Riddle Changes!

Yes, again. I made a form so you don't have to email me. I know, I know, it's just so tedious to email! Oh, shush. Here's your form:

How a Musician is Perceived

I've been hearing a lot of complaints lately about how music is all about looks these days. That anyone who is popular is popular because they're good-looking and not because their music sucks. Great musicians who aren't good-looking are thrown under buses while not-so-great musicians who are good looking get thrown up on pedestals and treated like gods.

I completely disagree: Music isn't about music or looks. Instead, it's about the "persona" of the artist. The actual music an artist makes and the look he, she, or they has is only a part of the number one reason we like or dislike an artist: who we perceive them to be.

Let's take a look at Justin Bieber. Preteen girls love him. Moms love him. Girls in their late teens/early 20s hate him. But why? Justin Bieber's persona. He's been marketed as a sweet, cute, ideal boyfriend . . . for preteens. For moms? He's that sweet, cute, ideal boyfriend their daughter really likes. For teenagers? He's that annoying kid who thinks he's cool just because he's in Xth grade now and won't leave you alone. Maybe you even babysat him when he was younger, and now he thinks he's old enough to date you. Yeah, that kid.

Not everyone in each demographic agrees though, because not everyone agrees on who an "ideal" person is. The artists who are popular (besides luck and great marketing) are the ones who best fit into society's perceived idea of what "attractive" is, based on the persona (which includes image) that they convey.

Note that I say popular though, not successful. Popularity and success do not go hand and hand. Success requires good business, which is whole separate blog post entirely. Maybe I'll write about that later, when I actually have the right to talk about success.

Music is about who your fans perceive you as. Every lyric you write, every note you play, affects that. Every blog, Tweet, and picture you post affects that. As a musician, or any kind of public figure for that matter, everything you do that your potential fans can see is just as important as the music you make or how you dress. It is therefore your job to make yourself appear likable. The best musicians, I've found, are the ones who make their fans feel that by being a fan, they're part of a group of "cool" kids (even the dorky, "we're so uncool" kind of cool).

I could probably write an entire book (not that it'd be good) just on this, but I'll leave you with something my dad has told me over and over again my whole life:

"If you want friends, you have to be a friend."

Weekly Riddle Contest and Other News

Happy Monday! Coming this week:

Today, the brand new Weekly Riddle Contest "rules" (they're more like guidelines) are laid out below, and the new riddle is, of course, down there too. I'll be pointing out an artist or two during the week along with some other yet-to-be-determined posting, and Friday will be dedicated to the art of crashing classes, learnt either through success or failure. (I sure hope it's success!) Finally, it's the weekend, and I'll post up a freewrite along the lines of the Notes I used to post up on Facebook nearly daily awhile back on Saturday, and then I'll take all your votes into consideration and write up the next installment of the "Write with Me" series.

Onto updates:

1. I've taken up ukulele and guitar. I'm rocking at uke already, but my fingers are way too weak for much guitar playing right now. Soon!
2. I'm selling art now! Email me at ethraen [at] gmail [dot] com for more info.
3. I start college today. Crazy.

Weekly Riddle Contest Rules

1. Each Monday, a new riddle will be posted. If not, you are free to send many angry emoticons my way.
2. Riddle answers are now to be submitted via email to ethraen [at] gmail [dot] com, in order to allow everyone a chance to solve the riddle. 
3. The winner is the first to submit the correct answer. 
4. Wrong answers will receive a "wrong answer" reply as my time allows.
5. Each week, the prizes will vary, and not everything will be equal each week.
6. Not all prizes will be virtual, silly, or otherwise the sort of prize a starving artist would give, nor will the "big" prizes necessarily be for the hardest riddles. Just check back each week and give each riddle a shot.
7. All participants will be entered for a monthly prize drawing. Consistent participants, both in the Weekly Riddle Contest and the "Write with Me" storyline, will have higher chances of winning. 
8. All rules subject to change without your consent. My blog, my contest, my rules.
9. Best of luck!

And now, without further ado, this week's riddle!:

Stronger than steel, yet brushed away in the flick of the wrist.
Though you throw me out, I still hold onto your clenched fist.
At the sight of me, some might squirm or twist,
But I'm harder to see than haze in mist.
Who am I?

This week's prize is an unreleased (even to my closest friends and family) free-verse poem called "Step," hand-written, decorated, and signed on plain 8.5" by 11" paper. Remember you have to EMAIL your answer to me (ethraen [at] gmail [dot] com) to win. Good luck!

A Butterfly

Last week, you voted on what this person would see first. The votes are in, and the result? Something we perceive as beautiful!

The first thing this person, let us call him or her Person for now, saw was a butterfly. Bright, striking blue wings fluttering delicately through the air. A small, fragile butterfly. Innocent, beautiful. Once an ugly larva, now a majestic creature of beauty. At the sight, Person immediately froze.

The brilliant blue butterfly brushed Person's arm, and the first sound in this new world was made: a scream. Shrill, piercing, deafening, chilling. Person screamed as the wing of the butterfly touched his or her skin, and the butterfly fluttered away, unaware of the terror it has just caused. Person's heart raced, full of awe, wonder, uncertainty! With nothing to compare the butterfly to, no past experience or lessons passed down for generations, Person could not know what may come of contact with the bright, shimmering creature.

A mix of fear and curiosity now filled Person. A decision was to be made: to follow the butterfly and learn more, despite the danger sensed by the creature's sheer beauty and brilliance, or to turn in the opposite direction to the even more unknown. The realisation that he or she knew nothing, had no experience or knowledge by which to be guided, was a frightening one for a human. All Person could rely on was instinct, on heart. And so Person closed their eyes for a moment, out of instinct, and asked his or her heart for guidance.

Dear heart, what should Person do? You decide! Comment this blog or send an email to: ethraen [at] gmail [dot] com!

I Hate Blogging

I hate blogging. Today is supposed to be some kind of creative writing, but to hell with that. To hell with blogging. This is supposed to be making me a better writer?

"The Artist's Way" program says to write 3 pages every morning. Of anything. No matter how bad, nonsensical, incorrect, etc. I can't do it. I don't believe I even have writer's block. I can get over it on my own, thanks, Julia Cameron. I don't need anyone else's methods or tricks; I have my own: blogging.

Well, blogging daily is stupid. Some days (more like most days), I don't have anything interesting to say. My life isn't all that interesting; the only person who reads this is probably just my mom. Like I couldn't just drive over and talk to her in person.

But blogging daily isn't just about having readers. It's about becoming a better writer, reflecting on my own life and growth as a person, having a reason to make my life interesting, and actually following through with something. Every. Single. Day. I hate blogging because it's inconvenient and has no direct benefits. But every once in awhile, someone clicks and ad and I get a little closer to reaching the $100 of AdSense revenue I need to finally get my first paycheck from Google. Oh, the things I could buy with that first check. (Like this Melodica I'll probably end up buying after I get my scholarship money, even though I should be patient and just beg for it for Christmas.)

And, though I would rather not admit it in my current I-hate-blogging state, blogging daily pressures me into continuing to write and reflect and grow even when it gets gross and uncomfortable. A few minutes before starting this post, I flung myself on my kitchen floor and mourned my tragic life, (Caused, of course, by my car: the never ending stream of broken headlights, tail lights going out, check engine turning light on, gas vanishing, and no money to pay for any of it.) hoping I might just fall asleep right there and wake up to find things better. The thought of sleep was the happiest thought I had at the moment, and then it hit me: I needed to write up the blog post for Saturday morning. Crap.

I should be sleeping right now. Lying somewhere, crying myself to sleep over my actually pretty easy life. But instead, I'm smiling as I finish up a blog post I didn't want to write.

I hate blogging because it forces me to face reality: that my life is really great and I have no reason to complain. Why can't I have a miserable life so I can complain? Stupid blogging, making me think. Making me WRITE.

Watch out, NaNoWriMo, I'm going to be more than ready for you this year. I love blogging.