A Musician’s Creative Journey
If you missed it, you can read Week Twenty 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.
This week of A Musician’s Creative Journey moved between memory and motion. It opens with Brian, a friend, a riddle-teller, a reminder to keep the child inside me awake and from there drifts through a quiet encounter with a goose at dusk, a steady little frog tucked in the grass, and a sound bath that put my soul back in order.
By midweek, the journey turned practical: building a studio that holds every instrument and every mood, then tearing my pedalboard apart at 3 AM until it finally, gloriously, comes back together. Reflection, wonder, and gear — all part of the same creative thread.
FYI — I’m playing catch-up with my blog posts. I finally had some time this week to catch up on my writing. For those of you taking time to read and follow along — thank you for your patience, encouragement, and for being part of this creative journey series.
— k
Day One
May 21st, 2026
The fairies are gone.
The door stayed.
Some doors don’t open into rooms.
They open into worlds.
There’s an entire fantasy world that lives within us all. Whether we honor it or not — we all dream.
One of my dearest friends, Brian, was older than me, and smart — a computer scientist back before most people even had computers. He had a small, strange white box with a black screen and dull white text. It looked like secret code.
He knew more than me. He often talked in riddles. He made me think.
He died young. I didn’t see it coming.
The first night we ever talked, we walked for hours. I’ve told this story so many times. Three times that night, he stopped and told me that the child in me would fall asleep one day — don’t let that child die.
Three times.
I’ll never forget Brian. Neither will my child.
Day Two
May 22nd, 2026
Two Canada geese gliding in at dusk.
One, curious, broke from the pair —
We had a moment.
If geese could talk, this guy wouldn’t say a word. He saw me from a distance, broke away from his friends, and glided toward me.
We stared at each other. I asked how he was doing. He came closer. Silence.
Finally, I said, “I don’t have any food.” He didn’t seem to mind — just curious.
Eventually, he turned and glided away. Never looked back.
Day Three
May 23rd, 2026
Mr. Frog — sometimes it’s the little things tucked along the way that remind us to smile.
Mr. Frog gets buried in snow during the winter and hides in the grass all summer long. I always look to make sure he’s still there.
He serves as a reminder — resilience, stability, and chill.
Day Four
May 24th, 2026
Sound bath.
Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is,
lie down and let the music find you.
Every day, I take a sound bath. It does my soul good. It reminds me of what’s important.
Music is a gift. Gifts must be given, cultivated, and cared for in order to grow.
The journey as an artist isn’t simple. It’s complicated. Always uncertain. It requires survival skills, curiosity, and grit.
No matter the cost — the rewards are immeasurable.
Day Five
May 25th, 2026
Music is a shapeshifter.
It becomes whatever the room,
and the moment, needs it to be.
Creating a studio space for writing, practicing, teaching, recording, and relaxing is the glue that holds my creative journey’s process together. I need order, no clutter, and space to move between all the modalities that bring me creative joy.
Everything must be easily moved, like a play with different sets for different scenes. My electric guitar and my acoustic guitar live in two different worlds and have two different setups.
For those just beginning their acoustic guitar journey, choosing the right instrument can make all the difference. I recently shared my thoughts on selecting the best acoustic guitar for beginners and what to look for when starting out.
My handpans, crystal and Tibetan singing bowls, Native American flutes, and concert gong all speak the same language but produce such different energy.
One thread runs through everything: my yoga mat, a space on the floor, a journal or computer, and a good cup of coffee. I like to sit and think, write, and practice — and sometimes just play.
I’m so glad to be off the road. I can’t stress enough the toll it took on me, yet I’m keenly aware of all that it gave me.
Moving forward, I look forward to traveling again. This time, I plan to be in the world, not on the road. I believe this will be very different, and it’s where I’ll spend some concentrated time. I’ve driven past most every place I’d like to see, so now it’s my plan to actually go back, see what I missed, and embrace what I find. A little bit at a time.
Day Six
May 26th, 2026
3 AM…
pedalboard intervention needed!!!
This photo reminds me of my bedroom in high school. I knew where everything was. I shudder to think that I chain-smoked cigarettes in the middle of all that clutter. I was a walking, breathing fire hazard waiting to happen.
Clutter didn’t bother me then. It does now. I’ve learned things must be taken apart before you can put them back together again, and that lasting change happens over time.
Building a pedalboard for my guitars and handpan has been exhausting, but I’ve finally completed the process. I need my big rig for my electric guitar, and a small, battery-powered acoustic rig — it has to be quality, because I want to be able to play it on stage or in small, remote spaces. It must be light, easy to set up, and support the sound I’m hearing while giving me room to play with freedom.
Then I need a very small rig I can take when I hike into the mountains. I plan to record soundscapes and see what music comes to me while off the grid — angels, fairies, worms, or dirt, anything but a cell phone, a newsfeed, or email.
Note to self — don’t forget coffee.
So, it’s 3 AM, again! I can’t sleep until each new experiment is complete, all the clutter is put away, and the coffee is ready to go in the morning!
Day Seven
May 27th, 2026
3:31 AM…
my off-grid acoustic pedalboard, version one, is complete!!!
My pedalboard for the acoustic setup is done! I have a new blog that I just published that goes into detail about my new stage and off-grid acoustic guitar and handpan setup. I’m excited — this journey has taken almost a year to perfect, and there’s so much depth to what I can do with each setup. Now it’s time to explore!
I know — 3 AM is late. 3:31 AM is later. But it’s worth it. The world is quiet. I never sleep more than 6 hours, so I’m always up by 8 or 9 AM, and once I close my eyes, I’m out!
Bottom line — I’m starting to play gigs again. I’m excited. Building my guitar rig is a ritual. It’s my therapy. It’s taken some time to reconnect with the idea of performing again. It feels right.
Wrap Up
Week 21 is a wrap. I remain fully committed to this creative journey — taking it one day at a time, one image at a time, one honest reflection at a time.
Every image I share provides a thumbnail view of the world around me. This journey creates a deliberate pause and continues to serve as a reminder to slow down, look closer, and stay the course. Steady on.
Some weeks ask you to sit still. This one asked me to build something. Between Brian’s voice in my memory — still vivid, some 40 years later — the goose who didn’t need words, and yet another incarnation of a pedalboard that took almost a year to get right, Week 21 reminded me that creativity isn’t one mood — it’s all of them, stacked on top of each other, waiting for the right moment to play.
As always, thank you for being part of this journey.
Bye for now — see you in Week 22.
— k
An Invitation to Write
Set a timer for ten minutes. Write without stopping. Stay ahead of your editor — just let whatever flows onto the page unfold.
Writing Prompt: Take a few minutes and write about something that speaks to you this week. Something that might go unnoticed or forgotten — had you not picked up a pen, found a piece of paper, and taken ten minutes to write. Just like my friend Brian, capturing moments that stand out and moments that matter are profound treasures. They remind us who we are, what we’ve seen, and more than anything, what has made us feel.
Resources: I continue to return to this channel. This is one of my favorite YouTube channels — Samaneri Jayasāra – Wisdom of the Masters. Check it out and see what you think — it always calms my mind and helps me center my thoughts.
Here is a featured track — Rising Sun — 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.
