A Musician’s Creative Journey
If you missed it, you can read Week Fifteen of my Musician’s Creative Journey, where I explore symbols, memory, and what endures.
This post is the latest installment of my ongoing series, A Musician’s Creative Journey — a weekly practice of reflection through music, writing, and daily life.
In Week 16, I find myself reflecting on how things have changed, evolved, and in some cases devolved. There’s a big difference between the world I grew up in and the world in which I live now. These reflections feed my soul, keep me present, and provide a roadmap for reflection.
My camera breaks the silence between my inner world and the world around me — it snaps me back to reality, penetrates through the distractions of each day, and re-introduces me to my Muse — we’re becoming friends again.
Thank you for being part of this creative journey.
— k
Day One
April 16th, 2026
John Wayne, in black and white—
framed beside an old Kodak, holding onto time.
April 16th, 2026
I remember John Wayne. I remember life in black and white. I grew up with a black-and-white TV, no remote, and an antenna with rabbit ears — you’d beat on the box thinking it would strengthen the signal, get rid of the snow on the screen, remove the lines as they rolled from top to bottom.
A Polaroid camera that spit out black and white, with a roller for some kind of finishing gel that smelled like fingernail polish.
Eventually we had a Kodak Instamatic camera, with colored film you dropped off and waited to be developed. No edits. No retakes. Just the cold hard facts — a dress on Sunday, cowboy boots, cap guns, a crack rifle, and the bangs of my pixie cut uneven.
We were the last family to get a color TV. It was a return from Sears.
The newspaper showed up every evening. On Sundays there were colored cartoons. Silly Putty could lift the image right off the page — it was better than Photoshop would ever be.
From one-hour photos to disposable cameras, telephones with coiled cords that hung on the wall, to what was once called the idiot box — all packaged together. We’ve gone from Walter Cronkite and Barbara Walters to a cast of characters that look like Barbie and Ken, with headlines that read like the cover of the tabloids, once found in grocery store checkout lanes!
Instagram was a photo album that sat on a shelf.
I remember seeing John Wayne on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, and I remember when John Wayne died.
Day Two
April 17th, 2026
Back down the rabbit hole—
lost once again.
The journey of creating sound
has no ending.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m still not done with this damn pedal board.
If I wasn’t going to be cremated, I’d have this written on my tombstone.
Once it’s done, I swear I’m gonna create my masterpiece!
Day Three
April 18th, 2026
Imagine a world without coffee… 🫣😳😇
A reminder that joy often lives in the simplest moments.
I don’t think I can imagine a world without coffee — and I don’t want to try. I gave up martinis 16 years ago. I smoked my last cigarette in 2003. I panic at the thought of ever going through a McDonald’s drive-through. And the Starbucks I used to go to — now it’s just order only, no bathroom, and parking slots for pickup delivery only.
So I cherish my mornings with my coffee, and I’m no friends with anyone who’s ever stood in my way.
I’m not sure how a hot cup of black bitter water with half-and-half and what feels like a spark of inspiration — like training wheels that helped me start off my day — holds so much power. It’s a ritual. It makes me stop. It’s my prize each morning, just for waking up.
Day Four
April 19th, 2026
This old bicycle took me back to my purple Huffy bike —
sissy bar, banana seat, handlebars reaching for the sky.
Bishop’s Bicycles — one of the oldest continuously operating bicycle shops in the United States. Its roots go back to the 1800s. I’ve driven past this bicycle shop for three years now. I had no idea. It’s funny what it takes to learn something. Without this camera, I might’ve never known.
I never had training wheels on my bicycle. My dad put me at the top of the hill and turned me loose. I made it to the bottom, pointed my handlebars toward a patch of grass, and made my first and last soft landing.
No helmet. No kneepads. Just a first aid kit.
I survived, and I still have the scars to prove it.
Day Five
April 20th, 2026
Seeing Jimi through a windowpane brought back memories–
so long ago was yesterday.
By the time I got my first guitar, Jimi Hendrix was dead. I had no idea who he was, what he had done, what he stood for, or the sounds he made come out of a guitar.
My generation held onto the coattails of the hippie movement like a rope on an inner tube tied to a speedboat. Windowpane — once a source of inspiration and enlightenment for a generation — its echoes now peer through the glass of one of the only remaining record stores in town.
The first time I heard Jimi Hendrix, my life changed. It’s like everything I’d ever looked at suddenly had new possibilities. The ripple effects of our lives reach far beyond the straws falling off the end of a broomstick — that’s where Jimi started. Think of our world today if that would’ve been the end.
I honestly think he’s somewhere, peeking through each and every album cover and poster, picking up the vibrations from every Fender Strat. It’s not magic– that’s just what we call it.
Day Six
April 21st, 2026
Today’s offering serves as a reminder —
Just a little ray of sunshine can brighten someone’s day!
I still haven’t mastered the exposure settings on my camera, but I’m getting closer. A few years ago, I took my first crop sensor Sony camera to Colorado, where I woke up early, made my coffee, drove, and waited for the sunrise.
I bought phone apps to help me figure out where the sun would set. I drove 90 miles an hour up and down mountains and around hairpin curves chasing sunsets. I felt like an idiot. I never had a good sense of direction. So when I finally captured a few fleeting sunsets, it was a big deal.
Today, there’s a spot less than a minute’s walk away where I can find the sunset. I no longer need a phone app. I hope that by the end of this year’s journey, I master how I capture the sky.
Day Seven
April 22nd, 2026
Sometimes there’s a lot to look at and the message isn’t clear.
That’s the point.
I love looking for reflections in windows. Before this camera, they were just a mirror for me to check if I was having a bad hair day.
There’s an infinite set of possibilities that lies behind each window, subject to the light that reflects the world around it. We have the power to place what we want in the window, to clean the glass, write graffiti on the outside, even hang a sign. But we don’t have the power to control who walks by or who peeks in — the message from our window still stands. It influences what they think. Sometimes we care too much. Sometimes we’re blind to the message we send.
I think life is a lot like my camera — there’s no guarantee we’re going to pay attention to what’s behind the glass, unless we take time, open our eyes, and reconnect with the world around us.
Like an old Instamatic camera—it will never be replaced by Instagram.
Wrap Up
This concludes Week 16. I remain committed to this creative journey, taking it one day at a time. I’ve had breakthroughs in my creative process, continued to take photos, and looked at the world around me for what speaks.
Each image I share serves as a thumbnail — a steady reminder to pause, reflect, and stay the course.
Bye for now… Week Seventeen coming soon.
— k
An Invitation to Write
Set a timer for ten minutes. Write without stopping. Don’t edit, don’t second-guess — just let it come.
Writing Prompts:
Take a minute and think about something that stood out this past week — something you could have easily overlooked but didn’t. Describe what it was, why it caught your attention, and what it had to say. Reflect on how these little moments trigger what has helped shape who you are today.
Resources:
Ben Sasse, Republican: The 60 Minutes Interview
Former Sen. Ben Sasse, dying of cancer, is using the time he has as “an opportunity to talk about bigger stuff.” He reflects on America’s future, and the importance of faith, community and family. Watch the 60 Minutes feature
Here is a featured track titled Finding My Way Back Home from my catalogue:
Seek out something new this week — and let it surprise you.
— k
P.S. My Substack is growing. It’s a space to go deeper beyond the weekly posts into the thoughts and questions that don’t fit neatly into a caption. I’d love for you to join me there.
