Creative in Quarantine

Every day, I find myself logging onto social media more often than not. I tend to lose track of time lately and I’m kinda sorta keeping track of what day it is—mostly. It appears every day, though, I see more and more creativity coming out of this quarantine. I’ve had articles and videos and ideas sent to me and I’ve laughed at them and loved them. And then I’ve turned to myself and thought, “Where are yours? Why aren’t you singing covers or rewriting songs that tell of our current way of life? Now’s the time to bring the TP selfies out of the airplane lavatory! (Well maybe not…with the shortage and all). But you’re a creative person. Why aren’t you creating!?” 

It’s so easy to fall into this idea that identity is found in what we do. It’s easy to believe you’ve fallen short of not only the expectations of others, but your own as well, if you haven’t done something with this “extra” time that you’ve been given. The truth is, though, that maybe it’s okay if you haven’t been your best self during this time. Maybe it’s something you’d like to change. Or maybe you get up every day and that’s enough for some at the moment. This is a strange time we’re living through and you don’t necessarily have to push yourself to the limit if what you really need is to use this time to actually rest. 

For those who are making videos, writing more, working out, sharing stories—KEEP DOING IT (if it’s making you happy) because it’s certainly bringing smiles to our homes! Thank you for what you’re doing. Thank you to those who are using this time to sit down and plan any dreams they let sit on the back burner. Thank you to those who are making it through the day even when dealing with uncertainty and frustration and anxiety. You matter. Thank you to those who are using their time to catch up on their favorite movies or video chat with people who they don’t talk to often enough. Thank you to those who are using their time to make our lives more convenient and safe as they go to work in hospitals and grocery stores and for delivery apps. Thank you to those who are dancing, singing, writing, running, cleaning, and social distancing. 

You’re still creative if you’re not creating right this minute. You're awesome. For those who are, you’re awesome, too.

I hope to join you soon :) 

What Am I Doing in Nashville? And other thoughts.

*Written late. Without edits. With a glass of wine. Forgive the run-ons.

It’s funny, the thought of not yet having made it – whatever that means. Or even this feeling of never being able to do so.

I walked into my apartment tonight, delighted to have been a part of a reading for a friend’s play. It was a lovely way to spend the evening and gave me some inspiration I had been searching for lately.

There is still so much left to do, but I look around and think to myself, “Wow. I’m actually accomplishing things I had said I would when I first made the decision to move out here.” In the moments when I feel small or as though I am a disappointment to those who had the highest hopes for me, I remember that I’m still going and that is saying something. It may not be in the capacity I expected it to be in, but nevertheless, I’m living the life I set out to live. And I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

In high school, I remember watching Legally Blonde: The Musical and dreaming of being in that show one day. Originally, I wanted to play Elle. As I got older and learned my strengths through multiple experiences, I found that I wanted to fill the role of Paulette. I did just that in June of last year with an amazing cast and crew. The timing was perfect – I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

I wanted to put music out that would reach people and connect on new levels. I found fans in new cities. I found writing partners and friends through conferences. I met people who have been in the industry for years who gave me solid advice on the next chapters of my story. I thought I would do that solely with the EP I released, but found that it went even further. I wrote personalized songs for a company called “Songs of Love” for a time that catered to children with illnesses. I received feedback that made me tear up and smile at the same time.

           I’ve headlined a county fair. It was mid-summer hot, humid, and nerve-wrecking. Honestly, not my strongest performance vocally. But it was Snapchatted by some local teens as they swayed to my tunes…so…there’s that! I was a paid actor in the regional premiere of “Mamma Mia” and got to work with kind, talented, and overall admirable people.

I’ve had incredible new experiences and deep hurts and I have loved hard and laughed even harder. And at the other end of the spectrum, I have met a man who wants to spend his life with me and I with him.

I don’t list all of these things for bragging’s sake. I say this because I hope to encourage anyone who may feel the same. For the better part of 3 years living in Nashville, I thought I was stuck. I thought I was falling behind, even. I thought I was failing. But maybe not.

It’s a little different than I imagined it to be…but maybe that’s a good thing. Keep going. We have one precious life. Live it up.

It's Been a While

I remember when and why I started this blog. It was because I had so many ideas floating in my head, but never really went out of my way to make them a reality. At the time, I was challenged by a wise friend and teacher to start with the little things. If I wanted to walk down to the coffee shop and journal, I would do it. If I wanted to pay a compliment to the person in front of me, I would do it. The thoughts became actions and the little movements ended up with a journey to another city in another state far from everything that I loved. You see, I was not unhappy with my life in California. I had some of the best friends a girl could ask for. I had a home and an incredibly supportive family. I was able to figure things out along the way. I had time. Los Angeles was my comfort zone.

And I left.

The last 3 ½ years have proven to be challenging and heartbreaking and beautiful and in many ways, uncertain. They have not been without tears. They have not been without joy. But that’s life – ever turning. The years here have brought me new songs to sing, new stories to tell, a newfound independence, and even a fiancé with whom those songs now have new meaning.

Still…the ideas from years ago have reverted to floating around once more. I’ve mentioned them now and again to those around me. I say that I will do something, but then I get distracted. Then, I make excuses. Then, time passes and the I'll know the dreams are beautiful, but nothing more than dreams.

I no longer want this to be the case. I want to be held accountable for what I say that I want 2018. These are my intentions: I intend to start my theater company. I intend to release new music. I intend to use what I am given to help those around me who are in need. I intend to be present. And I intend to release myself from the gnawing fear of failure through it all. I intend to do what I came here to do. I followed dreams all the way to Nashville. It’s time to wake up.

Worth the Weight

Facebook has notified me that I’ve been tagged in an album. A wedding album, specifically. I flip through the pictures of that gorgeous happy day, on which I got to watch two very dear friends of mine pledge their love and lives to one another. Then, I get to a photo of me – taken from the side, and I look past the smile on my face (mid-song) and the joy around me. Instead, all I can see are indentations in my legs under that tight blue dress. I see ruching that only somewhat covers a more prominent tummy and arms that are less defined than they were before. I begin to revert to a former way of thinking – the self-conscious girl who has battled weight and self-esteem her entire life threatens to come forward and snatch up any happy memory of that weekend. A year ago, I would have untagged that picture, but today, I allow it to grace my timeline.

You see, I’ve spent the majority of my life worried about my weight. (This post is the short version – I’d be happy to discuss the rest of it with any of you over a lovely cup of coffee. It’s quite a tale.) I was a chubby one all through grade school and my waistline only increased as I made my way through high school. I remember auditioning for “Thoroughly Modern Millie” during my junior year fearing that regardless of my hard work, I would not get cast. I didn’t look like a thin, modern, flapper type straight out of the 1920’s. I am eternally grateful that the directors did not see the world my way, because that show was one of the highlights of my teenage years and gave me a newfound confidence to chase after my musical theater dreams.  College was another story. I was indirectly told by some that my chances of getting in would be greater if I put down the cookie, so to speak. I made friends with rejection that year, opening “We’re sorry” letters from 9 out of the 11 colleges to which I had applied. Still, I held my chin up and decided to do something about it in the first year.  

Since my freshman year of college, I have lost and gained 40 pounds twice. I’ve noticed that there seems to be a pattern. I lose it, keep it off for a while, experience some kind of transition or heartbreak (or both), and then gain it back. Whenever I’d have gained, I would get angry and feel bitter toward myself. How could I let this happen again? Fast forward once more. By the time I went back for my senior year of college, I was, again, 40 pounds lighter and curvy in all the right places. And STILL, I did not feel good enough. I was working toward being smaller, not stronger, thinking that happiness was only another 20 pounds away. Whenever I looked in the mirror, I saw imperfection. I saw cellulite. I saw myself “not working hard enough”.  If people said that I looked great, I’d smile and say thank you, but would silently think that I could do more. If I indulged, I would feel guilty and punish myself by filling my head with lies I had told myself over and over again. It began to take hold of me in more ways than one. The odd thing was that I was still a physically healthy human being.

It wasn’t until recently that I began to face insecurity (or punch it in the face, rather) and embrace who I was as a person. After going through another somewhat stressful transition, I started to gain again. On top of this, I was put on a medication upon arriving in TN that had the negative side effect of weight gain as well, so even though I was going to the gym and watching my food intake, I still could not make the numbers go down. However, when the wedding came along, I made the decision to take it in stride. And I found that no one commented on my dress except to say that the blue was a lovely complement to my eyes. No one gave me a sideways glance for having a piece of the cake that evening. No one asked me to step away from being in the wedding pictures. Because no one else was paying attention to that stuff. The newlyweds enjoyed the song we prepared for them. We tore up the dance floor. We laughed and talked about life’s plans for us in the coming months. And that was all.

So when I returned, I looked in the mirror and complimented myself for the first time in a long time. This was what I looked like today – fearfully and wonderfully made. 

I have since become more active and have been putting better fuel into my body for the sole purpose of feeling my best. But this time, I am in a much kinder headspace. The obsession is no longer at the forefront of my mind. I am much more interested in being a good person and being nice to myself at any size, age, etc. Because why would I tell someone that they needn’t change a thing while I’m tearing myself apart in my own bathroom mirror? Here’s what I know: I am soft. I enjoy good food. I have a major sweet tooth. I like leggings and oversized sweaters, and I will probably never be able to wear a crop top or pull off the runway like the VS Angels do. But you better believe that I am strong. And I’ll rock a floor-length, curve-hugging red dress on Valentine’s Day. I’ll own a coffee-shop stage in cowboy boots and dark-wash jeans. You will see what I want you to see. And that is that I am me and that’s enough.

Remember When I Played Softball?

I spent a lot of my day reminiscing. I had left my apartment in my old softball jersey and as I drove over roads that are slowly becoming more familiar to me, I began to think back on the previous summer. Let me say, for the record, that I am not athletic. In fact, I was the odd player who could throw, but instead, did pirouettes in the outfield. Even so, it was one of my favorite things about last season. On a warm evening in July, our team was not doing so well. We were losing, as we did most weeks, despite our best effort. (The dancing was probably not helpful on my part, I’ll confess). I should explain that this is not an underdog, comeback in the last 2 minutes kind of story, but rather a story about moments.

So back to the evening: We were approaching the final innings and it didn’t look as though we’d be coming back from our lower score. I could see the frustration in some of my teammates; I could see the apathy in others. And I could see the blend of both in my own attitude. Our loyal fan club had shown up every week in hopes that something incredible would happen on that field. (Or that they’d be entertained in some way). Side note: I truly believe we delivered one way or another every week. One time, I threw a bat without meaning to and almost took out the other team’s catcher.  I earned the nickname of "Dexter" on that one. Another time, one of our players screamed in victory as he ran toward first base only to be asked to sit on the bench for being a distraction.  Good times…

But I digress from what happened on this particular night. A batter for the other team swung and sent the softball soaring into the outfield. I’ll be honest. I just stood up straight, placed my hands on my hips, and thought, “Well, there’s the game.” It was then that I looked out at my good friend, Christine, with her arm in the air. We all held our breath and watched as the softball landed right in the palm of her hand…well, glove! She had a look of shock, excitement, and absolute joy on her face as she showed us her victorious catch. It was the last out and though it was our turn at bat, all of us were running away from the dugout and toward our MVP instead. She was picked up and spun around as we laughed and shouted, “Did you see that?!”  Our whole team cheered and chanted as though we had just been informed that we'd taken first place in the league.

Now that I’ve given you the exposition of the event, let me get to the point of this entry. In that moment, no one noticed that we had the least amount of runs that night. No one cared that we were going to lose. When we would eventually make it to the bar after the game, we wouldn’t be drowning in our defeat, but toasting to an amazing catch! I’m definitely an advocate for looking at the big picture when it comes to wandering through this life. But it’s times like these that I remember that it is just as important to focus on and find joy in the small moments and to let that joy overtake any hurt, frustration, and anger. Because what mattered most that night was not the score, but the love for a friend in a moment of triumph. I am thankful for nights and moments such as these. I look forward to many more :) 

Getting Into It

Sometimes when I start a book, it takes me a couple of chapters to really get into the story. There’s often a lot of exposition, which is important, but can be tedious and a little more time-consuming than I feel is necessary. However, these stories are usually my favorite to reread so that I can see how all of the puzzle pieces presented in those first chapters come together at the end of the novel. This is how I’ve been viewing Nashville so far. I’ve been here for a little over a month and a part of me feels as though I haven’t accomplished what I should have accomplished by now. After all, when I completed that month in NY, I'd had dance, vocal, and acting training paired with an Off-Off Broadway 15-minute musical role to show for it. At the end of those 4 weeks, I felt unstoppable! At the end of this month, I feel exhausted. (And I have yet to cross paths with the other HH)

Please note that this entry is not an outlet for me to complain about the less than ideal situations I have found myself in thus far, but rather a page to comment on the idea of expectations. You see, when I visited back in May, everything was perfect. I had meetings with people in the music industry and high hopes that this was where I was meant to be. I am not saying that it isn’t anymore (I still firmly believe that I am in TN for a reason), but I thought that the transition would be seemingly effortless. After all, I had lived elsewhere before. I had traveled, made friends, adapted well in the past – why would this be different? I had successfully written and recorded music. I had a website! People came to my coffee shop performances in LA those two times! Why wouldn’t everything fall into place here? What a skewed view we often have – we expect immediate results in a world that demands instant gratification. So much so, that we have forgotten what it’s like to wait. To sit. To trust.

I arrived in the city after a week-long road trip with my fantastic mom who drove Indy the majority of the way.  Meanwhile, my wonderful dad was keeping up the shares and likes for my music on Facebook and taking care of my precious pup while I was away. I was ready, excited, and nervous, but confident in the road ahead. I did not expect to have difficulty finding an apartment, job, and connections within the first couple of weeks. (Ha ha ha) That’s another thing I’m learning about myself – I’m allowed to tell others that there is no rush – that timing is everything and they’ve done so much already and should be proud! I comfort my friends with words of inspiration, but leave an empty snap cup for myself. I put way more pressure on myself than I need to. (It’s been a month. Why hasn’t Lady A heard “Dance Another” yet? Quit slacking, girl!) ☺

In an effort to help me learn to slow down a little, hiccups starting popping up everywhere. I was bitten by something in the first two weeks and have been a walking medical mystery ever since. Instead of Writers’ Nights, I was attending medical clinics for possible sinus infections, mono, tick-borne illnesses, etc. etc. In addition to this, my car broke down 3 different times and suddenly, money that I had put in an emergency fund was gone in the first month. I had applied to a number of jobs, but had received no calls to come in. Very quickly, I began to feel stuck. I went out when I could, but when I thought I would pass out after running a 20-minute errand, I started to shut myself in. I would instead come up with clever quips on Facebook and browse Pinterest for ideas on decorating my apartment one day – preferably when I have a couch. I was so wrapped up in the little things that seemed to be going wrong that I wasn’t able to read between the lines and see just how these things were laying the foundation I actually needed here.

When I think back on the month now, I see this: I released a new music video thanks to a crew of talented designers, a great director, and actors I am lucky enough to call my friends. I picked up my guitar more often than I ever had and learned two new chords. I may have made them up, but they work for some of the lyrics I’ve been jotting down. I spent a lot of time e-mailing and calling those I’d hoped to meet with in Music City. I went for a walk around Radnor Lake. I made new friends who met me for dinner and took me down on Broadway and introduced me to new local artists when I just needed to get out of my apartment. And slowly, but surely, I began to realize that my days didn’t seem so out of control. I found churches with sermons that met me right where I was and hit me with words that I didn’t realize I needed to hear. I’ve spoken to my incredible friends and family back home often and find that I am still supported in this crazy dream I am chasing. AND I’ve made acquaintances with the cats next door and am slowly gaining their trust day by day!

Truly, though - I look at what our world is currently enduring and I think, “If I got to see the sunrise on my porch this morning, I am grateful. I have another day.” Change is hard. Change can be good and changing your perspective can change everything. Coming here, I expected something radically different. I’m so thankful things didn’t go according to plan because this is sure to make a great song someday. Don’t you think?

Dust

The Eli Young Band is narrating my life. Their latest song, "Dust", has lyrics that are seemingly reflective of my current situation, awakening both the thrill of a new opportunity and the fear of any comfort I may be leaving behind. Since my last post, I have been active in my attempt to create my own business as an artist and songwriter. I have since recorded another song called "Tool Shed" to add to the EP I've been working on. (You can check out my current tracks and latest news on my website at www.heatherhershow.wix.com/heatherhershowmusic or on my Facebook fan page at www.facebook.com/heatherhershowmusic! Yes, it's a mouthful of a domain name. I am aware of this fact...and I'm working on it) After working as a teacher and saving up some money, I am making a trip out to Nashville this month to hopefully meet with people and determine whether or not I could see myself living there for an extended period of time. This is HUGE for me! I essentially am doing this without a solid plan...Besides, I am comfortable here in L.A. I like my life here, and still I feel compelled to chase this dream - one that comes with a lot of uncertainty! But there are endless possibilities awaiting and all I have to do is make the choice to go and try. Nashville and a career as a staff songwriter/artist can't just be another beautiful idea; it's up to me to make this a reality. I've come so far in a little less than a year and I can't stop now! If the beginning of this adventure has taught me anything, it's that "being bold in the dreams we dream for our lives" pays off in ways we would never imagine. I do this, not for the glorification of my name, but for the purpose of creating and touching lives, and being relational/connecting with people (even those I've never met). It's writing a song in honor of an amazing woman who made so many of us smile (and continues to do so, even after her passing). It's bonding with someone over the reading of "The Fault in Our Stars" or helping a friend edit and submit a screenplay in hopes that he or she will be successful their pursuit of their dreams of scriptwriting. With this perspective and newfound inspiration, I realize that I am becoming more and more unafraid to put myself out there. If it means I go to Nashville and nothing comes of it, at least I'll know I did something. "There's gotta be more than the same old story, so she's gonna turn the page tonight." May you also be bold in your next steps <3