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“But life is just a party, and parties weren’t meant to last.” —Prince, 1999
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Parties Weren’t Meant to Last

“But life is just a party, and parties weren’t meant to last.”

—Prince, 1999

Prince passed away yesterday; he was fifty-seven. Between the fan tributes, listening to the nonstop playlists on KEXP, and watching buildings lit in purple as tribute around the world, I’ve found myself musing over his loss and how I handle the death of someone like Prince.

2016 has been a rough year for music already; we have lost some incredible titans: Maurice White, Merle Haggard, Phife Dogg, the indomitable David Bowie, and more. The internet as a whole allows all of us to share in moments together, and following each loss comes an outpouring of love, respect, and sadness. It’s beautiful to see how many people are touched by the creations of a single individual.

I was talking with a friend of mine this morning about how I handle moments like this differently. I didn’t know Prince personally, so I don’t cry, and I don’t generally get emotional. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. My emotions just go in a different direction. As I reflect on Prince’s life, I find myself inspired.

The quote I pulled from the lyrics of 1999, really resonated with me this morning—like a party, life doesn’t last. We are here on this earth for a finite time, and we’re lucky enough to live in an age where we can pursue whatever we wish. Often people squander this. I know I have. I can’t begin to calculate how many hours in the past I’ve wasted.

For me, the death of a titan like Prince doesn’t depress me. Sure, I will miss seeing performances like the halftime show from Super Bowl XLI, but looking back on his life and seeing what he was able to do in only fifty-seven years leaves me in awe. Prince’s life shows us what can happen when you are willing to put aside distractions and pour 100% of yourself into your creations. Look at his impact on music. Look at his influence in songwriting. Look at how he inspired so many generations of performers. A skinny kid from Minneapolis, Minnesota profoundly changed music forever. We won’t forget that, and that’s incredible. That energizes me, motivates me, and it makes me want to put aside all distractions and do the same.

The party of life may not last, but if you throw a good one, the memory will never fade. Rest in peace, Prince. Thanks.

Anne Rice
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Don’t Bend

“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.”

— Anne Rice

So, interesting aside. This quote is oddly often misattributed to Franz Kafka when in fact it comes from an introduction written by Anne Rice about a collection of Kafka short stories in 1995. The Quote Investigator had a great little post about it. Check it out here →

Chuck Close
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Inspiration is for Amateurs

“The advice I like to give young artists, or really anybody who’ll listen to me, is not to wait around for inspiration. Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself. Things occur to you. If you’re sitting around trying to dream up a great art idea, you can sit there a long time before anything happens. But if you just get to work, something will occur to you and something else will occur to you and something else that you reject will push you in another direction. Inspiration is absolutely unnecessary and somehow deceptive. You feel like you need this great idea before you can get down to work, and I find that’s almost never the case.”

—Chuck Close

Kari-Lise shared this quote with me today; it was too good not to post here. It’s solid advice from an incredibly prolific artist. So, what are you going to do? Wait around for the lighting to strike or are you going to show up and get to work? In the end, it’s up to you.

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Remembering Jake

About a year ago, I posted about my friend, Jake Rogers. Jake had cystic fibrosis and had just received a bilateral lung transplant and for the first time in a long time he could breath. A year later, and after a brave and courageous battle with rejection and infection, I am sorry to say that Jake passed away.

Jake was a huge inspiration in my life. He was encouraging and funny and wonderful. I am honored to have called him a friend. A few months after his transplant I was lucky enough to go with him on his first hike with his new lungs. We hiked the 5-mile trail out to Otter Falls. We talked about our lives, our loves, my writing, his art, and had a blast as a pair of inquisitive chipmunks crawled all over us. We talked about doing it more. It was a fantastic day, and it is a memory I hold dear.

I’m going to miss you, Jake. The world is a lesser place without you. Thank you for teaching me the value of a breath.

Jake Rogers, one of the best

Edgar Rice Burroughs
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I Knew Nothing About Writing

“I have been successful probably because I have always realized that I knew nothing about writing and have merely tried to tell an interesting story entertainingly.”

—Edgar Rice Burroughs

Came across this quote today and figured it’d be worth sharing. It resonates a lot with me. In the end, when all is said and done, the important thing is that you told the best story you can tell. Keep at it.

Oh! Remember the Red Litten World cover reveal and giveaway is coming tomorrow!

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Be Ruthless

J.K. Rowling

Be ruthless about protecting writing days, i.e., do not cave in to endless requests to have “essential” and “long overdue” meetings on those days. The funny thing is that, although writing has been my actual job for several years now, I still seem to have to fight for time in which to do it. Some people do not seem to grasp that I still have to sit down in peace and write the books, apparently believing that they pop up like mushrooms without my connivance. I must therefore guard the time allotted to writing as a Hungarian Horntail guards its firstborn egg.

—J.K. Rowling