Last week, I took a trip over to Lake George, NY to attend a songwriters retreat called INK24, hosted by Song City Troy. I've said it in several posts on social media, but I'll say it again here - it was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life, musical or otherwise. I can't explain how lucky I was to be a part of this group of people. As much as I went into the retreat looking for opportunities to collaborate, I'm not very good at initiating those kinds of things. I was surrounded by incredible talent, and despite my wallflower tendencies, I was welcomed into the fold immediately and treated as a peer. That took me a minute to adjust to, because these artists were truly fantastic. Every single one of them. And I know it's just my ever-present imposter syndrome, and that I can write a decent song... But I'm going to extend a metaphor to explain how I felt, watching everyone work. For a moment, pretend we're all visual artists... and this is the company I'm among:
First, there's Sawyer. He's a visionary who has invented a completely new method of applying paint to a canvas. It's a whole-body effort that is almost its own form of dance, and he's mastered it. It's stunning - even as you watch him do it, it defies understanding. The resulting work is magnificent. And wholly, uniquely his.
There's Laura, who understands the details of her craft to the tiniest degree... And more than that, she's working with a rainbow of pigments she has carefully mixed from the elements of her life. Her tears are in the blue, her laughter is in the yellow, her blood is in the red, and the black is made from the ashes of an ex's love letters. Her paintings are beautiful, personal, and disarmingly honest.
Jay is steeped in folk art traditions. He uses timeless methods to weave tapestries that incorporate deceptively intricate patterns in brand new ways. He's pushing the those traditions forward, but his work retains the sense of joy, cooperation, and community of his roots.
Areli works in oil paints, applying classical training and precision to a more modern vision. If she's creating a dramatic landscape, you can feel a gust of wind coming off the canvas as the storm clouds are rolling in overhead. And when you look closely enough, it's clear that she has considered the placement of every single leaf on every single tree.
Natalie is like Henri Matisse... Able to work confidently across a diverse array of mediums and styles. Sometimes her work is focused and introspective, other times it's abstract and lively, but it's always rendered in such a distinctive color palette that it's identifiably hers.
Ellen is a pen and ink illustrator, carefully drawing perfectly-composed, minimalist portraits that capture the soul of her subject with half as many lines as should be possible. And to add or subtract anything from the composition would lessen it. It leaves me both awestruck and a little envious.
Cam is a graphic novelist, constructing entire worlds, frame by frame, in bold strokes and stunning technicolor. He's cleverly merging joy and pain and humor and reflection into a medium that is forcefully pushing both artistic and narrative conventions out of the way. His vision is confident and polished, and his work commands attention.
Cara speaks through her watercolors, creating at a whirlwind pace the moment inspiration strikes. She layers delicate colors into pieces that are at once sensitive and playful, with an innate depth that invites you to repeatedly examine the subtle details.
And then there's Jacob, who on the first night showed us one of the many beautiful pastel works he'd created, a piece that was bold and confident and soulful all at once... And then he chose to spend the retreat joining with others and exploring their mediums, which was somehow able to step into flawlessly.
And I brought a box of crayons. (Alright... that's hyperbole.)
It's more accurate to say I showed up with a pencil and a ruler, a calculator and a compass, and a handful of equations. I too make marks on the paper, and I'm sincere in my calculations... but they're calculated nonetheless.
I felt like this put me on the outside, but this wonderful group of people felt differently. They invited me into their visions, as a fellow artist. (I do consider myself an artist, but in the company of people whose work I admire, I downplay it. They wouldn't let me. I'm so deeply grateful for that.) And together in that artistic space, we made beautiful things. We shared questions and lessons and wishes and frustrations in conversations where I felt seen and understood in a way that I haven't experienced... ever, as far as I can remember.
Here's to new paintings that we created together in those few days, and all the ones yet to be made. I am immensely grateful for this whole experience, and I'm so excited to see what my INK24 family accomplishes in the years to come.
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