The Space Between Brush & Canvas

- Ramiro Fauve

I was talking with a guy at a party the other night. He always wanted to try his hand at art and
songwriting and knew I was a designer/musician, so he asked where to even start.

Well, he asked the right person because I love to encourage people to break out, to share that
voice inside. Have you ever felt this from graffiti? Sometimes it's just a name sprayed across a
wall, as if screaming "I'm here". It's natural to want to be recognized, but where do we begin?

First, I think be present. Peek under rocks and around corners -- you have to live in order to
have something worth reporting. Fortunately, or sadly, you will have to love deeply to have
your heart shattered to have it born into song. At least that means most of us probably have a
great song to write. It also helps to do it incessantly as I do to hold space for it.

Process? This can mean setting a vibe in a quiet place, maybe getting a beat going or putting a
few chords in some order. Sometimes I just grab a phrase from some text across the TV screen
or a news flash. Maybe it's something cool a friend says or a rare moment when I come up with
a clever quip -- could make for a lyric. The Beatles credited Ringo with a lot of their take off
lines, like "it's been a hard days night" and "all the lonely people, where do they all come from."

A song from my latest album, Where Rivers Cross Vols 1 & 2, came to me like this. I'm camping
with a friend and just finished writing "Haven't I". I'm on a writing streak of 2 songs a day for 10
days and honestly almost afraid of touching my guitar. Sometimes I'd wake up from a dream
with a complete song, or it will just come in like email without much input from me. It can feel
you're just a song's tool. Other times it takes a lot of brow-beating work. Well, today my friend
is on her hammock and I'm beside her on a stump. She says she's going to take a quick nap, so I
keep idly strumming my junky travel guitar. Some clouds start moving in, so I simply take
notice. The "download" begins:

Rain drops in the valley

Clouds over the plains
Lighting rips the sky....

Is this a song? What do I do with these lines? This feeling of dread and woe, darkening skies,
swirling turmoil, hot threating moist wind, this front of danger. My next line:

And thunder rumbles out your name

I'm reminded of her. My old ex. This unleashes uneasiness and brings her right back. My idylic
nature scene suddenly collapses into emotional muscle memory. I realize I'm wounded,
exposed, vulnerable to everything. This place is not my sanctuary, it's as deadly as all I've gotten
over. Naturally, I pursue:
 Bear prowls the meadow
Bobcat stalks the range
Eagle screaming over
At the cliff's edge lies a snake

How have these beautiful towering trees become menacing timber that aim to fall around me?
Where am I going with this, Ramiro? The chorus speaks:

I went up to the mountain to forget you

Tried every way, cried anyway
I went up to the mountains to forget you
Oh, maybe someday

It's called, "The Mountain" -- and if I may say so, the verses got better as it went on and you
should hear the ending! Once I was "in", it was done in minutes. I think my creative process is
relatively smooth because I write often and strive to keep the creative doors open. The hardest
part of painting is the space between the brush and canvas. So press in. Commit and you are
more than halfway there.

~r