Opening Thoughts – A Musician’s Creative Journey
This post is part of my ongoing Musician’s Creative Journey, a weekly practice of reflection through music, photography, writing, and daily life.
This has been a cold and dreary week, but it’s also been a productive one. With each photo I’ve taken, I’ve stepped away from the world around me, looked through the lens, and captured a moment in time.
Teaching, writing, recording and finally, setting up my guitar rig in the studio it feels like the right moment to weave together all the sounds and textures I’ve gathered. It’s time to bring it all together.
If you missed it, you can read Week Four of my Musician’s Creative Journey, where I reflected on momentum, uncertainty, and the small choices that shaped the week before this one.
Day One
January 29, 2026
Street photography after the storm. A quiet figure among the statues,
holding the stillness of winter
in downtown Milford.
Oh, the things we see when we take the time to look.
Feeling inspired to take photos is one thing; becoming a photographer is another. What camera gear do you purchase, and why? Learning the mechanics of the camera—how to capture what you see, how to edit—it’s a lot. And then you’re faced with the real challenge: the part that seems easy, fun, and rewarding. I find myself asking, What do I shoot?
That feels like the simplest part of the equation. It’s not.
Looking at the landscape and letting it speak to you—what stands out? Walking down the street and capturing the perfect photo—of what? When we become the observer, everything changes. It’s a bit like quantum physics: in quantum mechanics, the act of observation can influence what is being observed.
What does it mean to become an observer? What does it mean to act? What does it mean to decide where to place your focus? Does it become so daunting that you give up?
I’m determined to post a photo each day, with the hope of getting just one percent better. But I’m quickly realizing it’s not about getting one percent better at being a photographer—it’s about getting one percent better at becoming an observer.
You can only edit what you capture, and reality reveals itself when you load the images onto your computer and see what you actually got. Sure, you can use Photoshop or Lightroom to enhance an image, but the subject matter is what truly counts.
We live in a world where we can alter and perfect everything after the fact. We can edit and delete our posts, present whatever version of ourselves we want others to see—but that doesn’t change the reality of what lies beneath it all. Are we honest, authentic, or vulnerable enough to try?
We’ll see.
— k
Day Two
January 30, 2026
Downtown Milford.
Mary—from a different angle.Maybe we should pray.
I make the rules. Day one, 2026. I’ll take a photo each day, edit it, add a few lines, post on Instagram, create a weekly theme, and write a monthly Substack—it will be fun!
What I’ve learned so far:
It’s hard to follow rules as an artist that’s why they’re so important.
What you think you know is often what you came to learn.
The photos I thought would be the worst are sometimes the best.
What you’re looking for is not always what you see.
When you’re exploring, you don’t control the theme.
In this photo, I’m standing in the shadows behind a statue of Mary. The flag caught my eye. It was cold. My feet were wet. I couldn’t just walk away.
I stood there in the shadows, behind Mary, thinking maybe we should pray.
— k
Day Three
January 31, 2026
We become what we behold.
My friend Brian gave me a black-and-white photography book titled We Become What We Behold. I was twenty. He was older—smarter, wiser. A hippie in a suit.
He would point to his watch and say, “This watch works for me—I don’t work for it.” The first night we met, we walked for hours, talking. Three different times that night he stopped and said, “One day the child in you will fall asleep—don’t let that child die.” He tried to teach me everything I thought I already knew.
This photo spoke to me. It reminded me of Brian. It reminded me of an image from that book, paired with a quote by Oscar Wilde: “The mystery is not the invisible—it’s the visible.”
Brian was diabetic—I knew that. Brian died when he was thirty—I didn’t see that coming. I didn’t get to say goodbye.
I miss my friend Brian. But the child in me is still alive. My watch works for me; I don’t work for it. I’m still learning to see.
— k
Day Four
February 1, 2026
White Rabbits
Crossing from the known into the unknown.
The moment before everything changes.
I didn’t read Alice in Wonderland, but I know the story. From an artist’s perspective, it frames a sliver of the archetypal patterns that helped shape the 1960s counterculture movement.
This photo, it’s just a cement rabbit, painted white, placed a block away from a gun store in downtown Milford, Ohio.
As I looked through the lens, the rabbit appeared to be standing up straight for the camera—head cocked, pink nose, ears high. The camera captured a moment where everything changes.
— k
Day Five
February 2, 2026
What are you reading?
What are you reading? Reading matters.
When I graduated high school, I’d read two books—Charlotte’s Web in fifth grade and Buried Alive (Janis Joplin) my senior year. By twenty-one, I’d read Lazy Man’s Guide to Enlightenment and No One Here Gets Out Alive. At twenty-five, The Fountainhead. By thirty, The Way of the Peaceful Warrior, No Ordinary Moments, and Illusions. By thirty-three, Journal of a Solitude and A Room of One’s Own.
Fast forward—books on tape, CDs, Audible. I’ve driven over one million miles touring and listened to hundreds of books.
My conclusion: books matter. I love Patti Smith. I’m grateful for the teachers whose kindness altered the course of my life.
— k
Day Six
February 3, 2026
My jewelry box.
My childhood.
A blank slate in a world with faded pink lining.
I chose a path very different from a ballerina in a pink music box, but this little box is still a treasure. My mother tried to get me to wear dresses; I wanted cowboy boots, cap guns, a slingshot, and a Batman suit.
My parents gave me piano lessons; I wanted roller skates and an electric guitar.
I’m thankful for the jewelry box that played the major scale—and for surviving white lace dresses and patent leather shoes. I still dream of the skating rink, and I still dream as a guitar player.
Somehow, it all worked out—thanks to love, and the will to survive what doesn’t fit until you find what does.
— k
Day Seven
February 4, 2026
Exploring new soundscapes — grounding.
Writing lyrics — reflection.
Making sense out of chaos — creativity.
My world as an artist is ever-changing. I continue to make the rules and stay the course, wherever it leads. I’ve bitten off a lot with this project, but I’m following the breadcrumbs—curious to see where they will take me.
Writing and Recording Music
For the past three years, I’ve been working on handpan compositions and intentionally building a collection that supports my musical vision. Alongside that, I’ve maintained a deep love for ambient blues and meditation soundscapes. I feel as though I’ve been preparing for this moment for a lifetime—and now it’s time to place real focus on recording.
Having a well-charted path with the guitar, I’ve worked hard to expand my studio to accommodate capturing the resonant, nuanced sound of the handpan. This past week, I pulled out my old 1965 Fender Super Reverb—the amp my guitar teacher, Eddie Beckley, left me when he passed.
It’s been part of my studio for the past two decades, even as I moved into stereo rigs using Fender Deluxe Reverbs and, for smaller shows, Princeton amps. This Super Reverb is brimming with tone and history, and it sounds absolutely fantastic in the studio.
Studio Guitar Rig
I have a special setup that my sound engineer, Duane Adams, helped me build in the late 1990s. For any guitar gearheads reading along, here’s a rundown of my rig, along with a link to an article that came out a few years ago:
Pedals
JHS Prestige Buffer / Booster
Fulltone Deluxe Wah
Strymon OB.1 – Compressor & Clean Boost
Strymon Sunset – Dual Overdrive
Studio Setup
Fender Super Reverb Amp with TDH 2-ohm dummy load
Palmer The Junction Speaker Simulator
Boss NS Pedal with effects loop
Signal Chain
Boss FV-30L Foot Volume Pedal
Eventide H9 — stereo signal begins here, set one octave below
TC Electronic Triple Flashback Delay — three delays, series or parallel
Eventide H9 — toggling between Shimmer, Blackhole, and Flanger
Pigtronix Infinity Looper with MIDI sync to Ableton Live
(2) Fender Deluxe Reverb Amps — ’65 Reissues
(2) Princeton Reverb Amps — ’65 Reissue and an original 1967
CNB PDC-410G MSBK Black Locking Aluminum Pedal Case
For more details on my guitar rig, you can read the article “Tone Talk with Kelly Richey” in Guitar Girl Magazine.
I’m excited to be recording again. It’s always a work in progress but that’s what keeps life interesting.
For those of you who are reading Musician’s Creative Journey series, thank you. It truly means a lot.
— k
Week Five Wrap-Up – A Musician’s Creative Journey
This wraps up week five of my Musician’s Creative Journey. I continue—one day at a time. Each image is a reminder to pause, reflect, and stay the course.
This Musician’s Creative Journey continues to evolve, one week and one reflection at a time.
Week Six (Coming Soon)
— k
P.S. I invite you to subscribe to my Substack , a place to go deeper and build community through connection.
An Invitation to Write
Set a timer for ten minutes. Write without stopping.
Writing prompts:
Write about who you are without saying what you do.
What stands out to you in the world around you?
Resources
Recently, I’ve been listening to Path to the Palace (Thomas Merton, by James Finley), In Search of Lost Time (Marcel Proust), and The Complete Socrates Collection—52 hours and 45 minutes. Oof.
