Hey Mark. I thoroughly enjoyed your essay. And, in the process of reading, I briefly...but only briefly asked myself the same question. The easy answer is, in 3rd grade my older cousin, Rodney sang "Sweet Betsy From Pike" to me. I'd never heard it and asked where he got it. "I wrote it," he answered. Well, if Rodney who taught me the "F" word and how to spit through my teeth...as well as talked me into kissing Patty Tate wrote songs...I would, too. I penned a version of Sweet Betsy from "her husband Ike's" perspective and sang it to him. He was amazed while allowing that he actually didn't write the first version. "Wow!" he said. "You're a songwriter!" So, if Rodney said I was a songwriter...I was a songwriter.
Miss you, my friend. Hope to see you down the road sooner than later.
There is a philosophy that says that a prime goal of our soul ought to be the wrapping of the mind within the heart where both can be perfectly nurtured by the spirit which empowers us.
I don't know that you are describing the same thing, but I've always admired you and the process you appear to go through in order to express your Self in ways that are very engaging and nurturing for me.
It's especially admirable to me the way that you express your truth.
I just walked up from the river on my sister’s horse farm in Northern Virginia where I spent my morning strolling along the banks and sitting for a long while on a rock in the middle of some lazy rapids, watching the fish as they watched me. I, too, started out as a songwriter before finding my calling in the theatre. Although I have always loved guitar (and John Denver) the most, I’ve yet to learn to play. My instrument was piano, and I wrote many overwrought angsty teen unrequited love ballads on our old upright. The most embarrassing of which was for a guy who was intellectually and spiritually far beyond the other pubescent lost boys of middle school and high school. His much older brothers were hippies who introduced him to Eastern religions, Yes, vegetarianism, and American sign language. He shared all of this with me. Plus he was a drummer. We would play music together for hours, lay out in a field in front of his house and star gaze, and talk about life as we knew it at 14. I wanted to impress him…so I used a thesaurus (almost exclusively) and penned “Destiny-bound Bird of Passage”. He has never let me live it down. After undergrad we reconnected. He was living with his band mates in Rhode Island. We spent a wild, sexual, and decadent week together playing & singing with his band, walking the rocky beaches at night, partaking in a variety of substances, and reminiscing the only way two young artists who connected at such a young age can. I have written far more plays than I have songs in my life at this point. I’ll never know if my Destiny-bound Bird of Passage shame led to the career shift. Trying too hard doesn’t begin to cover it! But as you know, I share your love of talking about the creative process with fellow creatives. I could go on and on. And often do…
As always beautifully written mark. I had no idea you were writing songs when you were in high school. That is exceptionally wonderful! Thanks for putting our picture in the story. Makes me feel proud to know you as a friend and also honored to have written such a wonderful song. Love you and hope to see you soon.
You describe beautifully what I think so many songwriters feel. Your descriptions in lines like "Once I caught the scent of that first song, others followed like dogs to a dumpster" paints such a vivid picture of things that are sometimes hard to put into words. Wonderful writing and photos!
You’ve hit the nail on the head, Mark. The duality of writing. Amen. I’ve written many scraps of songs that get left to be forgotten. I’ve written many lines that make me grin ear to ear and start to think I’ve got the hang of it, right before a hundred more junk lines come down the pipe to remind me that I’m a writer, and no, it’s not that easy. A beautiful read, as always.
I am so happy to read this today because I will see you tonight at the Heuvelton Boat Launch and enjoy your writing, your songs. God bless you and God bless us all.
Brilliant my friend! There is no single answer IMHO!
Hey Mark. I thoroughly enjoyed your essay. And, in the process of reading, I briefly...but only briefly asked myself the same question. The easy answer is, in 3rd grade my older cousin, Rodney sang "Sweet Betsy From Pike" to me. I'd never heard it and asked where he got it. "I wrote it," he answered. Well, if Rodney who taught me the "F" word and how to spit through my teeth...as well as talked me into kissing Patty Tate wrote songs...I would, too. I penned a version of Sweet Betsy from "her husband Ike's" perspective and sang it to him. He was amazed while allowing that he actually didn't write the first version. "Wow!" he said. "You're a songwriter!" So, if Rodney said I was a songwriter...I was a songwriter.
Miss you, my friend. Hope to see you down the road sooner than later.
Ken Gaines
There is a philosophy that says that a prime goal of our soul ought to be the wrapping of the mind within the heart where both can be perfectly nurtured by the spirit which empowers us.
I don't know that you are describing the same thing, but I've always admired you and the process you appear to go through in order to express your Self in ways that are very engaging and nurturing for me.
It's especially admirable to me the way that you express your truth.
Peace, Brother!
Gordy
I just walked up from the river on my sister’s horse farm in Northern Virginia where I spent my morning strolling along the banks and sitting for a long while on a rock in the middle of some lazy rapids, watching the fish as they watched me. I, too, started out as a songwriter before finding my calling in the theatre. Although I have always loved guitar (and John Denver) the most, I’ve yet to learn to play. My instrument was piano, and I wrote many overwrought angsty teen unrequited love ballads on our old upright. The most embarrassing of which was for a guy who was intellectually and spiritually far beyond the other pubescent lost boys of middle school and high school. His much older brothers were hippies who introduced him to Eastern religions, Yes, vegetarianism, and American sign language. He shared all of this with me. Plus he was a drummer. We would play music together for hours, lay out in a field in front of his house and star gaze, and talk about life as we knew it at 14. I wanted to impress him…so I used a thesaurus (almost exclusively) and penned “Destiny-bound Bird of Passage”. He has never let me live it down. After undergrad we reconnected. He was living with his band mates in Rhode Island. We spent a wild, sexual, and decadent week together playing & singing with his band, walking the rocky beaches at night, partaking in a variety of substances, and reminiscing the only way two young artists who connected at such a young age can. I have written far more plays than I have songs in my life at this point. I’ll never know if my Destiny-bound Bird of Passage shame led to the career shift. Trying too hard doesn’t begin to cover it! But as you know, I share your love of talking about the creative process with fellow creatives. I could go on and on. And often do…
As always beautifully written mark. I had no idea you were writing songs when you were in high school. That is exceptionally wonderful! Thanks for putting our picture in the story. Makes me feel proud to know you as a friend and also honored to have written such a wonderful song. Love you and hope to see you soon.
You describe beautifully what I think so many songwriters feel. Your descriptions in lines like "Once I caught the scent of that first song, others followed like dogs to a dumpster" paints such a vivid picture of things that are sometimes hard to put into words. Wonderful writing and photos!
You’ve hit the nail on the head, Mark. The duality of writing. Amen. I’ve written many scraps of songs that get left to be forgotten. I’ve written many lines that make me grin ear to ear and start to think I’ve got the hang of it, right before a hundred more junk lines come down the pipe to remind me that I’m a writer, and no, it’s not that easy. A beautiful read, as always.
I am so happy to read this today because I will see you tonight at the Heuvelton Boat Launch and enjoy your writing, your songs. God bless you and God bless us all.