A Matter of Interpretation

Within moments of clicking submit on a part-time retail job application, my back went out. I couldn't just power through, I was hunched over and hobbling with every step. Immediately, my brain twisted a narrative: 'See, your body knows what you don't, this isn't meant to be.' Oh, how easily I go from Rabbit to Eeyore. Two chiropractor appointments later, armed with daily stretching exercises andextra strength painkillerthat actually worked, I walked into the hiring manager's office and initiated the background check. Hopefully they didn't see me holding my breath and posture at certain moments. A few days later, my back is still screaming, but it's getting better. But I've been thinking a lot about how we interpret the things that happen to us. Sure, my brain twisted a negative narrative, but it could have easily spun a positive story: 'Just getting your attention, I want you to take care of yourself. You're going to get a physically demanding part-time job and it's imperative that you stretch every day.' In high school, a neighborhood friend dubbed me Mr. Negative. I still struggle with negativity and pessimism, but I also have moments of positivity and hope. I guess you could say I'm human. A lot happens to us on a daily basis and we have a choice on how we interpret the meaning. We can think we're being punished or blessed. We can bust out our gratitude journal and find a path to better days. We can place blame or take ownership on the consequences of our actions. There are so many things we can do. But perhaps the best thing we can do is take a moment, feel the highs and lows, brush ourselves off, and get back to the workbench. Losing ourselves in our work isn't the answer to every ailment, but it does reveal something new about us, about our relationship with the craft, and helps put life in context. When was the last time you listened to the small voice of intuition? You know the one, the voice that gets you a little excited when considering something new. As creatives, we often find ourselves ignoring it for a variety of reasons. We shove it aside in favor of certainty. We faithfully follow our routines until they become ruts. We chase trends instead of original ideas. Before we know it, intuition and knowing has disappeared. This line of thought is a taste of today's conversation with h.h. rune, a multi-dimensional author, artist, and dancing TikToker. We also explore asking for what you need, accepting what you don't know, how her studies show up in her work, the forgotten history that finds a way into her stories, why books are the subversive platform of the future, the challenge of building an audience who engage with our work, the creative nuggets that stay with her over time, and the limiting nature of categorization. If you are an independent producer in any artistic medium, you're going to get a lot out of today's episode. After a detour through art and madness, Kelley and I return to music documentaries and revel in the double feature ofZappa (2020)andThe Sparks Brothers (2021), two stories about bands and personalities that overlap in impact, work ethic, and a body of work that boggles the modern mind. There isn't a shortage of talking points with either Frank Zappa or Sparks. Throughout our conversation, Kelley and I talk about doing what you do for a long time, wanting people to like what we do even though we shouldn't care, the paradox of creative control, the business and political legacy of Zappa, the reality that art has never been easy, and the lack of ownership and the loss of discovery in our culture. Newsletter Notes: Today's sonic sound track isSolo Pianoby Ludovico Einaudi. The photo in the graphic above isLumber and Tools in a Woodworking Shopfrom Envato Elements. I set the title type above withCapstone Sans, designed by Jason Carne. Getting Work To Workis a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Thank you.