIBLE in January of 2020, because I was coming off a year of increasing my artistic profile. Venues and projects were beginning to seek me out and I was part of collaborations in projects and with people about which I was excited. I was doing some traveling within the state and getting to talk about improvising and music making to students at schools beside the one at which I teach. I was leading monthly circle singing gatherings around the cities and taking part in a monthly gathering of Black improvisers. I wanted to maintain this momentum and reach even more people in more places.

I wanted to show up. More important, I wanted to be seen.

Fast forward a couple of months and it was clear that singing and performing were going to change in ways we could not yet imagine. So much for being visible.

I licked my wounds for a while and then scheduled my first online workshop in May. Working with the tech was clunky, but the connection between the singers was real. I began attending online singing events, learning what I liked (and didn’t). In June, mere weeks after the murder of George Floyd, I hosted the first online Songtaneous. Again, I felt that musical connection. Equally important, I was able to include folks from the Twin Cities, Madison and St Louis in the session.

I began to understand that I could be VISIBLE in way I hadn’t considered. Thanks(?) to the pandemic, I am meeting and learning from song carriers around the world. My song circles now regularly include out of state singers. I reconnected with a group of Black and brown friends from my undergrad days around George Floyd’s murder and the Minneapolis uprisings. I sang to and with my neighbors and friends from my front yard over the summer. This past weekend, I co-facilitated on online singing ceremony (Air Prayers) which reached singers around the world.

VISIBLE also became tied to speaking up. I began sharing more of what I thought about singing, music making, and current events online and in my music selections.

2020 also increased the visibility of my racial labor.

The demand to respond to requests for my ideas and inputs, my networks and my integrating presence flooded in after the murder of George Floyd. With the uptick, the amount of racial labor I regularly complete with little thought (and no compensation) became evident. I started stepping away from these requests and situations. I began asking my white friends and colleagues to do their part of the work and have uncomfortable, difficult conversations about race on my behalf.

…

So here we are (at last) in 2021.

My keyword for 2021 is CULTIVATE

cultivate (v) — to promote or improve the growth of (a plant, crop, etc.) by labor and attention; to develop or improve by education or training; train; refine; to promote the growth or development of (an art, science, etc.); foster; to prepare and work on (land) in order to raise crops; till.

The labor and attention elements of the definitions above really resonated for me.

The past pandemic year and the shifts in how and where I have been able to work/play have me thinking about labor. Especially, the labor we value. What (and who) we consider essential? Who is compensated well and for what kinds of labor? How lucky I was/am to already have experience in variable resource flow and supervising my self. How sad I find it that we will give resources to companies before we will give them to people. How little the economy has to do with the lived experience of so many people, especially Black and brown people. And, how we want/expect/require people to prove that they are valuable rather than assuming that each of is intrinsically.

The pandemic has further cemented the value of the arts for me. I would have struggled much more without the input and output of creative people during this time. I am beyond grateful for the songs, books, movies, paintings, videos, etc. I have imbibed in the past year.

As we move into our second year of the Covid pandemic, it is clear that how and where and when I “work” will continue to evolve. I chose CULTIVATE, because I know I will need to put energy into creating resources and resource flow for my collaborators and me. I will also continue to refine the ways in which I create and share my music.

A final reason to choose CULTIVATE. I am inspired by the work of a circle of friends, mostly women of color, to grow and distribute food this past summer and want to put more thought and labor toward food and food security.

I hope you are staying well and finding calm during this tumultuous time. A singer friend of mine asked me if I was blogging right now.

To be honest? Nope, not for a while.

And I’ve been should-ing on myself about it (and many other things).

Then I realized that this cycle of struggling to start, experiencing large shifts in my energy and ability to focus, and holding a vague sense of guilt about it all was/is familiar. I’ve experienced all of these feelings before in my life as a self-employed vocal musician.

Luckily(?), I have over a decade of practice being self-supervised* as my sister calls it. I’ve had to create schedule and structure to my work life before, I’ve worried about having too little work before, and I’ve wondered how I will pay my bills before. And I have built schedule, found (or created) work and paid my bills before. So while the consequences of this pandemic sometimes take those worries to a new level, they are at least (in some ways) familiar.

In fact, I have already written about a lot of those feelings here.

So, in lieu of finding the energy, focus and head space to write thoughtful, introspective new posts, I am going to point you to some posts of the past. I hope something here is useful, inspiring (or at least entertaining or distracting *smile*) for you.

• Sarah, Meet Stuck
• Thinking Up a Plan
• The Best Medicine (I obviously added the Melanie DeMore song above.)

Be well and keep singing.

P.S. *My sister coined the phrase self-supervised in the early years of her doctoral work.