All of Me
I heard this one on my office IPOD the other day. It isn’t the point of the song, but it occurred to me the title reflected how I think we ought to go at things. It sure is that way in medicine. You give it your all, and in the end you’re still gonna lose. Sometimes I think we start with cadaver to make sure we get the point.
Art is the same way. Over the years I’ve played with hundreds of musicians. Many of them are excellent at their art and will never be recognized by any worldly reward. For 99.9% of us, all we’ll see at the end of the rainbow is the satisfaction of reaching deep down inside to find our best.
Writing sure is that way. Tim Stafford is at work on a book about Tony Rice. He told me a book project was a longer journey than a CD. After fifteen years with Blue Highway and multiple successful recording projects, he knows. In many ways writing a book is a microcosm of life. It is full of hopes, dreams and rejection. In spite of it all, you are still compelled to keep on in the hope you will fine tune your craft to the point others will get inside your head and contemplate your take on things.
It has its risks. You toss your heart out to the world and see what happens. Sometimes you get stomped on, but you go see the cardiologist, patch it up, and go back and try again. When it’s all over I want folks to say old Dr. B gave it his best in both medicine and art.
I know a lot of people find artists to be a little kooky, but I’m gonna give all me the whole way and let the chips fall where they may.
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