Epiphany Space news Archive Feed

The Accountability Coach Who Needed an Accountability Coach

Wed, 29 Apr 2026 15:14:58 GMT

The Accountability Coach Who Needed an Accountability Coach

By Suzanne Yada

Some of you know I run an accountability and coworking community for creatives, called The Creative Spirals. My main gig is literally holding people's feet to the fire on their biggest creative bucket list projects - for example, if you tell me you will finish a project by June 30 and you miss the deadline, you pay $666 to a charity you hate.

It's fun to make my living helping other people finish their things. But I struggle deeply with holding myself accountable for my own work.

I have an unfinished album, a half-assed podcast idea, and several business offerings I have yet to launch.

It feels completely ironic. Or maybe it just makes perfect sense.

I have to tell myself that it's unfair to ask a personal trainer to be their own personal trainer. It is unfair to ask a therapist to be their own therapist. And naturally, it is unfair to ask a creative accountability coach to be her own coach.

That's why we need community. We need each other.

I am a singer-songwriter. A few years ago, I released an EP called Part-Time Agnostic. I started to write a bit on a Substack under that same name. I even partnered with a fellow Epiphany Space member to throw a house concert in LA that was like church for the unchurched.

It was awesome. But then I just ran out of steam. I put the project on the back burner. I kept putting all my personal projects on the back burner.

I am ready to pick up that brand again. I have ideas for podcasts, TikToks, and more music centered around the deconstruction-reconstruction theme, and more house concerts.

But I needed a stronger deadline than one I could just assign myself. I needed actual consequences for my own work. I needed to do exactly what I tell my clients to do.

So here is how I am doing it. I am externalizing my deadlines. I am booking body-doubling coworking sessions on a website called Focusmate to force myself to sit down and do the work. I am using my own communities (like Epiphany Space and The Creative Spirals!) to coordinate different projects and bounce around topics.

I also heard May 29 is known as Release Day in the CreativeMornings community.

That is as good a deadline as any!

There are more details about it here: https://creativemornings.com/releaseday

So, whether you officially sign up for Release Day, think about making May 29th a deadline you can use for your own creative projects.

As for me, I think I'm going to release a project I've been wanting to work on for years. I'm calling it a minimum-viable podcast. We'll see how it goes!

What about you? What's your big bucket-list project you want to release soon?

Together We Thrive REWIND

Wed, 22 Apr 2026 01:24:14 GMT

Together We Thrive

By Shelby Bond

You know that feeling when the LAST thing you want to do is be around other people? Sometimes that’s because you really need to be around other people. Sure, there are times when you gotta go solo to refuel or self-care. But sometimes what we are really craving is connection.

There is a synergy that happens when we are around others. That’s why coworking spaces exist. Well, that and it can be hard to get any work done if you could make yourself a sandwich instead. But many of us learned during the pandemic lockdown that if you don’t connect with others, it can be very easy to stagnate. Watching TV can be so engrossing that you can look up and realize that you’ve puttered months away. But time with other people? That’s when things happen.

Here's an example. My friend Derek REALLY didn’t want to go out, but he admitted he probably needed to and asked me to nudge him (that’s what friends are for). He’s a devout introvert and didn’t want to be at the party. All evening he hung back and didn’t talk to anyone.

“I just feel so awkward. What do I even say?”

So, I offered this. “Before the end of the night just walk up to one person and be honest as you say, ‘Hi, I’m Derek, and I’m awkward at parties.’”

He protested but agreed and right before we were about to leave, he did just that. The person laughed, introduced themselves, and agreed that they felt the same way. We stayed at the party for another hour while the two laughed and talked.

10 YEARS LATER THEY ARE STILL FRIENDS!

We need connection. We need to be pushed when we might give up on ourselves. So, half of the lesson from this is—put yourself out there.

The other half is deeper.

It’s the fact that being open, letting down our walls, and being honest about who we are and how we feel doesn’t scare people away-- it draws them to us.

You see—THAT WHICH IS MOST PERSONAL IS MOST UNIVERSAL.

Read that again. The things that we hide the most, the things we think are going to leave us scared and alone are the best way to connect with others. Because they probably feel the exact same way. Having the courage to reveal the things that scare us, excite us, the things that make us US brings others closer.

Humans crave community (even if we hate social gatherings). That’s why there are churches, Masons, and fraternities. We get more done; there’s more momentum to life. And it can be easier to look out for others than ourselves; we have more perspective for someone else’s situation than our own. If only we’ll listen to our friends the next time they say we deserve better than the person we are dating! We’ll work on that one. But having people around us creates a system of support— be it meeting up for taco Tuesdays or a crew from around the world we play a video game with. Life means more together, even for introverts.

I do belong to a coworking group. I joined because I was working on my MFA thesis, and I was ABSOLUTELY failing at getting it done. I’d sit around at home and think about it and how I should be doing it. I’d be disciplined and not have the television on or not let myself make snacks.

I’d focus. And it sucked. Even though the topic interested me tremendously.

I like writing! But nothing was coming out. I joined a coworking space and got more done on the first day there than I had in two weeks alone. Here’s the weird thing— I hadn’t even talked to anyone yet. I was just in a room with other people.

That makes no sense! But it worked.

Just being around others created an energy, a spark, that got my engine going. Eventually, I got around to asking people things instead of Googling them and the conversations started; creating fire from those sparks. My paper wasn’t really writing itself; it was as alive as the space between people, and it was waiting to be captured like paint hitting a canvas. To continue that metaphor, you could wave around paint-covered brushes all day but unless they make a connection with something the colors never get seen.

With others you get seen, your presence is felt as you feel them.

I’m a theatre creator and I’ve found something crazy. I could write and rehearse a play for years, thinking of every possible scenario from every angle and the show would STILL change when it was performed in front of an audience; with things I would have never thought of in a thousand years of work alone. How can that be?!

I’m not talking about after a Q&A where people offer ideas afterward or something. I mean the moment it’s performed in front of people there is something in the air that is inexplicable that makes new things happen. I suppose you must be open to hearing them. The performers could ignore all the magical in-the-air energy from the audience and just do what they had practiced but if they are listening to what the audience is giving them: laughter, applause, sniffs, and coughs, it WILL change. There may be a change in how lines are delivered, spaces for words to breathe, or if the situation allows, fully new lines may come out of the air. Just from being in the room with new people.

Together we thrive. There is a kind of magic that happens when we aren’t alone.

So the next time your couch calls out to you but you know you need more, walk up to that stranger and say something like, “I told my friend that I would get off my couch tonight and say hi to one person. Hi.”

Rediscovering Our Creative Playground at Epiphany Space

Wed, 15 Apr 2026 18:28:25 GMT

Rediscovering Our Creative Playground at Epiphany Space
By Suzanne Yada

Once upon a time, we were tiny artists with big imaginations, turning kitchen tables into art studios and Lego blocks into castles. We didn’t worry about the end result; we just dove into the mess headfirst, relishing every colorful splatter and wonky tower. Somewhere along the way, though, we traded that childlike wonder for… something else. I don't know how to put my finger on it, but it's more than just the adult needs to pay bills and meet deadlines.

Sure, those of us in Hollywood might be living in the creative capital of the world, but it’s easy to get caught up in the hustle and forget why we create in the first place. We've lost the connection with the act of play, just to play. We may dream of careers that incorporate our creative skills, but that still has a goal, an outcome, a deadline.

In short, we have turned play into something that feels an awful lot like work. No wonder so many of us feel blocked!

It's why I came up with The Creative Spirals Method: a simple three-step approach designed to help you embrace the creative process in all its messy glory, to look at creativity with a beginner's mindset, to recapture the childlike wonder of those finger paints. And it starts with one of my favorite things: a S-P-I-R-A-L.

S = Start with What You've Got
The first step is deceptively simple: start with what you've got. That means diving headfirst into your current surroundings, situation, resources, and ideas. You don't have to reach far, but so many artists forget to look right under their noses for inspiration. If you're a musician, use the beat of your heart for your tempo. If you're a painter, notice a shade of color within your eyesight. It's about recognizing that every masterpiece starts with simply observing what is around us.

P = Play with the Variables
Next, it's time to play with the variables. This step encourages you to take what you've got and switch up just an element or two. What if you used gouache instead of acrylic to match that color shade you see? Or what if you add a bassline idea to that heartbeat of yours? Creativity thrives on experimentation, and this step encourages you to mix things up, one little element at a time.

I = Follow Your Interest
As you explore, pay attention to what piques your interest. Yours, not anyone else's. Not whether this will advance your career or please someone else. Just your own interest. This is where the magic happens. That bassline could give birth to a melody, and that color could make way for an interesting shape. By following your curiosity, you align your work with your passions and artistry, creating a process that's fulfilling, fun, and 100% you.

Once you've got your interest pinpointed, then you can take it to the beginning again: Start with what you've got. Then play with the variables. Then follow your interest, again and again.

Those are the three main steps for The Creative Spiral Method, and they actually form a spiral. If you remember nothing else but the S-P-I steps, congratulations, you have one more tool in your creativity toolkit. But the R-A-L part of the spiral are quick and specific techniques in case you get stuck or lose momentum:

R = Randomness

Try opening a book to a random page, flipping a coin, or hitting shuffle on your Spotify. It could be a prompt to your next step in the work you're creating.

A = Accountability

Have a friend or mentor keep you on track with feedback and deadlines. That's why most of my students come back time and time again to my 8-week songwriting courses: they need that weekly deadline.

L = Let it be

Sometimes we just need to give ourselves and our ideas a rest. It's OK. Put it up on the shelf and take it down later when it's time. Just remember it's there.

But The Creative Spirals Method isn't a solo journey: it's about connecting with fellow creatives who understand the ups and downs of the creative process. From body doubling with The Creative Spirals online Focusmate Group at thecreativespirals.com to joining Epiphany Space online coworking sessions on Mighty Networks, you'll find accountability and camaraderie among kindred spirits.

The People Who Do Things

Wed, 08 Apr 2026 15:26:55 GMT

The People Who Do Things
By Steven W. Alloway

My mother and I frequently like to muse that there are two types of people in this world. There are those who, when there’s something around them that needs to be done, will ignore it, or perhaps not notice it at all. And then there are those who do see the need: the ones who can’t help but notice that there’s something lacking and will step up and do it.

We call the people in the latter category, “The People Who Do Things.” My mother and I have always considered us to be among the People Who Do Things and frequently lament that so many tasks fall on us, just because we’re the only ones willing to step up—or indeed, the only ones to notice that they need doing at all.

We’re not the only People Who Do Things, of course, but we are a rare breed, and others like us often seem to be few and far between. That’s what I’ve always thought, at least. Lately, though, some things have happened in my life to alter my perspective. What, exactly, does it mean to be one of the People Who Do Things? And are we really as rare as all that?

Getting Complacent

When my mother and I talk about The People Who Do Things, one of the areas we’re usually talking about is our respective churches. Everywhere we look, there’s something that needs to be done, that should get done, that USED to get done… But that nobody’s doing. Who’s going to step up and do it? Well, at my mom’s church, it’s often her, and at my church, it tends to be me. Because if we don’t… Who will?

There are a few others who will. At my church, there’s one couple in particular who are always eager to help out with anything they can. From the moment they first started attending, they got involved. He joined the music group. She started putting together the church bulletin every week. He served on the church council (our church’s governing body) and very quickly became council president. She took over keeping the church stocked with basic necessities like paper plates, plastic forks, paper towels, toilet paper…

And then last year they moved away. All of a sudden, everything they did, every job they’d taken on in nine years of church membership, had to be filled by someone else. They helped us, of course. Fortunately, there were a few tasks they could still do from afar, and they agreed to continue, at least for a few months, while we got things sorted and put an alternate plan into place. For all the rest, we spent an entire Sunday figuring out who needed to do what, dividing up the jobs amongst the other People Who Do Things.

It was an eye-opening experience. I knew that they did a lot in our church, but until that Sunday, I never realized exactly how much. All of these things just sort of got done, week after week. And I, a self-proclaimed Person Who Does Things, never really bothered to consider how or by whom.

The List Goes On

Even after dividing up all the tasks, it became clear over the next few weeks and months that that was only the tip of the iceberg. There were still more things that needed to be done—not just picking up the slack for our departing Power Couple, but things other people in the church used to do, who had since left or passed on.

It turned out, there was nobody left with full administrative access to the church’s Facebook page anymore. I’d been given limited access by our former pastor, but he had since left as well. Plus, there were events people used to plan, things that people used to provide, even some basic maintenance and upkeep. As our church lost more and more of our People Who Do Things… Who was left to do all of these things?

Upholding Traditions

The times when our church’s deficit of People Who Do Things became most apparent were holidays. If something only happens once a year, it’s easy to forget about it. Until suddenly, you turn around, and that thing that always happens isn’t happening anymore, because the person in charge of it is no longer around.

Thanksgiving: Who’s planning the annual potluck dinner? Advent: Who’s lighting the candles? Christmas: Who’s helping out at the Christmas Eve service? Are we even having one this year? Is anybody going to come to it?

Which brings us to the last few weeks: Lent, Holy Week, and Easter. A time filled with traditions, rituals, and observances for any church. So who’s carrying them out? Whose job is it to make sure we do all the things we’ve always done? And what if it’s someone who’s not here anymore?

Some of those traditions, our church decided we just don’t have the capacity for right now. Evening services on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are a bit much to ask of our aging, semi-retired, unpaid pastor. So we decided instead to partner with another Lutheran church in the area, which was holding services not just for those two days, but also for Maundy Thursday, and even mid-week services on Wednesdays throughout Lent—something our church hasn’t been able to do for many years. So anyone in our congregation wanting the full Lenten and Holy Week experience could just head up the street a bit. Problem solved.

A Problem of Palms

Our church would still, of course, hold our traditional Palm Sunday service. Our pastor reminded us of this the week before. “Next Sunday is Palm Sunday,” he said. “So, everybody be sure to bring in palm branches.”

Wait a minute… What do you mean “bring in” palm branches? I’ve never heard of that before. Palm branches are something the church provides. Big branches for decoration, small branches for carrying and waving. They’re there when we come in. They’re handed to us at the door. Come to think of it, I don’t actually know where they come from…

Turns out, in our church, for the last few years, they’ve come from the next-door neighbor of our resident Power Couple, who are no longer local and no longer have him as a neighbor. So our church no longer has palm branches for Palm Sunday.

And then, of course, a week after that, there’s another important, seasonal tradition to contend with: the Easter Breakfast. A staple of my church for as long as I can remember, it was always the domain of Leo: one of the most beloved and respected members of our congregation, a (retired) professional baker and certified Person Who Did Things. He would arrive at church at 6 AM on Easter morning and make eggs, sausage, hashbrowns… Not to mention homemade bread, rolls, bagels, and more, which he’d been working on in the days leading up to Easter.

Leo passed away a couple of years ago. The Easter Breakfast is just one of the many, many things impacted by his absence. Another member of our congregation has taken over breakfast duties now, and his eggs and hashbrowns are great… But it’s just not the big event that it was when Leo was around.

Doing Things

It was clear to me this Easter season that if things were going to get done in my church, somebody would have to step up. And being a self-proclaimed member of the People Who Do Things… I guess it would have to be me.

As it happens, my front yard has multiple palm trees at various levels of maturity. There’s one with big, fanlike palm branches, and another with small, wavy leaves. Both at eye level, easy to trim.

As it also happens, I’m pretty handy in the kitchen. I’m not at the level that Leo was. But I’ve got a few breakfast dishes up my sleeve.

And so it was clear what I had to do. Palm Sunday, I arrived bright and early with a trunk full of palm leaves and palm branches. Easter Sunday, I arrived even earlier (and much less bright), with a car full of bread, coffee cake, homemade jam, and more. Even if no one else was willing to step up, our church would have what we needed, courtesy of one of the People Who Do Things.

Stepping Up

So what’s the point of this story? To talk about how I’m a superhero who saved the day? Who single-handedly kept the church going in its time of need? While that’s not why I volunteered to do the things I did, I’d be lying if I said that thought didn’t cross my mind.

But here’s the thing: When I got to church on Palm Sunday, there was already a small pile of palm branches in front of the church, from other members who had brought them from their trees. And as more people arrived, even more branches joined the pile. Plus enough leaves for each of us to be able to wave at least two or three, if we wanted.

And on Easter morning, as I worked in the church kitchen to make a breakfast worthy of Leo’s legacy… other people brought in a host of breakfast items of their own, from rolls to English muffins to fruit plates to coffee and orange juice. It was the biggest spread we’ve had since Leo’s death. Not only that, there were people there to set out plates and forks, put tablecloths on the tables, set up chafing dishes to keep the food warm, and a dozen other necessary things that I never would have thought to do.

Working Together

That’s what this whole experience made me realize. I’ve always prided myself on being of the People Who Do Things. But when it comes down to it, we’re all People Who Do Things. But we all do different things. Which means we all have blind spots, too: the things that we ignore or don’t notice, because they’re not part of the Things we generally do.

While we’re dutifully doing our Things, while grumbling that we’re the only ones who actually do anything around here… Someone else is out there doing those other Things, and perhaps even wondering the same thing. And all the while, the only way anything really gets done is if we all pitch in.

You can have those one or two People Who Do Things trying to shoulder the load or pick up the slack in doing what needs to be done. You may even try to be one of those people yourself. But nobody can do it all alone. And the more you try to do, the harder it will be without you.

Even my church’s decision not to host our own Lent or Holy Week services… It felt at the time like a defeat. Don’t even try, just send everybody somewhere else. But it turned out to be a great lesson in community. We could have had our overworked pastor put together a couple of small services, aided by one or two of the People Who Do Things. It would have had the basic elements of a standard, bare bones Ash Wednesday or Good Friday service.

Instead, we joined with a group that has the resources to really do it right—to do all the things that we couldn’t, and to provide truly meaningful and dynamic services, for both their congregation and ours. And in so doing, foster collaboration and community between us that will hopefully allow us both to do more and greater things going forward.

We all need each other, and we all work better together than separately. To make Palm Sunday happen, or Easter breakfast, it didn’t just take me, or our Power Couple, or any other single person, taking on the weight of the world. It took all of us, working together. And when we did that, we were able to make something truly extraordinary.

Essential R.E.M. | April 2026 Playlist

Wed, 01 Apr 2026 15:21:55 GMT

Check out our April mixtape, inner Critic, to SPARK your creativity!

An exploration of the best songs from the golden age of R.E.M.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

You Don’t Find Community, You Build It: 8 Ways to Start Connecting With People

Wed, 01 Apr 2026 14:50:32 GMT

You Don’t Find Community, You Build It: 8 Ways to Start Connecting With People
By Becky Murdoch

Ok, ya’ll, if you’ve been reading The Spark , you know I just moved back to Detroit.

In some ways, Detroit feels like home. I have a few friends here and all of my family. I know how to get around (mostly) without GPS. I have my favorite spots in my neighborhood. It’s familiar.

And in other ways… it’s not home at all.

Right now it’s cold and gray. My friends here aren’t my everyday friends, the ones I have group chats with about movies and dinner. I don’t have a mechanic here yet (and yes, I absolutely cried when I left my Burbank mechanic for the last time…I think he cried too…no regrets).

I’m from here. But I don’t have a current community here.

My cousin might disagree. I’ve been back for about three weeks, and we’ve already gone out twice. Both times, I ran into people I know. So clearly, there’s something here. Threads. Loose connections. The beginnings of something.

But that’s kind of the point.

Community doesn’t just exist fully formed. It’s something you build.

This isn’t just about moving to a new city.

Even if you stay in the same place your whole life, community can shift. People move. Lives change. Priorities evolve. And suddenly, the thing that once felt effortless takes intention.

The good news?

I’m not starting from zero.

Thankfully, I have my Epiphany Space community.

That means I already have:

People I can check in with weekly
Creative accountability
Conversations that go deeper than mundane small talk
A sense of belonging that isn’t tied to a physical location

It’s been a lifeline for me over the last month!

When you feel connected somewhere, it makes it easier to find community in other areas of your life.

Epiphany Space is the anchor. Real life is going to be a little adventure.

So, if you just moved or just need to shake things up a bit, here are some ways I’m thinking about it right now:

1. JOIN A CLASS

A class gets you out of the house. A class keeps you showing up consistently.

You go to the same place every week where you’ll see the same people. Pretty soon that spot you choose to put your yoga mat, leads to a conversation. The conversation leads to a coffee after class. Boom. You have your new BFF!

Personally, I’m debating a belly dancing class or pilates. Will I be good? Irrelevant. Will I meet people? Of course!

2. Find Your Coffee Shop

Not a coffee shop. Your coffee shop.

Maybe someplace local. Visit the same place a couple of times a week with your computer and sunny personality, and the baristas will know you in no time. They might even remember your drink order. You stop being a stranger.

I’ve been working from the library lately, which I love, but I think I need a hybrid approach. A couple days at the library, a couple days at a coffee shop where I can actually interact with people.

Like Cheers , community expands when everybody starts to know your name.

3. Attend Smaller Events

Ok, the key here is small events. Big events are fun. But they’re also easy to go unnoticed.

If your goal is connection, smaller events are where it’s at. Workshops, panels, open mics, creative gatherings. Places where conversation is part of the experience, not an interruption.

When I first moved to Nashville, I used to go to ANYTHING music-related. Shows, of course, but also record store events, festivals. I still have friends that I met in lines at autograph signings. I doubt I still have the autographs.

4. Volunteer

What’s a cause you’re passionate about? Or even just care about a little? Volunteering is a great way to meet people who care about the same things that you do.

Instead of just making small talk, you get to partner with potential new friends toward a shared goal. It’s a different energy.

Check local organizations and community boards; you’re sure to find something to pique your interest.

5. Join a Club

Classes are great, but clubs go deeper.

Book clubs. Record clubs. Knitting clubs.

These spaces ask you to show up and share something. Your thoughts, your opinions, your perspective.

That little layer of vulnerability? That’s where connection starts to stick.

6. Host Something Yourself

Okay, this one is a little bold. And definitely not for everyone. But it can work.

A craft night. A writing night. A movie hang.

This can start with just one other person. Years ago, at Epiphany Space, one of our members wanted to start a song circle. I showed up with her every week until she got a group of regulars going! Can’t find what you’re looking for. Start it yourself!

(Epiphany Space is looking for Collective hosts in other cities, let us know if you’re interested and we’ll help you set up a group!)

7. Say Yes (At Least at the Beginning)

It’s easy to get overwhelmed when you’re on the adventure of meeting new people but it’s important to remember to say YES when opportunities come your way.

A casual invite. A group hang. A “you should come to this.”

Say yes. We all need rest, but don’t let that become your default. Sometimes getting up and getting out will give us the energy we need. (I’m also aware that I’m saying this as an extra-extrovert…so…do what works for you.)

Right now, you’re planting seeds. You will never meet anyone if you’re default is always “no.”

I have to really put this one into action; I think my mom set me up on a play-date with her friend’s daughter who also just moved back to town. I rolled my eyes so hard when my mom got back from the grocery store but who knows, I might find a new friend.

8. Start With a Creative Community

Okay, here’s the pitch for Epiphany Space. I know you were waiting for it…. Join something like Epiphany Space.

It’s a lot easier to walk into the world when you already feel seen somewhere.

Epiphany Space gives you:

A consistent place to show up
People who are also looking for connection
Conversation beyond small talk
Opportunities to collaborate and grow

And for a lot of people, it becomes the bridge to in-person relationships. Online doesn’t replace real life. It supports it.

At the end of the day, community isn’t something you stumble into.

It’s something you build through small, repeated moments. Showing up, saying hi and then repeating that again.

It’s slow. It’s imperfect.

But it’s happening.

And that’s how community begins.

Where the Voice Comes From, or Increase Your Sample Size for Better Results

Tue, 24 Mar 2026 17:23:36 GMT

Where the Voice Comes From, or Increase Your Sample Size for Better Results
By Steven W. Alloway

A couple of years ago, I had a bit of a revelation regarding my inner critic—which I affectionately refer to as The Voice. I thought at the time that it was something unique to me, but I’ve since heard it from others as well. In fact, it seems to be fairly universal. And so I’d like to share it with all of you: a bit of insight into the origin of The Voice and how it interacts with that other inner voice: the voice of positivity and encouragement.

THE WARRING VOICES
The positive voice, the one that says, “You can do it!” The one that says, “This is amazing!” That’s your voice. That comes straight from your inner artist, getting excited for the work and taking pride in what you’ve done.

But the voice telling you that you can’t? The voice that picks apart everything you do and explains in great detail why it’s not good enough? That voice is other people: friends, colleagues, audience members, even strangers you met in passing. They experienced your work at one point and had something to say about it that wasn’t what you were hoping for. And now you carry those voices with you.

When you were a kid, before those other voices came along, you thought you could do anything. More than thought, you assumed you could do anything. You had no reason to think anything else. So you threw yourself wholeheartedly into everything you did, confident that it would be nothing short of magnificent.

And then someone told you that it wasn’t. A parent, a teacher, a friend… Or, more than likely, all three, at one point or another in your life.

Maybe they completely tore into you with insults and vitriol, or maybe they just had a remark that was a shade harsher than you were prepared for. Maybe they were just dismissive and didn’t seem to care about this thing you threw yourself into with such gusto.

Whatever it was, slowly but surely, those remarks began to take root, to chip away at your youthful exuberance. Until eventually, you find that “You can do it!” has been replaced with “No, you can’t,” and instead of “This is amazing!” all you hear is “This is terrible.”

THE NECESSITY OF CRITICISM
Of course, bringing those voices in to counter your inner artist is not an entirely bad thing. Your inner critic is a necessary part of the creative process. As incredible as that “do anything” feeling is, it needs to be tempered. Have you ever met anyone who’s never been told no? Never been told they can’t, or that something about their work just isn’t right? They’re insufferable. And more than that, they can’t grow or evolve. With no one to point out their mistakes, they can’t learn anything, can’t improve, can’t move forward.

On some level, your inner critic gives you a sense of self-awareness that helps you strive to do the best work you can. The problem is, your inner critic is also a dirty liar. It will convince you that if it’s NOT your best, then it’s the worst. And even if it IS your best, it’s still not good enough.

The positive voice tells you that you’ve done something great. But you know what? It’s told you that before. And then someone came along to put you in your place. Followed by another someone and another and another, over the years. What would all of those people say if they saw what you’re doing now? Would you measure up to their standard, or would you fall short again?

All of those voices pile up to form one Voice that continually tells you you’re not good enough. And as those outside voices get added to your inner Voice, they become distorted. A casual, dismissive comment can be seen as a glaring indictment through the funhouse mirror of your subconscious.

Then over time, it becomes a condemnation of your entire creative approach, your talent as an artist, or even your worthiness to call yourself an artist at all. The answer to the question, “What would those people say about your current work?” may well be, “They’d love it,” but The Voice won’t let you believe that.

INCREASE YOUR SAMPLE SIZE
So, in light of all of this, what can you do? Knowing where the Voice comes from and how it works, how can you get it under control? How can you put things into perspective, to separate legitimate criticism from the feelings of unworthiness and inferiority? You have to increase your sample size. In other words, you have to invite more criticism.

It can be a terrifying thought. Especially when you’re blindsided by negative feedback or bad reviews, it can be difficult to put yourself out there and risk inviting more of the same. But the problem is, if you don’t put yourself and your art out there, then your inner critic ends up being the only voice you have to rely on—and we’ve already established that you can’t rely on it.

The more people you show your work to, the more friends you ask for advice, the more places you submit to, the more voices you’ll have to add to the chorus. If you can get positive feedback and genuine, constructive criticism to help you improve, it will go a long way towards building a healthier view of your work. Sure, somebody last year told you that they didn’t like your art. But somebody just last week told you that they did!

TAKING THE BAD WITH THE GOOD
Of course, inviting more criticism does mean inviting more of those negative voices as well. And they will come. No matter what you do, there will always be some there. Some people just won’t get what you do and will decide that, therefore, it must be bad. Some people will brag that they pride themselves on “telling it like it is,” and hide behind that seemingly noble trait as they rip you apart with malicious glee. And some people are just trolls, who hurl the vilest insults they can think of, just because… I actually don’t know why they do it. But they do, and nothing you say or do can stop them.

Every time you put your work out there, you open yourself up to that kind of harmful negativity. The only way to avoid it is to keep your art hidden away from any and all public scrutiny. And, as we’ve established, that’s a good way to become insufferable and never grow or evolve as an artist.

But increasing your sample size has two benefits in that regard. First of all, even as the bad criticism increases, the good criticism does too. So when those voices do come around to tell you how terrible you are, you have more tools in your arsenal to combat them. This person hated it? Sure, maybe, but these people loved it. This total stranger thought it had problems? Perhaps, but several friends had ideas for how to fix them.

As I’ve talked about before, this does take a bit of practice. It’s easy to get bogged down in the negative comments, even when there are more of the positive ones. But the more you put yourself out there, the more you can train yourself in which feedback to focus on, which to keep with you, and which to discard.

EMBRACING REJECTION
Which brings us to our second benefit: the more negative criticism you get, the more anesthetized you’ll become to it.

An indie author I follow set a goal a few years ago: to get 100 rejections in one calendar year. It seems a bit odd on the surface. Why make rejection the goal? But the point was to submit her work, consistently and relentlessly, to as many places as possible, without getting discouraged and without giving up.

When you pour your heart and soul into something, and it doesn’t make the cut, it can be devastating. When people pass on it again and again, it can be demoralizing. What’s the point in sending it out if you know nobody wants it? But if you factor rejection into your goals, then every time another “No” comes in, instead of a disappointment, it’s a step forward. Put another tally mark on the wall and move on to the next submission.

I don’t remember if she actually reached her goal of 100 rejections or not. I sort of lost track of her journey after a while. But I do remember that several of her pieces that she submitted during that time got accepted into various publications. Which wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been able to shrug off those rejections and keep submitting, again and again.

The same is true of any negative criticism. The more of it you invite in, the easier it is to deal with. Like chefs working over a hot stove, you grab a pot or pan without a potholder, you get burned, and it hurts a lot. But after months and years of working in a kitchen, those burns turn into blisters, and eventually, you can move the hot pots and pans around like they’re nothing. You just need to keep at it and work through it.

So even when it’s painful, keep putting yourself out there and inviting the voices in. The more and the longer you do it, the better-equipped you’ll be to sort through them, keeping the ones that are useful and throwing away the ones that aren’t. Eventually, the sting will dull. And instead of making you feel inferior and unworthy, you can wear those negative criticisms like a badge of honor, knowing your persistence through them was what led you to something you could be truly proud of.

The Relentlessness of Resistance and How to Beat It for Good

Wed, 18 Mar 2026 18:07:13 GMT

The Relentlessness of Resistance and How to Beat It for Good

By Dennis Ricci

Epiphany Space is focusing this month to going after that most insidious, relentless enemy of creativity, the inner critic. The inner voice that’s not you, it’s an echo of your past, of all the words spoken over you that you’re work isn’t good enough, original enough, whatever enough. And the assault is not against your work. It’s against you, against me, the walking, talking, breathing imago Dei who was born to create.

I’m writing this article to myself, so I’m inviting you into a slice of my creative story, one that in some seasons feels like a victory lap and others like being moored in creative quicksand. Times when brilliance flows from my mind to my fingers to the screen, and times when, well, the incredibly horrible first draft shows up on the page, work so bad that it screams at you to walk away from the keyboard and never come back. Or worse—thankfully, this one’s rare—I sit for hours, and nothing gets on the page at all.

The Sneakiest Manifestation of the Inner Critic

I have a compelling vision for my art, which is writing novels. It’s not the be-all-end-all of my life, but it is a mission from God, and it’s permanently pinned to the top of my vocational works list. Everything else needs to fit around it.

Every morning I wake up, grab a cup of coffee, and spend 30-60 minutes reviewing my carefully curated news feed for updates on events I consider important. When I decide my mind is alert enough to begin my day, I spend time in prayer with my wife and get going.

And then, the sneaky manifestation comes...the tension between wanting to get in the chair and write like a champion and the rapid arrival of “reasons” why not to do the things I tell myself I want to do. The phenomenon so universal among creatives, given names like block, silent muse, dry spell.

Get real, Ricci. It’s PROCRASTINATION. Putting off to later what I know in my heart I want to do now.

Some days, I justify putting off writing because of my untended pile of “lesser” duties and urgent matters, like bookkeeping, quarterly estimated tax payments, email content for our ministry, and the need to give daily attention to my precious tomato garden. Other times it’s the realization that I’ve neglected to make a real plan for my day. The worst one? It’s straight-up “I don’t want to” or “I don’t feel like doing it.” I’m tired, beat down by all the must-dos of life, and just want to veg out.

Am I the only one?

My struggle is not with perfectionism. One of my core values is excellence, which I define as doing my personal best at whatever I do. Writing was the first skill upon which my value for excellence was built, going back to my early years in advertising. When I had the privilege of a two-year stint at Chiat/Day, where founder Jay Chiat’s motto was “good enough is not enough,” it became an unshakeable foundation and permeated everything else that I do.

If I have a high value for excellence and don’t battle perfectionism, then why do I procrastinate?

The Fear that Fuels Procrastination

People who’ve devoted their lives to understanding human behavior like to start with the brain, and there is physiology involved. Adversity triggers a conflict between two competing brain systems: the limbic—emotionally-driven, threat-detecting, comfort-seeking, and the prefrontal cortex, center of long-term planning and commitment to goals. Limbic moves much faster, and it’s the doorway to the thoughts that lead to procrastination.

But our brain isn’t fully autonomous. Our soul—mind, will, emotions—is its governor. Our will is in charge. What opens the door to giving in to our limbic impulses—allowing them to influence our choices—is another fear, related to perfectionism, that fuels creative procrastination: what your creative work represents . And who .

If you’re making art to put into the world, that work will be judged. Criticized. You sign up for it.

What we create is intensely personal. It represents us. Just like God’s creation declares who He is. And the world is brutal about lumping together its criticism of creative work with the person who created it. If the art is quality, so is the person, and vice versa. Procrastination thus becomes an exchange of shame —enduring the lesser shame of delay in order to avoid the more dreadful shame of producing something others say is no good.

If a person derives their core identity from what they do, the brutality of external criticism becomes deeply traumatic. It turns into self-talk that sounds something like, “ Everyone who matters says my work sucks...why do I bother? I have no value. ”

What to do?

What Needs to Happen

What helps me is to change the way I respond to the limbic impulses to procrastinate by reframing what I’m responding to. I titled this article The Relentlessness of Resistance and How to Beat it for Good. Procrastination is a response to opposition, resistance—something that I need to overcome in order to do the thing I want to do, which is write and write prolifically.

Opposition and resistance describe something that is necessary for people to grow and mature into the person who God imagines them to be. Adversity .

I believe God designed adversity into our lives as the primary engine of growth. Overcoming adversity activates the best parts of us. It benefits us. Look around creation. Look at yourself. Grapevines that struggle for water produce the best wines. Muscles grow through resistance training. Competition brings out the best in athletes and businesses.

Adversity is good, but its value has been grossly distorted. People will avoid any form of adversity as long as possible, until it costs more than facing up to it. Advertising has conditioned the world to think this way. What’s your pain? Have we got the solution for you! Until the next pain shows up...

What I’ve come to realize is that unless I choose to view opposition, resistance, and adversity as something good, procrastination will win.

Psychologists and creatives have identified two types of procrastination—passive and active. Passive procrastination is the crippling kind, filled with indecision, anxiety, and loss of self-control that compounds and makes things worse. Active procrastination is strategic—you delay completion because you know you work better under pressure, yet they consistently meet deadlines. There’s also a version that looks like procrastination but is actually a valuable part of the creative process—incubation, allowing ideas or partially completed work to rest, giving you opportunity to reimagine and refine before resuming the work.

How I’m Learning to Beat Resistance for Good

I use active procrastination from time to time, giving my work a rest and coming back to it a few days later. One of two things happens—I find it’s better than I thought, or I see more clearly how to make it better than I could while in the middle of writing.

But passive procrastination is still a challenge, and that’s where I’m working on seeing the opposition within or outside as a necessary part of my creative journey. Ironically, one of the characters in my current work in progress is an entrepreneur who became successful by practicing what he calls continuous formative adversity—building adversity into his own life and in his company in order to become the best they can be.

Interesting how a character born from your own imagination ends up teaching you something you need.

So, the way to beat resistance—procrastination—for good? First, accept and embrace that resistance is good. Second, practice metanoia —changing your thinking about resistance each day. Third, start practicing saying no to putting your work off and doing it. Give yourself grace at first. Experience small wins. Build momentum. Eventually, it will become a value.

Beating resistance for good happens by embracing it as an ally instead of fighting it as an opponent . Forging it into a partner, like a blacksmith forges hot iron into useful tools. Beating it for good—my good.

I welcome your feedback, and I invite you to ask me how I’m doing in my own journey to embrace adversity.

From Self-Sabotage to Self-Trust: 8 Small Mindset Practices for Creatives

Wed, 11 Mar 2026 18:27:18 GMT

From Self-Sabotage to Self-Trust: 8 Small Mindset Practices for Creatives
By Becky Murdoch

When is the last time your inner critic took a day off? Can’t remember? Yeah, neither can I. It shows up right when you open a blank document, pick up a paintbrush, or sit down at the piano. It comes in with opinions about everything. Your tates, your output, your audacity for even trying. Honestly, it will probably never fully go away, but we can stop letting it run the show.

These nine practices won’t silence the critic, but they can make it much quieter.

1. Notice and Track the Trigger

Anyone else have the little voice that says, “Someone is already doing this, so what’s the point?” or “They’re probably doing it better than I would.” Just me?

Whatever your inner critic says to you, I bet that voice gets loudest in very specific moments, and we’re often too caught up in the spiral to notice the pattern. Maybe it hits when you’re exhausted. Maybe it shows up right before you share your work, that terrifying moment just before you hit send. Or maybe, like many of us, it arrives courtesy of a doomscroll through Instagram, where everyone else’s highlight reel makes your in-progress work feel suddenly embarrassing.

Here’s the practice: keep a tiny log. Not a journal, just a note on your phone. When the critic gets loud, jot down what was happening. Were you tired? Comparing? About to be vulnerable? Over time, patterns emerge, and patterns can be worked with. Noticing isn’t a cure, but it’s the first move toward not being ambushed.

2. Call It a Draft

This one is a small but mighty reframe: rename everything you make “a draft” until you consciously decide it’s done. Not “my painting.” Not “my novel.” A draft.

Drafts are allowed to be messy, unresolved, and weird. That’s literally their job description. When you call something a draft, you give yourself permission to keep going instead of defending every choice. The inner critic loves a finished thing. It has almost nothing to say to a draft.

3. Make the Goal “Interesting,” Not “Good”

What if “good” is a trap?

There’s a book called “Good to Great” by Jim Collins that I read forever ago. The opening line is “Good is the enemy of great.” I’m paraphrasing, but the basic concept of the book was that we never get great because we settle for good. I kind of think it works in reverse, too. What if we never explore because we feel the need to always be “as good as” whoever or whatever we are comparing ourselves to?

In both cases, good is vague, it’s comparative, and it hands the inner critic a gavel and a podium. Who decides what’s good? By whose standard? Good compared to what?

“Interesting,” on the other hand, is curious. It leans in. Something can be technically rough and still be interesting; in fact, the rough parts are often exactly what make it so. Try swapping your goal before you sit down to create: not “I want this to be good,” but “I want this to be interesting.” Notice how differently your hands move.

4. The Two-Minute Maker Check-In

What if, before you start a creative session, pause for two minutes and ask yourself one question: “What am I hoping to feel when I’m done?”

Not “what do I hope to produce,” what do you hope to feel? Relieved? Energized? Proud? A little more like yourself? This tiny ritual anchors your session to joy and intention rather than output and judgment. It also gives you a way to assess the session that has nothing to do with whether the work is “good.” You set out to feel energized. Did you? Then it worked.

I wonder if this would work for a bedtime routine. Like, I hope to feel awake and energized when I wake up. I might give that a try tonight.

5. The “I Made a Thing” Text

Pick one person in your life, a friend, a fellow creative, a sibling who gets it, and make them your creative cheerleader. Whenever you finish something, you text them. Not for feedback. Not for validation. Just: “I made a thing.”

It sounds almost embarrassingly simple, but the ritual of marking completion — with another human — slowly rewires how your brain experiences finishing. Right now, finishing might feel anticlimactic or immediately followed by doubt. Over time, this tiny celebration teaches your nervous system that done is worth something. And done is how you get better.

I have so many of these people in my life, thanks to my Epiphany Space community. It’s funny how much getting a simple “Woohoo” or “Yay” text back can be when I’ve completed something hard!

6. Remember: The Gap Is the Goal

Ira Glass said it best: “All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years, you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you.”

That distance between what you can see and what you can currently make? That’s the gap.

The inner critic loves to frame the gap as proof you’re not cut out for this. But the gap is actually proof that your taste is working, that you’re discerning enough to know there’s more to reach for. Every creative you admire spent years in the gap. You’re not behind. You’re in it, which means you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

7. Share the Struggle, Not Just the Outcome

We are all quietly drowning in everyone else’s highlight reel. The polished final post. The triumphant “I finished a thing!” with the beautiful photo. It makes everyone else’s process look clean and inevitable, and makes your own chaos feel like a personal failing.

Try posting the in-between. The failed experiment. The thing that didn’t work and what you learned. The half-finished mess you’re not sure about yet. When you share the struggle, you don’t just help yourself; you give everyone watching permission to be in progress, too. Community isn’t built on finished things. It’s built on honesty.

8. Make Something You’ll Never Show Anyone

Once a month, or once a week if you can swing it, make something with zero intention of sharing it. No audience. No caption. No critique. Just you and the making.

It’s remarkable how much of our creative anxiety lives in the imagined gaze of other people. When you remove the audience entirely, you remember something essential: you do this because you love it. The inner critic has no jurisdiction over something that was never meant for anyone else. This is your practice space, your playground, your pressure valve. Protect it.

—

None of these practices will make the inner critic disappear — but that’s not really the goal. The goal is to keep making things anyway. To build a relationship with your creative self that’s a little more spacious, a little more forgiving, and a lot more fun.

Pick one. Try it this week. See what happens.

What to Do When You Feel Like You Can’t Do It

Wed, 04 Mar 2026 13:14:59 GMT

What to Do When You Feel Like You Can’t Do It

By Steven W. Alloway

We’re talking this month about your inner critic. That little voice in your head telling you everything that’s wrong—whether it actually is or not. Now, dealing with this is something I have a lot of experience with… But not necessarily a lot of success. Still, going through it over the years has, at the very least, given me some insight, which I hope can be of some help to others.

That little voice takes many forms, but one of the most prominent is Impostor Syndrome: the fear that whatever you’re doing, you’re not good enough. Wherever you are, you don’t belong, and whatever you get, you don’t deserve. Everyone else is better than you, and as soon as they find that out, you’re done for.

How do you silence that voice? Well… You don’t. Not entirely. At least, I’ve never been able to. But there are ways of tempering it, of mitigating the effects and allowing you to carry on in spite of it. So, if you’re faced with impostor syndrome, here are a few things you can do when you feel like you can’t do it.

Make a List

At the end of last year, I made a suggestion . I talked about how it can be difficult to keep track of all the things you’ve done over the course of a year. Life events come at you fast and furious, and this one overshadows the one before. So then, when you look back, it can be easy to think you haven’t accomplished much, even when you have.

My suggestion was to keep a running tally—a written list, a folder of photos, a shelf of keepsakes—and add to it every time you do something that you’re proud of. Big, small, doesn’t matter; if you’re proud of it, remember it and make a note of it that you can come back to later.

So… How is that going for everybody? To be honest, I haven’t written anything down yet, but I’ve got four things that I’ve been meaning to write down, which will suffice for our current purposes.

The list isn’t just meant to be hidden away until the end of the year. You can refer to it anytime you want. And it’s a great defense against impostor syndrome. Feel like a failure? You have concrete proof of your success. Feel like you can’t do something? You’ve got a running list of things you HAVE done. The journey feels overwhelming? Here’s a reminder that what’s at the end is worth it.

Looking at what’s come before can be a tremendous benefit when you need energy for what’s ahead. When your inner critic tells you that you can’t do something… Just remind them of all the things you’ve already done.

Talk It Out

You can’t silence the voice of your inner critic. But you might be able to drown it out. If you’re worried that something you’re working on isn’t good enough, sometimes the best thing you can do is to ask someone what they think of it.

There is a caveat: You need to choose who you ask very carefully. The wrong feedback from the wrong people is one of the best ways to cause impostor syndrome, or to exacerbate it. And people can be pretty harsh with their feedback sometimes. They might not even mean to be. It’s just that not everyone is on the same wavelength when it comes to criticism, and what they think is helpful might end up doing more harm than good.

So find people who ARE on your wavelength. Know who the people are in your life who understand you and your work, whom you respect as artists and trust as people, and who can give you the feedback that you need.

That doesn’t mean finding people who will just heap nothing but praise on you. That can be an ego boost in the short term, but in the long run… You’re smart enough to know you’re not perfect. So hearing nothing but praise will quickly clue you in to the fact that something is missing. This can then make you doubt the validity and/or sincerity of the feedback you’re getting, and you’re right back to impostor syndrome. You’re still not good enough, but everyone is just too nice to tell you.

So seek out people who will give you real feedback—but that comes from a place of understanding. Find the people who “get you,” who have the best chance of understanding what you’re trying to do and can actually help you to do it better. Those friends, colleagues, and mentors are some of your best weapons in the war against impostor syndrome.

Accentuate the Positive

This one is more difficult than it seems. On the surface, it seems so obvious that I almost didn’t include it on the list. Really. In preparation for writing this article, I Googled “Ways to Beat Impostor Syndrome,” and “Focus on the Positive” was on almost every list. As far as advice goes, I thought it was simplistic and obvious. I wanted to go deeper than that.

But then I wrote in the previous section about how harsh or thoughtless feedback can be detrimental. And I thought of something. Say you put yourself and your work out there and get feedback from 10 people. Nine of them tell you that it was great and offer helpful, constructive criticism. One person is dismissive or makes a snide comment. What do you take away from the overall experience? What do you focus on?

Logic dictates that you should focus on the nine people who loved it. But that inner voice isn’t interested in logic. It will latch onto that one person and put their remarks on a pedestal. Their dismissiveness? It means they hated it. Their snide remark? It’s the epitome of what your work is actually worth.

And it doesn’t stop there. Those other nine people? Obviously, they secretly agreed with the one person who didn’t like it. They were just being polite. Or if they did like it, then they’re wrong. Their constructive feedback? Actually, a brutal takedown in disguise, and proof that your work is actually terrible. There’s so much wrong with what you’ve done, with what you’re doing, that there’s no point in trying to fix it. Either give up entirely or junk it and start over from scratch, because ten people absolutely loathed your work.

When things like that happen, you need to train yourself to look at the good things and focus on them instead of the bad. And much like in the first point, it helps to have evidence. Messages, e-mails, social media posts, good reviews… Keep them around and refer to them when you need to, as proof that, whatever negativity there might be around you or your work, these people thought that what you did was pretty cool.

Remember, Everyone Else Is Faking It Too

There’s a meme I see circulating occasionally that goes something like this: “If you ever feel like an impostor, just remember, everyone else is an impostor too, and you deserve a piece of the scam they’re all running.”

Impostor syndrome makes us feel like the people around us are much better and more talented than we are—that we don’t deserve to be among their ranks. It’s hard to believe that those people may feel exactly the same way. But they do.

Don’t believe me? Talk to some of them. Find the people in your life whom you admire most. The people whose success you only dream about. The people who are doing what you wish you could do. Really talk to them about what’s going on in their lives: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Nine chances out of ten, they have exactly the same fears, anxieties, and insecurities that you do.

They’re worried they’re not good enough. They’re worried that they’ll never achieve success—even though in your eyes, they’ve already achieved it. Just as you’re comparing yourself to them and feeling like you’ll never measure up, there’s somebody in their life that they’re comparing themselves to and feeling inferior. In fact, there’s a chance the person they’re comparing themselves to might be you.

Just today in my Facebook memories was an offhanded post I made some years ago: “All around me, I see people pursuing their passions. I feel like I should maybe do that too.” I remember the feeling that led to that post, which is one I’ve had many times before and since. I kept seeing posts from my friends about the plays they were directing, the films they were producing… This person wants me to come see their latest premiere, that person wants me to buy their new EP… And here I am, writing articles about air conditioning.

But the replies to that post... A number of my friends said things like, “Wait, I thought you were already doing that!” And one person even replied with, “Funny… I think the same when I see you posting about all the cool stuff you’re working on.”

These are the same people whose posts I would look at and think, “I wish I could do what they’re doing.” And it turns out, they were looking at me and thinking the exact same thing.

Everybody’s an impostor. The people you’re friends with, the people you work with, the people you admire… They don’t know what they’re doing any more than you do. That person who just won the highest honor in your field? They can’t believe they’re actually there and have no idea who would actually give them that award. They’re worried that whoever it is might change their mind at any moment and take the award back.

Everybody’s worried that they don’t fit in or won’t measure up. Everyone fears that they’ll be found out and exposed for the talentless hacks they are. So if you’re afraid someone might catch on to your ruse… They won’t. They’re too busy trying to keep up their own ruse to give any scrutiny to yours.

Inner Critic | March 2026 Playlist

Fri, 27 Feb 2026 23:11:29 GMT

Check out our March mixtape, inner Critic, to SPARK your creativity!

Songs to challenge the stories you tell yourself.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Enriching through Ritual

Wed, 25 Feb 2026 16:36:55 GMT

Enriching through Ritual

By Beth Stavros

If you haven’t read Walking on Water by the incomparable Madeline L’Engle, I’m envious of the experience that awaits you. If you have, message me immediately, so we can geek out together. The Wrinkle in Time author–to put it simply–rocked my world in her exploration of the interplay between faith and art, forever altering how I approached my own creative endeavors. Seriously, get yourself a copy of this book.

One of L’Engle’s most startling observations to me was in calling art “a journey to wholeness.” This threw me through quite the loop–though not a bad one–when I first read it. I felt a sense of disorienting, overwhelming relief. After all, if art is a journey towards wholeness, then it can’t be all of who I am, can it? I think I can safely say that I’m not the only one here who has struggled with making their art their whole identity. And I don’t think my art has ever been better for it. L’Engle (or Saint Madeline, as I like to call her) showed me why. If I see art as all that I am, then I can’t tell a whole story, because I’m not in touch with all of me. The journey through my art should be holistic. Should be holy. Like a pilgrim’s journey. And a pilgrim’s journey isn’t done in a day. It’s consistent. It’s a ritual.

In the last couple years, I’ve started coming to my art the way I would come to a prayer. Consistently, best with intention rather than obligation, and with as open and honest a view of myself as possible. This includes having grace with myself, which makes room for consistency–contrary to what some may think. There are people who will tell you, or lead you to believe, that grace is just allowing yourself to be lazy, and if you aren’t going to regularly lock yourself in a cabin, living a Spartan existence until you crank out something of meaning, then are you really an artist? Don’t believe them. Sure, your goal is ultimately to make your work as good as you can possibly make it. And bouts of solitude and focus–even lightning bolts of inspiration–have their place. There have been a few occasions in which a whole story has come to me, and I have stopped everything (once going so far as to plop myself down on the porch of a closed shop) to get it out on whatever paper I had on me as fast as possible. But the process is always bigger. Longer. And I have found that expecting anything less is selling, and my art, myself short.

If art is a journey towards wholeness, I won’t get that in a quick burst of time any more than I can form a meaningful, lifelong friendship over a single coffee date. But a consistent return to the ritual of art? That gives me a much bigger picture. It lets me check in with myself regularly, listening for the precise feel and wonder of each individual meeting with who I am in that moment. And the really great thing about art as ritual? Knowing when to stop (I cap my words written per day at 500, personally.) and knowing–really knowing–that I will start again soon.

Below are three of my favorite practices that helped me, personally, to create a ritual around my work. Not a definitive list, mind you. But some ideas to get you started if you’re just beginning to explore the idea.

Engaging the senses! (If you identify as a Christian and were ever drawn to “high church,” this one’s for you.) I understand that for some, this could be distracting. But one thing that really helps me shift is setting the time I spend working on my art apart somehow, rather than making it rushed and crammed. This could be as simple as lighting a special candle/incense, or brewing a specific “art” drink that you come to associate with working on your creative journey. How about your sense of touch? I have a chenille sweater, for example, that invokes a very specific feeling, and often, I take a minute to put it on before I start to work. The time it takes to light the candles/incense, prepare the drink, put on the special clothes gives your brain a chance to register where you are going. It prepares you to meet your work.

Ask your project where it wants to go. Stay with me on this one. If you are one of those people who works well in specific atmospheres, take it a step further and consult your work when selecting one. Then listen. Really listen. I can’t tell you the number of times I have tried to work on my art in a space that just wasn’t…well, working. And the result was a sort of ”cramped” feeling. Like, there was no room for this work, and I should just hurry up and be done with it. Another writer friend of mine mentioned this same feeling years ago while she was in the throes of edits (A moment of silence for everyone who finds themselves there right now.) and said that one day, thoroughly exasperated, she just asked her manuscript aloud, “Well, where do you want to go?” She then found herself in a sweet, calm coffee house with lots of sunlight, which she said was the exact joyful feeling the book was evoking. And she got SO much work done. May we all have such focus when editing. Asking my work where it wants to go puts me in touch with the work itself, and it makes me listen for what the piece is actually saying. (If you’re looking for a space that doesn’t require you to spend money, might I suggest checking out nearby library branches. Or one that’s further away if it has a really perfect vibe and you want to make a day trip of it. Most of them allow you to bring in a covered beverage. So brew that special drink, pour it into a to-go mug, and head on over.)

Journal afterward. This doesn’t have to be a long entry. Often, for me, it’s just a couple of lines scribbled down in my planner. But these lines are just for me. I don’t owe them to an audience, and I’m not trying to make them super polished. Take a minute to engage with the person you are on the other side of this creative endeavor. What are you feeling after working on your art? What impressions/questions/realizations are you taking with you?

Hope these ideas were helpful. Good luck, pilgrims!

The Habitual Dream – Using Tools and Visual Cues to Establish Creative Ritual

Wed, 18 Feb 2026 00:53:31 GMT

The Spark: The Habitual Dream – Using Tools and Visual Cues to Establish Creative Ritual

By Steven W. Alloway

I have, on multiple occasions, heard friends muse that they wish they could remember their dreams better. They have a vague awareness that dream journaling is a thing, but it’s not something they actively practice. They don’t even really know how to get started.

As it happens, I do know how. I don’t actually keep a dream journal, but I’ve heard from those who do, and I know the basics of how it’s done. Do you want to know the secret? Here it is:

You have to have a dream journal that you keep next to your bed.

Sounds simple, right? But the people I’ve talked to, who wish they could keep a dream journal… Generally speaking, they don’t do this. They don’t have a notebook by their bed where they can write down their dreams. There are other steps, of course. But without this one, you’re never going to be able to keep a dream journal.

Not a Morning Pages notebook. Not an Ideas notebook. Those are separate journals. Now, if you do Morning Pages, I have no doubt that some of your dreams will make their way into them from time to time. Likewise, some of the ideas in your Ideas notebook may spring from dreams you’ve had. But if your goal is, specifically, Dream Journaling, then you need a notebook that’s just for that. Because the key to making it a regular practice is establishing the ritual.

Establishing the Habit
If you just wake up and say, “Oh, that was a wild dream! I should remember that!”, then sometime round about noon, you’ll find yourself saying, “OK, there were some people… who wanted this thing… And they were in a place… that looked like… What was it again?”

Or maybe you do have the foresight to write it down. You get out of bed, walk to your desk, fumble for a pen that works… And by the time you’ve done that, half the dream is gone.

If you have a specific dream you really want to remember, you might get away with using your Morning Pages or Ideas notebook, or whatever else is on hand. But if you want to make it automatic, you need that separate notebook. And you need it right there, next to your bed.

Why? Because when you look at those other notebooks, you don’t think Dream Journaling. You think Morning Pages, or Ideas. So when you see them, first thing in the morning, your instinct isn’t to grab them and start writing down your dreams. And without that instinct, you can’t develop the habit of dream journaling.

Likewise, if you HAVE a Dream Journal, but it’s not on hand where you sleep and readily visible when you wake up, you’re not going to be able to grab it, and you’re not going to be able to write down your dreams before they disappear. But if you see the notebook you’ve established as your Dream Journal, as soon as you wake up, you not only have the means, but the reminder, right at your fingertips.

The Morning Pages Reminder
Now, the point I’m trying to make isn’t actually about dream journaling, specifically. Rather, it’s about ready tools and visual cues. Having a specially designated dream journal within easy reach and easy sight will help you train yourself to write down your dreams as soon as you wake up every morning. If you want to start a different ritual or develop a different creative habit, then a handy tool and a visual cue for that will do the same thing.

When I did The Artist’s Way last year, I kept my Morning Pages notebook (and pen) not just next to my bed, but on it. I’d open my eyes, and there they’d be, next to me. Even if I decided to put off doing them, I had it in my head. And any time I came back to my room throughout the day, there was the notebook, reminding me that I still had Morning Pages to do. If it hadn’t been there, I doubt the Morning Pages habit would have made it a week, much less 12.

The pen is essential, too. I know, it seems like a given. But pens are easy to lose, and they tend to dry up or run out of ink. You may have the visual cue of the notebook, but if you still have to get up and go in search of a working pen, it can break your momentum and make it that much harder to follow the daily ritual.

Other Visual Cues
Of course, not all creative rituals are writing-based, and not all of them happen first thing in the morning. But visual cues can still be helpful. When I was in college, I bought myself a cheap keyboard, in the hope of starting to play the piano regularly again. I stored it under my bed, and I don’t think I played the thing more than once or twice, the entire time I had it.

My current keyboard, I keep on a small table in the living room. Admittedly, I still don’t practice regularly. But since I see it every day, I play this keyboard a lot more often than I did the one that I hid away out of sight.

Another daily ritual of mine is reading. It’s a practice I consider essential to my creative growth, so I make it a point to read every day, even if it’s just a couple of pages, or a couple of paragraphs. I used to keep whatever book I was reading on or next to my bed, for that first-thing-in-the-morning, last-thing-at-night visual reminder. Lately, I’ve started keeping it next to my computer instead. My computer is very old and appallingly slow, so having my book on hand is a good way to kill two birds with one stone: get my daily reading done and kill time while waiting for the current page to load. And the visual cue of the book next to me is a great way to establish that new routine.

But then there are days when I don’t use my computer—or simply days when it runs at a reasonable pace, and I don’t have to spend time waiting for it. So I don’t have a chance to read while I’m working. But then I also don’t have the visual cue of the book in my room by my bed.

There are also times when the book I’m reading is on the Kindle app on my phone. Then there’s no visual cue at all, because I don’t look at my phone and think, “Book,” any more than I look at my Ideas notebook and think, “Dream Journal.”

Fortunately, at this point, I’ve been at my reading habit long enough that I can generally remember, even if I don’t have a book in front of my face. Still, I do like having the reminder, so I’ll try to find some other visual cue if I can, just to make sure I stay in the habit.

Environmental Distractions
Visual cues work the other way, too. Sometimes, seeing something regularly can foster bad habits instead of good ones, and limit your productivity.

For me, my Work Computer is also my Personal Computer. And I used to keep that computer in my bedroom. So whether I was working on an assignment, writing a story, browsing social media, or trying to sleep, the visual cues were all the same. This made it really difficult to get anything productive done.

I’d open my computer to start writing a new script, but instead I’d end up browsing the Internet for several hours. Or I’d just take a nap. Then that night, when I was trying to go to bed, I’d find myself watching Netflix instead. (This was back in the early days, when Netflix streaming was still something you did on your computer, instead of on your TV.)

I used to be able to sit down at my computer, open a blank Word document, and start putting words on the page. But over time, my space became a series of distractions. My computer was now a visual cue that said, “Internet,” or “Netflix,” instead of “Work.” If I wanted to develop better habits, I needed to get away from those cues and foster new ones.

Let’s Go to the Mall
And so I started writing in the food court at Northridge Mall. I don’t remember why I chose the mall, but it worked. I would go there in the late morning or early afternoon with a notebook and pen, grab lunch, and spend a few hours writing. If I got stuck, or just needed a break, I would get up, walk around the mall, browse a few stores, and then come back.

I tried just to let the words flow, rather than worrying whether or not they were any good—though the pages still ended up with their fair share of crossed out bits, carets to add a word, asterisks to add a sentence or paragraph, and other changes and rearrangements throughout.

Afterwards, I would come home and type up what I’d written, which also served as my first round of edits. Having actual words in front of me instead of a blank page made it easier to concentrate on the task at hand, instead of getting distracted. Then when I was done, I could browse the Internet and watch Netflix, guilt-free.

I did this for a couple of years, on and off, but in early 2011 was when I really committed to it. Beginning of the year, a former professor of mine posted a call for submissions for a short story anthology she was putting together. So I spent weeks going to the mall regularly to work on my submission. Some days, I would get a couple of pages. Some days, I wrote until my fingers had blisters. And by the end of the month, I had a 6,000-word story, which they accepted and published.

Separating myself from the habits and visual cues that signaled distraction in my old environment allowed me to establish this new environment as a place of productivity. And as I did that, the new habits and visual cues that came from that new environment signaled creativity instead.

Even now, 15 years later, when I go to the mall, I’ll sometimes find myself thinking, “Right there in front of that JC Penny is where I came up with my villain!” (In retrospect, part of me wishes that lunch hadn’t been a part of the ritual, as I ended up spending way too much money on pretzel dogs, pizza, brownies, gelatos, etc. Still, they were a big help in getting the story flowing.)

New Cues, New Habits, New Distractions
It’s been years since I’ve been to the mall to write. I don’t know that it would work as well anymore. Back in 2011, leaving the house, for me, meant leaving the Internet behind. But now I have a smartphone, so all the distractions that used to be on my computer now apply mobilely, too.

Back in the day, if I came across a question or conundrum, I’d draw a blank on the page, leave a space, and keep going. Then I’d look it up once I got home and fill in what I needed. Now, no matter where I am, if I run across one of those roadblock questions, out comes the phone. Before I know it, I’ve spent the next hour scrolling on social media, while a mostly-blank page stares back at me.

Fortunately, I’ve managed to establish other routines and habits that help eliminate distraction. I have a separate space in my home for writing that’s not my bedroom, and entering that space helps put me in productivity mode. I still don’t have separate Work and Personal computers, but there are still habits and cues that get me into Work Mode when I need to be and Creative/Personal Project Mode when it’s time for that.

It also helps that, at the moment, my phone is old and in poor condition. The battery drains very quickly, so most of the time while I’m working, it’s in the other room charging. Annoying, sure, but hey, I’m not scrolling!

But even though my approach has changed over the years, the core lessons remain the same. Establishing those visual cues and keeping those tools handy helps to build the environment and cement the ritual. And once the environment is established and the ritual is ingrained, distractions can be dealt with, productivity can flow, and creativity can burst forth.

The 'Have To's' and the 'Want To's' | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 11 Feb 2026 04:09:58 GMT

The 'Have To's' and the 'Want To's': Finish Your Morning Pages Before You Get Any Artist’s Dates!

By Steven W. Alloway

There was something that really resonated with me as I was doing The Artist’s Way a few months ago. In fact, there were quite a number of things that resonated with me—it was quite an eye-opening experience all through. But there was one thing in particular, which I think ties in with this month’s theme.

For those not familiar, there are two major tasks that Julia Cameron assigns you when you begin the process, which you are to continue doing throughout the entire 12-week course. There’s Morning Pages every day, and an Artist’s Date every week. And towards the end of the book, she mentions that people tend to have a lot more trouble adhering to the second one than the first—even though Morning Pages are significantly more difficult/demanding, while Artist’s Dates are meant to be fun. I hadn’t thought about it in those terms before she said it, but as far as my own journey went, it was spot on.

Committing to Morning Pages
I’ve talked before about struggling with Morning Pages. In fact, I’ve gone on record numerous times as saying that I absolutely hated them with a fiery passion. Now, doing The Artist’s Way again did help me warm to them a bit. I see their value now, and they’re not the crushing, unbearable burden that they once were. Still, they’re often an uphill battle. They don’t come easily to me, and summoning up the motivation to get them done often takes a tremendous amount of willpower.

Even so, when I was doing The Artist’s Way, I didn’t miss a single day of Morning Pages. I didn’t always do them in the morning. In fact, a few times, I didn’t get to them until right before bed. But I still did them, every day, for 12 weeks, from the first day of Artist’s Way to the last.

Struggling with Artist Dates
On the other hand, Artist Dates were another matter. From the very beginning, I struggled with them. Our group met on Wednesday afternoons, so most Tuesdays, I found myself scrambling to find something that could qualify. I started out with big plans. I wanted to go to museums, to major events, and more. But I never got around to it, and come Tuesday, it was too late to make those plans.

And so my Artist Dates ended up falling into two categories: my friends’ shows, which I would have gone to anyway, and quick trips somewhere close and convenient, on a Tuesday afternoon, just so I could say that I did something.

I had wanted to go to the Central Library in downtown L.A. and look at the architecture, browse the many different sections, see their vast collection of cookbooks, and more. Instead, I went to my much smaller, local library—and even that was only because I was already there to drop something off.

I had wanted to go to the Getty, one of my favorite museums, or LACMA, where I’ve somehow still never been—at least not inside. Instead, I went to Michael’s art supply store and browsed the shelves for an hour or so.

And somehow, the further we got into the course, the harder doing Artist’s Dates became. The last couple of weeks, I couldn’t find it in myself to do anything. The drudgerous slog through Morning Pages I did faithfully, every single day. But Artist’s Dates, the outings of fun and play, I just gave up on. So the question is… Why?

“Have To” vs. “Want To”
I think I’ve talked before about how I handle habits and routines. If there’s something I’m supposed to do every day, chances are it’s not getting done until right before I go to bed. If there’s something I’m supposed to do every week, it’s probably not getting done until the last day, if it gets done at all. Even if it’s something that I like. The resolution to make it a routine suddenly turns it from something I want to do, into something I HAVE to do—which then makes me resent it and want to put it off.

That’s a partial explanation. But there’s more to it. After all, Morning Pages were something I “had to” do, too, and while I did sometimes put them off, they always got done. So why did I allow Artist Dates to fall off? Even if that looming “have to” led to resentment, why didn’t I just power through, like I did with Morning Pages—especially since I knew that, once I did that, it would end up being fun?

Well, that’s the problem. It’s fun. How do I make time for something fun when I’ve got so much else going on? I have places I need to go, things I need to do. I’ve got paid work I need to finish. I’ve got a sink full of dirty dishes, and I need to buy groceries. Am I actually doing any of those things? No, I’m probably procrastinating on them too. But how can I justify taking the time for an Artist Date when there are so many other things waiting to be done? How can I give that the priority over these other tasks that are clearly more important?

Just Desserts
It’s the concept of “Finish your dinner before you get any dessert.” Morning Pages are a vegetable, so they get put on the dinner plate with all of the other tasks and assignments. I don’t necessarily want to do it, but I know it’s good for me.

Artist Dates are dessert. They’re fun, they’re sweet, they’re refreshing… So they get put off to the side. They sit there, looking inviting, but there are still vegetables on the plate. And as long as those vegetables are there, reaching for the dessert seems wrong, even forbidden.

I have the same problem with working on personal projects. There are stories I want to write, plays, films, and a hundred other things. But I also have paid articles to write about real estate or air conditioning. Those are the vegetables. Even if I’m not actively working on them, they need to get done before I can justify starting on the new play that’s staring at me from across the table like a slice of cake.

The problem is, there will always be vegetables. You finish this assignment, and there’s another one to get done. And before you finish that assignment, a third one comes along, which is also more important than the fun project. And a fourth project, and a fifth, and so on. They just keep piling on, the things you have to do first, before you can justify getting to the things you’ll actually enjoy.

Assignment vs. Permission
Even with regard to an Artist Date, which is literally an assignment, it still doesn’t feel like something that should be a priority. So I ended up throwing together quick, last-minute outings that didn’t take much effort or planning, just so I could say I did it, rather than carving out time for the things I really wanted to do.

Not to disparage my trips to the library or to Michael’s, mind you. Both of those ended up being incredible Artist Dates—eventually. For both of them, I started out just going through the motions. “I’ll stay 20 minutes, browse the aisles or the shelves, look at some cool stuff, and then go home.” I didn’t start to get the benefits out of them until I gave myself permission to explore.

That was the key. I had the assignment. But what I needed was permission. Not permission from Julia Cameron, who gave the assignment, or permission from my editors, who were waiting on my paid articles, but permission from myself. I needed permission, not just to do this thing, but permission to commit to the experience: genuinely to enjoy it and get real benefit from it.

Without that permission, those Artists Dates were just another thing I “had to” do, to satisfy a requirement. I went through the motions, just so I could say I did it. It wasn’t until I allowed myself to indulge in my surroundings, really explore them and experience them, rather than just look around perfunctorily, that I was able to have a real Artist Date that really filled my creative well.

That’s also why I had such a hard time figuring out Artist Dates, why I couldn’t carve out time for the museums or the Central Library, why I always put it off until the last minute, and why I eventually let them fall by the wayside. I had a hard time giving myself that permission to do something, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. Permission to eat my dessert, even when there were still vegetables on my plate.

Establishing a Routine
When we think of Creative Discipline, we think of the “have to’s”… Write every day. Play your instrument every day. Do your Morning Pages. But the fun things, the “want to’s,” need to be part of that discipline too. The Artist Dates, the personal projects that have no purpose and no deadline… They’re important. They feed your soul, they stimulate your growth, and they give you the boost you need to keep going.

I challenge you to take a good, hard look this week at your creative routines and practices. Do they include an Artist Date? Do they include time to work on your personal, frivolous, no-deadline projects? Are there any other things that you wish you could be doing, but you just don’t seem to have the time?

You need to make those things a part of your routine, just like all those other practices that you struggle with. Make it a point this week to carve out the time for those practices, even if you think you don’t have it—especially if you think you don’t have it. Get used to doing these things, to committing to them. Make that commitment this week. Then make it again next week. And the week after. Keep doing it until it becomes natural, as much a part of your routine as any of those other creative practices.

You’ve got the assignment. Now all you need is the permission. I can’t give it to you. Julia Cameron can’t give it to you. Your bosses, mentors, and clients can’t give it to you. You need to give permission to yourself, not just to go through the motions, but really to indulge, to experience. If you can do that and really make it a part of your regular creative routine, it will open up doors you never imagined.

Get Your Creativity Flowing: 5 Creative Routines & Daily Practices

Tue, 03 Feb 2026 18:18:52 GMT

Get Your Creativity Flowing: 5 Creative Routines & Daily Practices

By Becky Murdoch

So, we all know creativity matters, but let's be honest, most of us aren't waiting around for lightning-strike inspiration while lounging around eating bonbons. Real creativity happens in the margins of ordinary days, between meetings and meals and the mundane tasks that fill our hours.

I have good news for you, though! You don't need to overhaul your entire life or carve out huge chunks of time to cultivate a more creative mindset. Small, intentional practices woven into your existing routine can be surprisingly powerful. These aren't rigid rules or one-size-fits-all prescriptions—they're simple habits you can adapt to fit your life as it actually is, not as you imagine it should be.

Whether you're looking to solve problems more innovatively in your creative work, reconnect with a hobby you've neglected, or simply notice more beauty and possibility in your everyday world, these five practices can help. Go with what resonates, ignore what doesn't, and remember: the goal isn't to become a different person. It's to make a little more room for the creative thinking that's already in you.

1. Morning Pages: Brain Dump to Breakthrough

Okay, grab your journal and start each day by writing three pages of whatever is on your mind. No need to worry about grammar, coherence, or depth. This practice, made popular by Julia Cameron, helps to clear away mental clutter and often reveals insights once you get past the everyday concerns. Grab your morning coffee and sit with your journal for 20 minutes and just let your stream-of-consciousness flow out onto the page.

(Not going to lie here—sometimes I pull out my phone and turn on my voice recorder to do my brain dump when I'm driving to work. I don't think Julia Cameron would approve, but sometimes, as a verbal processor, this helps tremendously.)

2. The Daily Photo Hunt

I'm not someone who takes a ton of pictures. I like to be in the moment and not always have a camera in front of me, but I do like to randomly take pictures of flowers and other things I find interesting. What if you challenged yourself to capture one interesting image each day? It could be unusual lighting, an intriguing texture, or an unexpected angle on something ordinary. This practice trains your eye to notice beauty and possibility in everyday moments. This is a fun, quick way to add a little creative practice into your life!

3. Mindful Walking Without Distractions

This is so difficult for me—I always want something to distract me when I'm walking. I go for walks when I'm on the phone or when I want to listen to a podcast. But what would happen to your creativity if you took a 10-15 minute walk without your phone, podcasts, or music? Let your mind wander as your feet move. Sometimes it's in the quiet, forward motion that produces unexpected connections and solutions to creative challenges you've been wrestling with.

4. Idea Capture Ritual

I always have a small notebook or my notes app on my phone handy so I can capture the creative sparks I have during the day. Review these notes each evening, expanding on the most intriguing ones. This practice prevents great ideas from slipping away and builds confidence in your creative instincts.

5. Evening Creative Reflection

Evening routines are the most difficult for me. It's so easy to just watch one more episode because my nighttime self never seems to remember that whatever I'm watching will be there tomorrow. I like this simple, creative bedtime ritual that doesn't need to take long. You could even do this one after you turn out the lights.

Ask yourself: "What did I create today?" Let's celebrate everything from a clever text message to a new solution to a big problem. This will help broaden your definition of creativity and help you recognize what you're already doing!

Remember, the key to successful creative routines is consistency over perfection. Start with one or two practices that genuinely appeal to you, and build from there.

Lonely Hearts Club | February 2026 Playlist

Thu, 29 Jan 2026 03:48:59 GMT

Check out our February mixtape, Lonely Hearts Club, to SPARK your creativity!

The perfect mix for that single Valentine's Day or recent breakup.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

The Million Dollar Question: Risking It All to Find Your Creative True North | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 28 Jan 2026 18:11:05 GMT

The Million Dollar Question: Risking It All to Find Your True North

By Steven W. Alloway

In the movie Office Space , several characters are asked, “What would you do if you had a million dollars?” The purpose is to ascertain what they’re passionate about and thus what they should be doing with their lives. If you found yourself with enough money to meet all of your needs and cover all of your bills and expenses, so that you didn’t have to work for a living anymore… What would you do with your time? The example given in the film is, “If you say you’d want to fix up old cars, then you’re supposed to be a mechanic.”

Unfortunately, the characters keep misinterpreting the question, talking instead about how they would spend the money, rather than how they would spend their lives. Even the ones who do understand the point of the question don’t really have good answers for it, with the main character concluding that, if he no longer had to work, he would just do nothing.

It’s a flawed question for a number of reasons. In addition to the ambiguity, it’s also easy to get caught up in the semantics of it: Would a million dollars even be enough anymore, to live on in today’s economy? Would it be enough to take care, not just of you, but of the people you love? Not to mention the fact that, in the moment, those non-answer answers like “doing nothing” can sound like a pretty sweet deal.

So instead, I have a slightly different question. If you’re trying to find your creative True North, I think this could be a good way to help you determine what really matters to you.

The Million Dollar Question
Say you did get that million dollars. Or, in today’s economy, let’s make it $10 million. Enough that you and your family are taken care of. You can live a comfortable life, have whatever you want, and never have to work again.

What would you be willing to risk losing that money for? What cause, what project, what endeavor, would be worth giving up that comfortable life for and starting all over from scratch? What idea would you put the money into, even if there was no guaranteed return on your investment?

I’ve got a whole list, depending on how much of a windfall it is. A few hundred dollars? Rent a theater, mount a show. A few thousand? Same, but pay all the actors, crew, etc. A bit more? Buy a space, convert it into a theater, have a permanent stage to do whatever projects I (and my group, and my friends) want. A few million? Spend a couple of months in Ireland, shooting a television pilot. A few more million? Mount a show on Broadway, or the West End – maybe take it on tour.

Risk and Reward
Honestly, for me, I don’t think there is any “just sit back and be comfortable” money. Just about any amount I might someday attain, I’ve got a project that would require most of it, all the way up to, “Build a space station and mount Shakespeare plays in zero gravity” at the $100 billion mark.

Now, most of these ventures would have the potential to bring in a bit of money, too. Some of them could even bring in a whole lot of money. But they also might not. Rent a theater? Ideally, you make the money back with ticket sales. But what if people don’t come to see it? Buy a theater? That’s living the dream. Except theaters close down all the time as they struggle with upkeep and overhead.

Shoot a television pilot? Sounds great, but what if it doesn’t get picked up? Or even if it does, what if nobody watches it? Mount a show on Broadway? Take it on tour? Great way to make a fortune—and an even better way to go bankrupt.

With a million dollars, I could live a comfortable life. Or I could put it all into something I believe in. And if that thing doesn’t work out, the “comfortable life” is gone, and I’m right back to writing blogs for real estate companies in order to keep the bills paid.

But for the right project, the right venture, it would be worth it. Not even a question in my mind. Because it’s not about the money. I’ve made money on theater, and I’ve lost money on it. I’ve had a designated budget, but still poured my own money into projects (which then lost money). And I’d do it again.

Because why would I settle for a comfortable life when I can do something extraordinary instead? What’s the point of having all my needs taken care of if I don’t have something in my life that I’m passionate about? Money would be nice, sure. But in the long run, it’s just a means to an end. And that end has never been “a comfortable life.” It’s bringing stories to life for an audience and doing awesome theater projects with my friends. Which means my True North is, and always has been, theater (and also film, to some degree, but mostly theater).

The Sister Act Approach to True North
There’s a problem with using the Office Space example, which is that it could make it seem like you need a million dollars in order to follow your True North. Obviously, that’s not the case. So let’s try another example. Fortunately, there’s another movie from the 90s that I think could also be helpful in this regard.

In Sister Act 2 , Sister Mary Clarence tells one of her students, who’s conflicted about what she should do with her life, about a quote from Rainer Maria Rilke in Letters to a Young Poet .

“If, when you wake up in the morning, you can think of nothing but writing, then you are a writer.” She then extends it. “If, when you wake up in the morning, you can think of nothing but singing, then you are a singer.”

I’m not sure if that advice entirely holds up. When I wake up in the morning, I’m usually thinking of either sleep or breakfast. There are some days when I’m thinking of writing, but often, what I’m thinking is, “Ugh, do I really have to write three more articles about real estate today?”

Does that mean I’m not a writer? No, I think it just means I’m not a morning person. Then again, neither was Sister Mary Clarence, and the advice worked for her. Still, maybe a strictly literal interpretation of it isn’t the best approach. But I do think there are ways in which it holds merit.

The All-Consuming Lens
Even if it’s not first thing in the morning, what do you find yourself thinking about throughout the day? When you’re doing the things you have to do, is there a thing you wish you could be doing instead? Is there a lens through which you tend to see things?

“Ooh, this is a beautiful garden! I bet I could mount a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream here!”

Or, if your True North is something besides theater, your reaction might be something else. “Ooh, this is a beautiful garden! I’d love to paint it!” Or “Ooh, this is a beautiful garden! I should write a poem about those flowers, or a song about that tree!”

You may not have a million dollars, but whatever resources you do have, big or small, be it money, friends, or just random things you’ve found on your journey… What will you pour them into? And when those resources come to you, what’s the first thing you think of doing with them? What’s the problem that they suddenly solve or the goal that they become a stepping stone toward attaining?

When I was in high school, I decided, somewhat out of the blue, that I wanted to direct Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost . I want to say, “I don’t remember what made me want to do that,” but honestly, I don’t think I even really knew at the time. There wasn’t a specific reason. It was just an all-consuming feeling that this was something I wanted to do.

The same day that I made the decision to take on this challenge, my dad brought home a large box full of plastic flowers, vines, and other foliage that he had found somewhere. As soon as I saw it, I had one thought.

“Do you know what that is?” I said to my parents. “That’s the set! That’s the set for Love’s Labour’s Lost!”

The idea was only a few hours old at that point, but already, it was all I could think about. It was all I wanted to do with the resources at my disposal. It was my True North.

Pushing Northward Despite the Odds
We’ve covered what you’d do if you had everything and what you’d gladly give up everything to do. And we’ve covered what you can’t help doing with whatever you have. But what about those times when you really don’t want to be doing something? That can point you toward your True North too.

The road is not always smooth. There are problems, there are pitfalls, and there are risks—sometimes huge ones. But if you’d gladly take them on for the chance to do a particular thing… I think it’s a safe bet that that’s the thing you’re supposed to be doing.

My theater career has been fraught with disasters. Honestly, that’s pretty much the natural state when it comes to theater. Plans fall through. Scenes refuse to come together. People drop out of shows. I could write a whole book on the terrible things that have happened to me while doing shows—and nobody would believe half of them.

“But you still love every minute of it, and that’s how you know you’ve found your True North, right?”

No. These things take their toll. They can make me dread getting up in the morning. Those I’m close to have frequently heard me complaining about all the terrible things happening with my latest show, all the problems, all the things that are wrong, all the things that I really hate about it.

And sometimes they’ll ask me, “So why are you still doing it? Why don’t you just quit?” Not quit theater, but just quit this particular show that’s causing me so much stress and hardship.

I’m not getting paid. In fact, I’m probably losing money. It would be really easy just to walk away. To say, “No, let’s not do this anymore. Let’s call it quits, and I’ll spend my evenings doing all the things that I’d otherwise miss because I was at rehearsal.”

So why don’t I? Why do I keep taking on these projects and persist through these projects, even when they bring so much hardship, heartache, and stress? Because the alternative is not doing theater. And that would be unthinkable.

And that’s how you know you’ve found your True North. It’s the project you love, even when you hate it. It’s the thing you keep doing, even when you can’t do it. It’s the endeavor that you push through, again and again, not for the reward at the end, but because doing it IS the reward.

If, in spite of every obstacle, every disaster, every failed attempt, every bad review, every loss, you can still think of nothing but that thing… That’s who you are. That’s what you’re meant to be doing. That’s your True North.

Questions to Calibrate Your Creative Compass | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 21 Jan 2026 16:57:56 GMT

Questions to Calibrate Your Creative Compass

By Steven W. Alloway

In this first month of the year, we’re talking about your creative compass: figuring out your creative direction, so that you have a clear path towards your goals—and a clear understanding of what those goals are and why.

So how do you calibrate that compass? How do you understand the journey that you’re on, so you can be sure you’re headed towards the right goals? It helps to ask questions. It also helps to break things down into their most basic parts. So, how about we take the six most basic questions of all and use them to understand the creative journey that we want to take: Who, What, Where, When, Why, and How?

Only let’s not take them quite in that order. If we shuffle them around a bit, they actually form a pretty clear path that can lead us right to our creative goals and intentions. Starting with…

Why?

“Wait a minute,” I hear you ask. “How can Why be first? If you’re setting your creative compass, shouldn’t What be first? Don’t you need to figure out what you’re doing before you can ask why you’re doing it?” Not necessarily. In fact, I think that if, as you figure out what it is you’re doing, you don’t already have a clear idea as to why, you’re just setting yourself up for failure.

Why should be at the core of every goal. Why are you doing this?

“Doing what? We haven’t decided what we’re doing yet!”

OK, but in more general terms… Why do you do what you do? Why do you create? And why do you specifically create the things that you create, instead of something else?

Which then leads to questions like, Do you enjoy what you do? Is your creative life rewarding? And if not, why not? If you’re honest with yourself, that should lead you right to…

What?

What do you want to achieve? What can you do that’s in line with your Why? And if, in exploring your Why, you found that your creative life isn’t rewarding… What can you do to make it more so? How can you get back to the heart of what drew you to your art in the first place? Or, alternately… What can you pivot to that will be more rewarding?

In preparing for this article, I Googled “How to set creative goals” to see if I could get some ideas. One of the results said, “Make sure all of your goals are specific and quantifiable. Don’t just say, ‘I want to feel better about my writing this year.’ Map out what you’re going to do!”

Honestly, though, I think “I want to feel better about my writing this year” is an amazing goal. You could set a goal of, “I’m going to write 500 words a day,” or “I’m going to submit queries to 10 publishers, agents, or magazines every month.” But if what you really want is to feel better about your writing, then what good is either of those goals if they don’t help you to do that?

It is true that “I want to feel better about my writing this year” is pretty subjective. How do you know whether you’re on the right path toward achieving it or not? So those specific, quantifiable actions like writing every day and submitting queries are important to help you move forward.

But those actions can take some time to bear fruit. If you’re sending out queries every week, you’re likely to see a lot of rejection before you see any acceptances. That’s no reflection on you or your talent; it’s just the nature of the beast. But that doesn’t make it any less discouraging.

And that’s why you need your Why before your What. When you’re two or three months in, suffering rejection after rejection, you may find yourself asking, “Why am I doing this?” And if you don’t have your answer, then it becomes a lot easier just to give up.

But if you have your Why at the core of your What, then you can tell yourself: “I’m doing this so I can feel better about my writing. And I feel good enough about it that I can send out these queries every month. Whatever these agents and publishers think, whatever anyone else thinks, I have confidence in what I’m doing.” And then you can keep doing it.

When?

Once you’ve figured out what you’re going to do… When will you do it?

“This year! Duh!” you intone, rolling your eyes just a bit.

Sure, but more specifically. If you have a goal of, “I’m going to do this every day,” or “I’m going to do this much per week, or per month”… When, specifically, will you do it? This is particularly important when setting your intentions. You can know the Why and the What, but without a clear When, they become very difficult to enforce.

I have a lot of things that I do every day. Do you know when I usually do them? Sometime after midnight, as I’m getting ready to go to bed, and suddenly realize that I haven’t yet done the thing (or worse, several of the things) that I vowed I would do every day. So even though I’m dead tired, I end up not going to sleep until I check them off my list, one by one.

And if I say I’m going to do something every week? Forget about it. At first I’m rushing around on Saturday to meet my quota, but after awhile, it just falls by the wayside. Establishing a habit with something you only do once a week is difficult. And doing something little by little, incrementally throughout the week, instead of leaving it all until the end… Well, for a procrastinator like me, that’s practically unthinkable.

If you’re in a similar boat, then figuring out the When becomes that much more important. Whatever you’re doing, carve out room for it in your day and in your week. Will you work on your goal as soon as you wake up? After breakfast? Before lunch? For those with day jobs, will you do it when you get home from work?

(I don’t recommend that last one. After a long, stressful day, it’s easy to say, “Ugh, I don’t feel like it.” Even something you’re excited about can become drudgerous when it’s looming over your head at the end of a long, difficult day. Suddenly, the thing you want to do becomes the thing you HAVE to do, and it becomes a lot harder to work up the motivation.)

Figure out what works for you and your schedule. When do you tend to have extra time? When do you feel the most motivated? When are you at your most productive or most creative? Maybe try different times or different days, to see what flows most naturally.

Where?

There are several different ways to look at this question. If we follow directly from When, and the issue of scheduling to maximize productivity, then it’s a question of what kind of space you have to work on your project. Having a dedicated space that’s just for your creative work is important. A room, or even just a corner in your house that you turn into an office, a workshop, a craft room, a music room—outfitted with the things you need for your art and stripped of the things that could be distractions.

Or maybe you function better WITH distractions. In that case, a coffee shop or a coworking space could be a better option. Know what type of space you thrive in and work to find or create it for yourself.

But there’s a different question of where that’s important to explore when planning out your creative goals: Where will your project reside? What’s its ultimate destination? What’s the best home for it?

I’m dealing with that question while working on my own goals right now. I’m planning an epic show: a dinner fundraiser where we serve a variety of freshly made dishes and then perform songs and sketches. Where can I mount a project like this? Somewhere with a kitchen, but also a stage. Someplace with plenty of room for tables and chairs, so we can have a good crowd—but also someplace that won’t cost us an arm and a leg in rent.

These criteria are, of course, very specific to my group and our current project. But the question of Where is one you’ll have to deal with no matter what you’re working on, and your criteria, even if they’re very different, may well have a similar ring.

Writing a novel? Where will you submit it? Traditional publisher? Self-publishing? Which publishers are most likely to connect with what you’ve written? What platforms, venues, and media will you use to reach your target audience?

Of course, if you’re just in the beginning stages of your project, it’s likely that questions like that are the last thing on your mind—and that’s OK. As you’re working, you’re not creating for a publisher or an editor or a target demographic. You’re bringing your vision to life, whatever it may be, in the best way you know how. All of that other stuff can come later.

However, underneath the queries, the submissions, the marketing, and all the rest, there is an underlying question: When the work is finished, where will this project’s home be? It could be a physical location, a virtual or digital place, a community… And the answer may change throughout the creative process. But understanding it can help to guide you as you’re figuring out what path to take and how to bring your vision to life.

Who?

“That’s an easy one!” you say, smugly. “Obviously, the Who in this equation is me! They’re my goals, and I’m the one working towards them!” OK… But who else? Who’s doing it with you?

Nobody does it alone. If you’re trying to do it alone, you’re at best making things harder on yourself, and at worst, setting yourself up for failure. I’ve said this over and over again , and I’m going to keep saying it until… Well, at the very least, until I listen. Because asking for help and getting other people on board is something I still tend to struggle with.

So who’s going to help you as you work towards your goal? You might need others to help you on a major project. You might need an accountability partner to report your progress to and make sure you stay on track (while doing the same for them, of course). Maybe you just need friends to cowork with.

Since we’re taking things out of order in this article, let’s try an experiment. The logical thing to do, in terms of asking for help, would be to make a list of the things you need, then make a list of the people you know or are connected with, who might be able to help with those things. But instead, why not try making the list of people first?

Make a list of people you know you can count on, people you’ve worked with before, people who have expressed interest in working with you, people you’d like to collaborate with, and just people whom you think might say yes if you ask them.

Once you’ve got that list, then make the list of things you need and see how many of those things could be covered by the people on your first list. I’d be willing to be that making that list of people first will give you a better idea of what you need help with, as well as where you can go to find that help.

How?

OK, now that you’ve got all of your Who’s, What’s, Where’s, When’s, and Why’s sorted out, the only thing that remains is the How. Well, that’s the best part. Once you’ve figured out all the rest… That IS the How. You’ve got the Why at your core that gives you What you want to do. You’ve got When you’re going to do it and Where. And you’ve got plenty of Whos to help you! Put it all together, and that’s your blueprint, right there! A detailed plan of How you’re going to work toward your creative goals this year. All that’s left to do is dive in and get started!

Good luck!

Navigating Creative Direction When You Can't See the Whole Map | By Becky Murdoch

Tue, 13 Jan 2026 22:03:59 GMT

Navigating Creative Direction When You Can't See the Whole Map

By Becky Murdoch

I love that we're talking about finding our creative compass this month. I appreciate that we're not just jumping straight into vision board workshops and all the plans. I like that we're having conversations about our "why." That's something I need to ponder, and honestly, I haven't had much time to sit and think this season.

Here's the thing: I was out of town for all of November and felt a bit out of sorts when I returned. Then, I only had a couple of weeks before my mom arrived for a month-long visit. She's been helping me pack my house for a big move. It's an emotional move, and I haven't wanted to reflect. I want to spend as much time as possible with my friends, and I don't want to sit and be quiet.

Also, my flow is completely off. My mom is sleeping in my room, so I'm in the guest room. There's stuff everywhere. I've had to resign myself to not having my year planned out as much as I would like.

When All You Know Is "Head East"

So here's what I do know: the compass is pointing in a literal sense. Head east. Back to Detroit. That's all I know right now. (Ok, Detroit is northeast, but that doesn’t sound great in the title…so we’re going with east.)

Sometimes we only get the next step.

There's this really old Amy Grant song that I've been singing in my head…okay, it's actually based on a Bible verse, but this isn't a Bible study. The line is about being "a lamp unto your feet," and it's stuck with me because that's exactly what this feels like. Just enough light to see the next step, not the whole path.

All that to say, sometimes we only get the next step. The compass points in a direction, we go, and then we ask for the next step. I normally pray for my next steps. I don't know what you do, and I'm genuinely curious to know what that process looks like for you. How do you navigate when you can only see one direction forward?

I also think that some things are going to open up when I'm back in Detroit. I have to believe that. But right now, in this season of boxes and goodbyes and my mom organizing my kitchen cabinets, I can't see what those things are yet. And that's incredibly uncomfortable.

The "Why" That Went Missing (Or Did It?)

I feel like my “why” has been lost for a while. In one of the many discussions I've had with Epiphany friends this week, I think it was happy hour, I gave a half-hearted answer to the "why" question: I love connecting people. It was a true answer: I do love to connect people. But I felt like I haven't been doing that lately. Like that's the overall goal, but it's not really happening.

When your life is in boxes and you're sleeping in a guest room and you're avoiding sitting still because sitting still means feeling things you're not ready to feel, it's hard to feel connected to your purpose. It's hard to feel like you're living into your "why" when you're just trying to get through the day without having a meltdown in the cereal aisle of Trader Joe's.

But then something happened.

The Stilt Walker and the Revelation

I was out to dinner with friends, and one of them mentioned that she wants to learn how to stilt walk. And without even thinking, I said, "Oh, I probably know someone who does that."

Sure enough, Shelby could help her find someone. Connection made.

It was such a small moment. We kept eating, kept talking, and moved on to other topics. But later, I realized: that's it. That's the thing I said I’m not doing. That's my "why" showing up when I wasn't even looking for it.

Your creative compass isn't broken just because you can't sit down and meditate on it for an hour. Sometimes your "why" operates on autopilot when you're too disrupted to consciously pursue it. Sometimes it's woven so deeply into who you are that it keeps functioning even when you're convinced it's lost.

I've been so focused on the fact that I'm not doing the big, intentional connecting: the events, the introductions, the carefully curated gatherings, that I missed all the small moments where I was still doing exactly what I'm meant to do. The text that says "you should meet this person." The offhand comment that leads to an opportunity. The friend who wants to learn to stilt walk.

Permission to Not Have It All Mapped Out

So here's what I'm learning in this season of chaos and cardboard boxes and sleeping in the wrong room: maybe finding your creative compass isn't about plotting the whole journey. Maybe it's about trusting the direction you can see, even if that's just "head east", and recognizing your "why" when it naturally emerges, even in a conversation about stilt walking.

I don't have my year planned out. I don't know what's opening up in Detroit. I haven't had time to sit quietly and journal about my intentions or make a vision board or do any of the things that feel like "real" creative compass work.

But I know which way to go. And I know that my "why" is coming with me, packed somewhere between the winter coats and the coffee mugs, ready to show up in unexpected moments when I'm not even looking for it.

Sometimes the compass only points east, and you have to trust that more will be revealed when you get there.

Sometimes the next step is all the light you get, and you have to walk anyway.

What about you? How do you navigate when you can only see one direction forward? What does your process look like for finding the next step? I'd love to know, because I think we're all figuring this out together, one step at a time.

8 Things That Quiet When You Know Your Creative Why

Wed, 07 Jan 2026 17:49:48 GMT

8 Things That Get Quieter When You Know Your Creative Why

By Becky Murdoch

Ok, so imagine walking into a room filled with sound, voices, music, the hum of lights. And then someone flips a switch. The room gets quiet. That’s what happens when you start to understand why you create. Distractions don’t disappear, but suddenly you can hear yourself again.

Your own ideas. Your own curiosity. Your own path.

It’s like there’s a peace that settles in when you’re clear on why you create. It doesn’t necessarily answer every question, but softens the noise. The static doesn’t disappear, but it fades into the background.

Here’s what tends to get quieter when your creative compass is set.

1. Comparison

Other people’s paths stop feeling like detours you missed. Their wins don’t threaten you. Their pace doesn’t rush you. You can admire without measuring yourself against them.

2. The Pressure to Be Everywhere

You no longer feel like you need to say yes to every opportunity or trend. Clarity trims your calendar. You show up where it matters and let the rest pass without guilt.

3. The Need for Constant Validation

Applause becomes a bonus, not the fuel. You still appreciate recognition, but you don’t rely on it to tell you whether the work is worth doing. You know before anyone claps.

4. Creative Guilt

You stop shaming yourself for working slowly, changing directions, or resting. When your why is clear, you trust your rhythms. You understand that pauses are part of the process, not proof of failure.

5. The Urge to Explain Yourself

You feel less compelled to justify your choices. Why this project? Why now? Why not something more practical? Your inner answer is enough, even if others don’t quite get it.

6. Hustle Noise

The constant whisper that says “more, faster, harder” loses its authority. You can still work with focus and ambition, but it’s rooted in purpose instead of panic.

7. Fear of Changing Your Mind

You give yourself permission to evolve. Knowing your why doesn’t lock you in. It gives you a throughline that can bend without breaking. Course corrections feel like wisdom, not weakness.

8. Existential Creative Panic

That low-level dread. Am I doing enough? Am I wasting time? Am I falling behind? It doesn’t vanish completely, but it softens. You remember that your work is part of a longer story, not a race you’re about to lose.

When you know your creative why, you don’t suddenly have all the answers, but you do have a compass.

And the good news? You don’t have to navigate alone. At Epiphany Space this month, we’re exploring our creative true north together, asking the questions that matter, and helping each other quiet the noise so we can hear our own path more clearly.

Your compass is waiting.

What Does the Future Hold? | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 31 Dec 2025 17:10:08 GMT

What Does the Future Hold?

By Steven W. Alloway

In my capacity as a part-time time traveler , people will sometimes ask me, “What does the future hold?” Particularly standing, as we currently are, on the precipice of a new year, it’s a question we would all like some answers to.

Unfortunately, time traveling shenanigans aside, I do not actually know the future. Truth be told, obsessed as I am with time travel, I still would not actually want to know what’s going to happen in 2026, or any subsequent year of my own life. It’s the same reason why I don’t want you to start explaining to me the plot of the movie we’re sitting down to watch. I’m just about to experience it for myself. I’d much rather experience it the way it was designed to be experienced, than spend all my time anticipating and obsessing over all the little details that I know are coming.

Even so, though, as we say goodbye to the old year, we’re all probably at least a little curious as to how the new year will turn out. At the very least, we have an idea of where we’d like the year to go, and we set goals and make resolutions to try to guide ourselves down that path. Even if we don’t want full spoilers, it’s tempting to want at least a glimpse of that path, to see how close we stick to it.

So with that in mind, I’m going to tell you what’s in store for 2026. Are you ready? Here we go.

What’s In Store for 2026

It’s going to contain incredible joy. And it’s going to contain incredible heartbreak. There will be great victories. And there will be crushing defeats. There will be days when you’re on top of the world, and there will be days when you’re sure you’ll never reach your goals. You’ll take great strides forward, great leaps into the unknown, but you’ll also have some major setbacks and wonder if any of it is worth the effort.

You’ll meet incredible new people. And you’ll lose some of the people you’re close to. You’ll embark on some great new projects. Some of them you’ll accomplish, and some of them you won’t. You’re going to experience happiness, sadness, excitement, terror, anger, peace, and everything in between. In short, it will be… A year.

I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m not speaking here as a part-time time traveler, but rather as a fulltime human being. I don’t have a window into the coming year, but I’ve experienced enough previous ones to have a basic idea of how they go. I’m sure most of you do, too.

The question is, though, which will win out in the end? The joy or the sorrow? The victories or the losses? When I give my answer as a time traveler, I typically quote Doc Brown, in Back to the Future III : “The future is whatever you make it! So make it a good one!” It’s a great sentiment and not entirely without merit. But the reality is more complicated than that.

Curveballs

On January 1st, 2021, I made a Facebook post: “Our Facebook Memories are going to be wild for the next three months. Starting with posts about our goals for the coming year, and cries of, ‘Bring it on, 2020!’ Posts about things we’re doing and places we’re going, giving way to things we’re going to do: the shows and projects we started to embark on, which were meant to come to fruition in March and April. Followed by posts laughing off the sudden, spreading panic, and saying things like, ‘We’re all going to feel pretty silly when this turns out to be nothing.’ Then the sharing of silly memes about how to wash our hands properly. Culminating at the end of March with the post: ‘I can’t believe we have to stay home for two whole weeks!’”

2020 is, of course, the most striking example, but I’ve actually found it quite common that my Facebook Memories will serve as a reminder of how quickly life can change. The day my dad died, a friend tagged me, along with about 30 other friends, in a post thanking us for coming to his show over the weekend. There’s a post from 2010 about how excited I was to dive into a new project—a day before I spent a week in the hospital with appendicitis. There are photos of friends and loved ones that I had no idea would be our last photo together. And a hundred other things that take on entirely new significance when viewed in retrospect.

Yes, to a certain extent, the future is whatever you make it. But sometimes, life throws us curveballs. In the blink of an eye, your plans are completely derailed, and “shaping your own destiny” becomes a matter of getting onto whatever new track you can find—or even navigating without one for a while. But whatever you do, your life is going to change, perhaps drastically, through no fault of your own.

Unexpected Opportunities

Not all of the sudden changes life throws us are bad. Sometimes, what changes your life is an amazing new opportunity. Facebook Memories can be a great reminder of those, too. In January of 2012, a friend from college, whom I hadn’t seen in years, posted on my wall: “Hey, I’m working on a show, and I think you should audition!”

I don’t remember what I had planned for 2012, but after that audition, my plans shifted dramatically. Not just because I was unexpectedly in a show. But because that show then led to another show and another show, to new friends, new opportunities, new communities… Not just in 2012, but for years afterwards. And eventually, it led me to Epiphany Space, too. I don’t know what my life would be like without that one audition or that one Facebook post inviting me, but it would be completely unrecognizable when compared with my life today.

But when it comes to Facebook’s reminders of amazing life changes, nothing beats the Friendiversary. This was the day I met someone who’s now an integral part of my life. I barely knew them at the time, but now, the things we’ve been through, the adventures we’ve been on… Just by going on the journey with me, they’ve managed to change the path in ways I never could have hoped or imagined.

The Future’s Up to You?

“The future is whatever you make it” is a nice sentiment, but there are also some problems with it. It’s true that you never know when your life is about to change unexpectedly, and a large part of life is about recognizing those opportunities and adapting to those curveballs, to make the best of whatever situation you find yourself in. In that respect, your future is in your own hands.

But when you boil it down to those simple terms, it can make it seem like, if you’re NOT doing well, if you’re not accomplishing much, or if you’re struggling just to stay afloat, that it’s, at least to some degree, your own fault. The future is whatever you make it! So if it’s not good, it’s because you didn’t make it good! You didn’t jump quickly enough at those opportunities! You didn’t adapt hard enough to those curveballs! You had the opportunity to make a great year! And you failed!

That is a load of dingo’s kidneys. We all do the best we can, and in spite of it, sometimes we’ll still have bad years—years we’re glad to be rid of and wish we could just forget. Even when you make the best of a bad situation, it’s still a bad situation. Sometimes “making the best” can mean making things actually good, but sometimes, it’s all you can do just to keep them from getting even worse.

Like 2020. We all “made the best of it” in our own ways, with our sourdough starters and our Zoom-based theater productions, but any way you slice it, it was still a terrible year. And there was nothing any of us could have done to make it a good one.

Or even aside from the Pandemic… For me, 2015 and 2023 were two of the worst years of my adult life, plagued with tragedy and loss. I’m sure you’ve had years like that too: years where, no matter how hard you try to “make the best of it,” all you can hope for is just to survive to the next year. It’s easy to get discouraged during times like this, but you need to remember that it’s not your fault. You haven’t failed. You’re just facing some curveballs and dealing with them as best you can.

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times…

I suppose that’s not a particularly hopeful sentiment for the new year. But on the other hand… You did, in fact, survive! Because here you are! And you’ve had some great times since then, and probably some pretty good years!

Which brings us back to what I said at the beginning. Yes, things will be bad sometimes. But they’ll also be amazing. Even the best years have some tragedy, and even the worse years have some joy. In 2015, I made some incredible friends, and I got to play one of my dream roles on stage, Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream . In 2023, I spent the summer in Paso Robles and got to see Hearst Castle. Even in the darkest times, there’s always something great too, if you look carefully enough.

I really hope that 2026 is an amazing year for you. I hope you accomplish fantastic things, meet and connect with incredible people, and find opportunities that will change your life forever. But even if things don’t turn out that way, don’t ever lose hope. Focus on the joy whenever you can, and remember, when things seem bleak, that there are still incredible things on the horizon.

What does the future hold? I don’t know. But I’m excited for us to find out, together.

Swing in the New Year - January 2026 Playlist

Sat, 27 Dec 2025 00:37:49 GMT

Check out our January mixtape, Swing in the New Year, to SPARK your creativity!

Swing in the New Year with some hot big band classics.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

An Experiment for the Coming Year | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 17 Dec 2025 05:23:21 GMT

An Experiment for the Coming Year

By Steven W. Alloway

I want you all to try something in the coming year. More accurately, I want me to try it, but I think it might be beneficial for others as well. Particularly if, like me, you tend to find yourself every December, looking back and thinking, “Just what did I DO this year?”

Here’s what I propose: Throughout the year, anytime you do something you’re proud of, do something to commemorate it. Not just a celebration, although those are important too. But beyond that, do something concrete and tangible that can serve as a reminder.

Photos work really well in this regard, but I find I often get so caught up in whatever I’m doing that I forget to take them. Writing it down in a notebook works well too, and it’s something you can do afterwards, rather than remembering in the moment. Or find some souvenir, keepsake, or trinket that will remind you of the thing you’ve done, whenever you look at it.

Whatever you choose, do your best to keep it consistent throughout the year and keep these records or remembrances all in one place, where they can be easily accessed whenever you want. Then, next December, as the year is drawing to a close, and that question starts nagging at you again—“Just what did I DO this year?”—pull out your list, or your photos, or your keepsakes, and look at them. There’s your answer. These are the things you did. These are the things that you were proud of. Aren’t they cool?

The Looming List

Last year around this time, I wrote a bit about the things I didn’t do . A year before that, at the end of 2023, I wrote a whole article about my goals, the big dreams I was planning on making into reality in 2024. And not a one of them came to fruition. Even the easy, “I’ll put that on the list because I know I’ll do it anyway” goal—somehow, I didn’t do that one either, the whole year.

2024 is hardly the first time this sort of thing has happened to me either. I recently found myself combing through old e-mails from 10-15 years ago, and I found a document labeled, “Spirit OnStage Goals 2011.” It was made in preparation for a meeting with my theater group at the start of that year, to outline the projects I wanted us to do.

There were eight items on the list, including, “Shoot a feature length film,” and “Write and mount a full-length book musical.” Of those eight items, one got done. A couple of others, we technically did, but not nearly to the extent that I had planned in the meeting. One or two things, we started but never finished. And the rest just didn’t happen at all.

So What Have You Done?

Of course, that’s not to say that I didn’t still do plenty of cool, creative things, in both of those years. In 2024, I wrote several plays; I directed a full-length, in-person puppet show for the first time; I performed for a retirement community in Fresno; I wrote a short story that got published in an anthology of time travel stories.

And in 2011… Well, I don’t really know. It’s been a very long time. I remember a couple of shows I did, one with Spirit OnStage and one with another group. I have vague recollections of a couple of other projects, which might have been that year or might have been another year. But I don’t have much else. The main thing I have, for 2011, 2024, and plenty of other years in between, is the lists: those beginning-of-year lists of things I wanted to accomplish. And no matter how much I actually got done in that time, it’s hard to look at those lists, of all the things I was so excited for, that never quite got done, and not feel like a failure.

Wherever the Wind May Take Us

So this year, I decided on a different tack. I wouldn’t set any specific goals. Instead, I would just go with the flow and see what happened. And you know what? It’s been an incredibly productive year. I’ve done so much cool stuff. It feels like I’ve done more this year than I typically do, though I’m not sure if I actually have, or if it’s just because I’m not comparing my accomplishments with an unfinished list.

At any rate, I’ve written plays, short films, stories, songs… I took a script I wrote years ago and remounted it as an immersive children’s show. I learned a couple of songs that nobody has heard or sung in 150 years, and taught them to the other members of my theater group. I helped produce a concert at my church by the inimitable Cortney Matz. And I also… I also…

Well, that’s the thing. It’s still hard to remember. There’s so much going on all the time, in the world and in our lives. Every year since 2020 has felt like at least five years. There’s joy and there’s sorrow; there’s tragedy and there’s triumph; and there’s everything in between. Time tends to blur together and events get lost in the shuffle.

Survival of the Pessimistic

It’s also true that our brains tend to be hardwired to remember the bad things better and more clearly than the good things. It’s a survival mechanism. If you encounter something dangerous, you need to be able to remember the harm it caused you, so that next time you encounter it, you know to avoid it. If all you remember is the good things, it opens the door for you to keep making the same mistakes, again and again.

If, for example, you accidentally eat a poisonous mushroom, then your brain needs to hang on to the memory of how sick it made you and how long it took you to recover, and try to downplay the memory of how delicious it was at the time. If it did things the other way around, you’d probably end up eating the mushroom again—and next time, you might not be so lucky as to recover.

Unfortunately, our brains don’t always make the distinction between, “Harmful thing that wants to kill me,” and “Something that was a bummer and made me feel like a failure.” So it hangs on to those negative memories regardless, and the feelings that go with them end up crowding out the positive memories.

If I may be very honest for a moment, I’m going through a bit of that right now. I know, logically, that I’ve done a lot of amazing things this year. I’m super proud of what I’ve accomplished. But the Christmas show I’m currently working on is turning out to be much more difficult than it should be. We’re facing an inordinate number of obstacles and setbacks, and it’s very difficult not to get discouraged.

So right now, when I think about other shows I’ve done in recent memory, I find I’m not thinking about the awesome children’s play I did in May that was one of the best theatrical experiences of my life, or the small but fun show I was in at the end of September where I got to use puppets, play that kazoo, do a swordfight, and more.

Instead, I’m thinking about the Christmas show I did last year, which was also fraught with logistical problems, casting difficulties, and other obstacles. I know, logically, that my group has had some amazing successes, but I can’t help but get bogged down in the failures.

And the thing is, last year’s Christmas show wasn’t even a failure, either. It didn’t turn out the way I had wanted it to, and it was rough getting to the finish line. But you know what? We still got there, and the audiences really enjoyed it. I had one friend just tell me recently, almost a year later, how much they liked last year’s Christmas show, and how much they were looking forward to seeing this year’s.

But our brains will remember things the way they want to. That’s why it’s so important to keep track of your wins in the moment. Your brain is a dirty liar. You need the evidence to refute it. When you feel like all you’ve done is fail, or you feel like you haven’t done anything at all, you need to be able to look back and say, “This is what I did! I was proud of it then, and I’m proud of it now!”

For the Win

I’ve never really attempted this “making a list of wins as they happen” thing before, but I’m looking forward to trying it, and I really hope you’ll try it with me. We keep lists of our goals and our resolutions; doesn’t it make sense to have a list of our accomplishments, too? Especially when you’re looking at that list at the end of the year and seeing all the things you wanted to do, the things you were so excited about, that just didn’t happen.

And it’s not just helpful at the end of the year. There are times throughout the year when those tangible reminders can come in handy. Anytime you feel like you haven’t done anything worthwhile, you have proof that you have. Anytime you feel like you can’t do it, you have proof that you’ve done it before—maybe not this exact thing, but something else that was just as scary at the time and seemed just as impossible. You did it, and you can do this too. And then you can take a photo of it, grab a souvenir, and add it to the list.

How You Reflect Determines How You Advance | By Dennis Ricci

Tue, 09 Dec 2025 17:45:30 GMT

How You Reflect Determines How You Advance
By Dennis Ricci

Experience is not the best teacher.

Wait, what? If actually doing the creative things we love to do isn’t the best way to learn how to do them better, then what is?

For starters, it’s important to know where a saying like “experience is the best teacher” comes from and in what context.

In Commentarii De Bello Civili (Commentaries on the Civil War), Gaius Julius Caesar (yes, the dude who was done in by Brutus) wrote the first recorded expression of the saying: “ Ut est rerum omnium magister usus —Experience is the teacher of all things.”

He drew that conclusion from his reflections on the Roman Civil War he waged in 49-48 BC against Gnaeus Pompeius and the Roman Senate. What most modern scholars conclude, though, is his writings are essentially a self-justifying account of events.

And there’s the rub. The experience you evaluate well—honestly, fearlessly, without making excuses, and with input from others—is the best teacher .

As you engage in some form of reflection and renewal, I want to share some personal examples of how to evaluate your experiences well, in context of how you see yourself and your purpose, why you do what you do, and your dreams for your life and work.

Reflecting on How You See Yourself
Who do you think you are?

Most likely you’ve heard that question not as an encouragement, but because you’ve done something that rubs someone else the wrong way. Have you ever thought that people, events, and circumstances attack you most when you are being and doing from your authentic self? Am I the only one?

If you haven’t taken time to gain clarity on your unique self, I promise it will be life-changing. Back in 2017, I participated in a weekend men’s retreat with my church, and our guest speaker took us through a model he developed for businesses called The Purpose Train, which led us to pursue five critical success factors:

Identity: the track on which your business rolls
Purpose: the engine that pulls the business forward
Vision: the destination your business leads your customers
Strategy: decisions on what you will and will not do to lead them there
Tactics: daily choices you make to execute your strategy

It was quickly apparent his model was great for “personal use” when he led us to think about identity not in terms of a grand narrative, but with 2-4 words that capture the essence of our unique design. Here’s what I came up with, and what I carry with me today:

Identity/Design

Builder

Messenger

Encourager

Simple, powerful...clarity on how I’m wired and what it’s for. But here’s what’ so powerful—we pulled away with God and asked him to reveal the words. You’ll know if it’s God and not your own thoughts, or the collective opinions of others, when they resonate within you as a pure tone, with a deep, lingering sustain.

Reflecting on How You Understand Your Purpose
What makes you come alive? Having a strong grasp on your unique design goes a long way to understanding purpose, but I’ve learned that purpose is not static inside the arc of life. The raison d’etre of your gifts and talents morph over time, and always in an additive way. If you take the time to allow the discoveries and growth you experience to catch up with you, you’ll see how each season prepares you for what’s next.

From the Purpose Train model, I carry three words with me daily to express my purpose at this season of my life:

Purpose

Proclaim

Portray

Demonstrate

Proclaim and Portray are two sides of the same coin when it comes to my storytelling. Demonstrate grows out of being an Encourager. What makes me come alive is that moment with everyone I coach or instruct when the light comes on in their eyes when they discover their design and purpose, vision and dreams .

Reflecting on Why You Create

Why do you pursue your art? To satisfy your own soul? To learn, discover? Fulfill a deep longing? Become famous? Has another artist inspired you? Or are you building a business around it?

Early in my pursuit of writing novels, I decided to do it as a discovery of something I’m passionate about: restorative justice. I believe real justice seeks to restore people and relationships and communities, not merely dispense retribution for wrongs. That belief incites a lot of tension in my own mind and heart; hence, I explore that through inventing characters and writing stories of how they navigate that tension. Here’s how I articulate my “why” for writing novels:

I believe real justice seeks restoration, not retribution, and that judgment opens the door to mercy and reconciliation. I write stories that explore and explode the tension between law and love, judgment and mercy. I write thriller novels.

This statement serves as an anchor against which to evaluate every story I write and how my beliefs and my understanding have grown and, perhaps, shifted direction. It helps me be intentional and aware about my creative growth goals and process.

Here’s something to consider if you’re building a creative business— if the business itself is your why, it’s not enough. Simon Sinek, business consultant and author of bestselling books Start With Why and Leaders Eat Last , drew a powerful conclusion through his extensive study of leaders and artists and innovators of all stripes— people don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it . Sinek also concludes that your vision, expressed through your work, will resonate most with people who believe what you believe .

A “business why” needs to connect with a very specific micro-niche of people who share your belief, and for whom your art represents either a solution to a felt need or the satisfaction of a deep desire.

As an author, my why statement captures why I write and who I write for—people who share my beliefs about justice and like thriller novels.

Reflecting on Your Dreams

What inspires you to sweat and sacrifice, grind and groan, to create? What has become your creative north star?

In a perfect world, clarity about your design and purpose fuels a prolific “dream factory,” a nonstop stream of inspirations. Big, audacious dreams provide lift to your creative wings, but they must also be put to the test, so the ones you embrace are solidly aligned with how you’re designed and your purpose in this season. One way to put your ideas to the test is the principle of creative limitation —a narrow path of what you will pursue, leaving good ideas outside and only allowing the best ideas into your creative stream.

Selling my first novel for publication was a heady experience. I had visions of a “Real Justice Thriller Series” built around an ensemble cast of characters. I was rolling. As I was finishing final edits to my manuscript, I was interrupted by a voice, who said to me, “Someday you will write a story about Jesus in his first person point of view.” I knew who that voice was. The prospect of it was daunting. I had lot of growing to do as a storyteller before I would even consider such a project. But I had the audacity to ask, “Can I write as a thriller?” The voice’s answer: “Write it however you want. Just write it.”

I kept that encounter to myself and carried on with my vision. I wrote almost 50,000 words of “real justice thriller 2.” And then I reached a moment when I said, “I’m not feeling this. I think that story doesn’t have a sequel. So I put that work in my virtual drawer and started on a new story idea. Got to the midpoint. This time, the moment was, “I’m not feeling this. I don’t know if I want to write thrillers anymore.”

The voice returned, this time at a writing workshop in Redding, CA. The participants were gathered in a large circle, and our first activity was to introduce ourselves and what we’re writing. He said, “Tell everyone in this circle what I said.” No way! I hadn’t even told my wife! When it was my turn, the voice said, “Now.” So I did. And the room erupted. “You have to do it!”

So here I am, ten years later, doing it. Good ideas set aside to pursue the best and most difficult one.

Including Others in Your Experience Evaluation

As you pause to reflect on the past year and begin to renew for the year ahead, celebrate this amazing Epiphany Space community! Then consider inviting a “reflection partner” or two into your process. Allow their iron to sharpen yours, and vice versa. We get to “go with others” on our respective creative pursuits, which makes the evaluation of our experiences richer and more instructive.

Let’s do this, Epiphany Space!

Classic Christmas - December 2025 Playlist

Wed, 03 Dec 2025 19:00:24 GMT

Check out our December mixtape, Classic Christmas, to SPARK your creativity!

A blend of Classic Christmas songs to warm your hearth this season.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

A Month of Creative Reflection: Questions to Guide You Into 2026 | By Becky Murdoch

Wed, 03 Dec 2025 18:45:27 GMT

A Month of Creative Reflection: Questions to Guide You Into 2026
By Becky Murdoch

As we head into the final stretch of the year, our theme, Reflection & Renewal: Looking Back, Looking Forward , feels fitting. This year felt especially difficult for me, and I’ve heard the same from many of you.

For many, this is the season when we start taking stock: where we are, where we’ve been, and what’s next. Before we rush into plans, goals, or new creative projects for 2026, it feels grounding to pause and ask ourselves a few honest questions about the journey we’re on. As we head into the holidays, I want to use this month to look back with gratitude and look forward with hope. I want to reconnect with the creative spark that carries me through the year. I hope you’ll join me!

Every year, think I’m going to take New Year’s Day to sit with my journal and ponder the year ahead. That has never happened, not even once. So what if I take the month leading up to the new year and get a jump on the reflecting? These are some questions I’m asking myself, and I hope you find them useful in your journey as well.

What creative risks did I take this year, and what did they teach me?

Growth requires stretching, and every risk we take teaches us something if we look for the lesson. Did you try a new medium? Share your work publicly? Say yes to a project that feels way out of your comfort zone? Look back at the moments when you choose courage over comfort and journal about what those experiences reveal about your voice, your resilience, or your capacity.

Where did I surprise myself creatively?

So many of our best moments happen when we stumble into something new. Maybe you finish a project you aren’t sure you can pull off, or maybe an unexpected idea sparks for you. When you reflect on 2025, remember it’s not only about the challenges; it’s also about the delight of creating! What projects exceed your expectations? This might give you clues about what’s waiting for you in 2026!

What creative habit or rhythm supported me the most?

We all have patterns that help us flourish as artists. Maybe it’s those morning pages, weekly co-working, late-night editing, or getting out in nature to clear your mind. When you identify the habits that nourished your creativity this year, you also find the rhythms worth carrying forward.

What habits drained me or held me back?

Okay, we talked about the habits that are helpful, but what about the others? The habits that quietly drain our energy. Are you in a comparison loop or overcommitted? Still waiting for the perfect conditions before starting? This isn’t about feeling shame over the habits that slow you down; it’s about naming them and choosing a more life-giving path into the next season.

What themes or ideas kept resurfacing in my work?

Sometimes our creative work knows what we need before we do. Look back over your projects: what stories, images, emotions, or questions keep showing up? Let’s look at these recurring themes as invitations to recognize what you’re working through internally and what your art is trying to say.

What did I avoid creating, and what might that be telling me?

What we avoid often points to something important. Is there a project you keep putting off? An idea that feels too big, too vulnerable, or too unclear? It’s easy to judge ourselves for putting things off, but what if we get curious instead? Maybe the fear and avoidance are leading us to the work that matters most.

What do I want to release before stepping into a new creative season?

Sometimes a new season asks us to let go of something: a project that no longer works, expectations that weigh you down, or stories you tell yourself about what you can or can’t do. When we clear that emotional space, we make room for fresh ideas to flow.

What’s one bold, creative dream I’m ready to claim?

This is a big one. Sit with it for a while if you need to. Imagine without editing, shrinking, or apologizing. Do you want to record an album? Publish your first book? Launch a business? Create with more freedom? Name that dream — that’s the first step to living it.

As we move toward a new year, my hope is that these questions give you space to reflect, breathe, and reconnect with what matters most in your creative life. Take your time with them. Let them open something inside you. And may this season bring clarity, courage, and quiet sparks of renewal.

5 (Free) Ways To Support Your Artist Friend | By Cortney Matz | Spark Rewind

Tue, 25 Nov 2025 19:43:15 GMT

5 (Free) Ways To Support Your Artist Friend

By Cortney Matz

Don’t you love your artist friend?

They’re so imaginative! They’re so brilliant! They’re SO busy. And chances are – so are you .

One slight downside of making friends in a creative town like Los Angeles: our friends are always making stuff. And it’s great stuff! Cool events, impressive music, insightful poetry, powerful paintings, thought-provoking stories, books, and films… it’s easy to get overwhelmed.

How can we help each other WHILE keeping up with our own projects?

Consider these 5 ways to show up for the creatives you love, even while juggling life.

0. Buy Their Thing

(This is #0 on the list because it is not free – but if you can afford it, buy it! Why not?)

1. The Free Version of Buying Their Thing

Do you genuinely want to participate in your friend’s event or own their product, but it’s just a cash flow issue? If money is the obstacle, why not volunteer your time?

Every live performer needs photos and videos of their live performances
Every event host needs help setting up, running things, and engaging with guests
Every book/film/album needs reviews

It’s not always easy for artists to ask friends to help with these things, and you taking the initiative to offer can be a real, practical encouragement.

2. Ask How It’s Going or How It Went

This is especially valuable in the instance that you don’t actually WANT to go to their thing or can’t spare the time to volunteer.

If the project itself just doesn’t appeal to you, you might ask questions like: “What excites you about this project? What gave you the idea? Is it coming together the way you hoped?”

And then listen to their answers.

Important: please do not feel obligated to express interest that you do not actually feel. As a prolific creator myself, I know that much of what I create is for a very specific niche of people. If you don’t fall into that niche, it’s okay.

But as my friend, it’s nice to know that you care about me and my life – even if my latest *murder mystery musical is just not your cup of tea.

3. Tell Someone

You don't have to be a major social influencer to pass the word.

Take a moment to scroll through the contacts in your phone – do you know someone who loves interior design or who teaches art? Why not tell them about your friend's gallery show?

No shade on a blanket Facebook share, but in my experience, a personal invitation can be even more effective – and it also gives you a reason to interact with someone you haven’t seen or spoken to in a while. Win/win!

4. Praise Your Friend in Public

Is your friend a genius writer? A musical theater whiz? An overall kind and generous person?

These are all great things to brag about as a creative wing-person. Next time you see your friend with other people, let them know what a fantastic human is in their midst.

Variations of this:

Call out an admirable trait on your friend’s Facebook Reviews page (best to avoid referring to them as your friend for the sake of professional credibility… instead use their full name and keep your comments objective)
Nominate them for an award (someone submitted my name for America’s Got Talent last year and it made my day)

And if you happen to become acquainted with a casting agent, music supervisor, entertainment lawyer, podcast host, news reporter, sales agent, or club promoter… why not ask them if they’re looking for talent? Maybe you know somebody.

5. Likes and Comments

Social media is still the way a lot of indie artists share their creative journey, and if you typically use it for scrolling I want to propose a tiny little game:

For every fifth post you scroll, ask yourself: was this made by a person that I know, like, and respect?
Is this a post about their art – the creative overflow of their very being?

If no, scroll along to your heart’s delight.

If yes, go ahead and like it. Likes help increase the algorithmic possibility that anyone else might have a chance to actually see this and respond to it.

And if you REALLY like this person/post, maybe leave a comment. Either your own comment or a response to someone else’s comment. The algorithm loves interaction, and literally anything you write could help your friend’s created works reach the eyeballs of their soon-to-be superfans.

Bonus for Friends of Musicians:

Use your friend’s song in your Stories! If they have music on streaming, they probably have songs available on TikTok, YouTube, Instagram, and Facebook. Just search their name and let them soundtrack your next slice of life.

(You probably are already adding their songs to your playlists, so keep doing that.)

Phew! Thank you for reading all the way down here.

I’m curious, how do these ideas strike you? Do you feel inspired to try one? Have you experienced someone else doing this for you?

Shoot me a note or a DM: @cortneymatz on IG or cm@cortneymatz.com by email.

Speaking as an artist, I can tell you that even simple acts of support can make a big difference. Next time your artist friend mentions a thing they're creating, try one of these free support options.

See if it doesn’t make you feel great.

And to my fellow artists, if someone takes the time to do one of these for you, please recognize the thought and effort that went into it and give them a heartfelt thank you.

We all need each other. It’s a simple truth of life. Any gesture of support is a GIFT.

For more thoughts on being supportive of your artist friends (and your artist SELF), please enjoy this episode of my musical podcast, Adventurous Spirits: being supportive .

More about my own creative endeavors:

SoMysterio.us games and immersive experiences
Music and musings on creativity

*Not being facetious, this is a real thing I did last summer.

You Are Such A Loser | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 19 Nov 2025 17:16:16 GMT

You Are Such A Loser

By Steven W. Alloway

I want to try something a little different in today’s Spark. Before you read it, watch this video . It’s just under three minutes long. It does have a couple of instances of strong language, though, so maybe use discretion if you’re around young children. I promise you, though, it’s worth your time.

If you’re not in a position to open the video right now, I’ll give you a brief overview: it’s a song by the comedy duo Garfunkel and Oates—an uncharacteristically uplifting song about an unexpected topic. It’s called “Such a Loser,” and it’s all about how trying and failing is something to be celebrated. You tried something new, you put yourself out there, and it didn’t work out. It may even have gone spectacularly wrong. But you still went for it, and that in and of itself is a triumph. You’re a loser. Good for you. You deserve a cheering section, too.

I still remember the first time I heard this song. It resonated with me so much that I immediately decided to include it in my theater group’s annual Christmas show—even though, as you’ll note, it has nothing to do with Christmas. But I found a way to make it fit. After I and another character each suffered devastating setbacks in our individual creative journeys, I sang it as an unlikely bit of encouragement for both of us.

I’m not sure the audience quite understood the point the song was making, When I sang the repeated refrain, “You are such a loser,” they acted like I was just insulting the other character, over and over. There were several exclamations of, “Aw, poor Marc!” rather than the introspection and emotional resonance I was going for. So yeah, I tried something a bit different, and it didn’t go as planned. Fortunately for me, I know a great song to keep in mind when things like that happen.

Part of me wishes I could just leave the article at that, because Garfunkel and Oates make the point so much better than I could. But I do, in fact, have quite a bit of space left to fill. So let’s take a closer look at failure, and why it’s such an important part of success.

Climbing Uphill

The theme this month is persistence, and failure is an important part of that. Without failure, we wouldn’t need to be persistent. Or at the very least, we wouldn’t need to be reminded to be persistent.

“Keep at it! Don’t stop! Stay on the path!”

“Well, duh. Why wouldn’t I? Everything is going great!”

It’s the failures that frustrate us. It’s the failures that embarrass us, make us second-guess ourselves, make us want to throw in the towel. But they’re also why we need to keep going. If you fail, it may mean you’ve done something wrong, but it also means you’re doing something right. And if you don’t fail, it means you’re not doing anything at all.

We often think of our creative journey as linear. We travel up the hill to success. Sometimes we fail. But we learn from it, so that next time, we don’t fail. We navigate around the obstacles, we push on the steep incline, until eventually we reach the top, and that’s the end of our journey. Success! Not failure!

Or at least, we hope it will be like that. We may talk about our creative journeys that way, but we know deep down that it’s more complicated than that. We climb up the hill. Sometimes we stumble and get back up, but sometimes we just fall all the way down, right to the bottom. Even after we get to the top… Sometimes we fall again anyway, and have to climb it again.

You try, you fail, you learn… And then, oftentimes, you fail the next time, too. And the next, and the next. Eventually, if you keep at it, you do reach the top of the hill, and your success. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still fall back down. Fortunately, the next time up, you have the benefit of experience, which hopefully makes the journey easier. That doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though.

It’s not even always necessarily about learning, either. Sometimes, no matter how good you are at what you’re doing, no matter how many times you’ve done it successfully in the past, no matter how prepared you are for what could go wrong, circumstances beyond your control send your plans spiraling towards disaster. By all accounts, this should have been a success. But instead, somehow, it was a failure. You’re a loser. Good for you.

It’s a Mystery

I myself am no stranger to circumstances beyond my control, sending my plans spiraling towards disaster. After all, I do theater. What it’s like to do theater has never been more perfectly summed up than in the movie, Shakespeare in Love .

“Allow me to explain about the theater. The natural condition is one of insurmountable obstacles, on the road to imminent disaster.”

“So what do we do?”

“Nothing. Strangely enough, it all turns out well.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It’s a mystery.”

The phrase, “It’s a mystery,” is repeated several times throughout the rest of the film, whenever the play seems to be going spectacularly wrong—which is frequently. I often use the phrase myself, as a reassurance whenever my own latest theater endeavor is going spectacularly wrong—which is also frequently.

There are a couple of minor changes I’d make to that exchange, though. First, in answer to the question, “What do we do?” the answer is not, “Nothing.” It’s true that help often comes in unexpected forms and from unexpected places. Sometimes, when everything is on the road to imminent disaster, miracles occur, snatching us from the jaws of defeat at the last minute in ways that defy all logic. But it does NOT happen if we just do nothing.

If you sit there and think, “Don’t worry, this will all turn out well,” then it won’t. You work for it. You pound the pavement. You exhaust all of your resources, you find new ones, and you exhaust those too. That’s the only way to get your miracle.

Or, as Julia Cameron put it, “Pray to catch the bus. Then run as fast as you can.”

As It Turns Out…

The other bit I’d change in the Shakespeare in Love quote is, “Strangely enough, it all turns out well.” This is not entirely true. We are, after all, talking about the inevitability of failure on a long-term scale. I’ve done many, many shows in my time. Some of them were great. Some of them were spectacular, even in the face of insurmountable obstacles and imminent disaster.

I’ve also had bad shows before, plenty of times. I’ve had disasters where we were able to roll with the punches and turn them into something great, but I’ve also had things go wrong that I just couldn’t recover from. I’ve had audiences not resonate with what we’re doing, or just not care enough to pay attention. And I’ve had performances with no audiences at all. No, I’m afraid, try as you might, it does not always turn out well.

But it always turns out. That’s the important thing. It might not go well, but it still goes. But you still do it. Then afterwards, you take a beat to recover, and you pick yourself up and try again. Hopefully, it will go better next time. But even if it doesn’t, the fact that you still did it is a badge of honor. Other people would have given up. Other people would have said, “Nah, this isn’t worth it.” But not you. You’re not a quitter. You’re a loser. Good for you.

Not everyone has the courage to lose. It’s easy to laugh at someone who screws up. It’s a lot harder to be the person putting themselves in a position where they can screw up and be laughed at.

There’s a particular line in the “Such a Loser” song that really resonates with me: “You can only fall that far, ‘cause you set yourself up so high.” A spectacular failure is only possible when you make a spectacular attempt. And that attempt is something to be proud of. It’s much better to be the person who falls spectacularly than the person who never climbed up to begin with. They might laugh at you, but what did they ever do that was worth talking about?

The Eternal Glory of Failure

Hopefully, when you fail, you learn from it. Hopefully, you get what you need out of the experience so that you can succeed the next time. Hopefully, this loss is just the prelude to a whole series of wins. But even if not… At the very least, you’ll get a good story out of it. In fact, it may well be a much better story than if you’d won.

“Hey! Do you want to hear the story of how I won that contest?”

Umm… I don’t know. Maybe.

“Hey! Do you want to hear the story of how I almost won that contest?”

Sure, yeah. Let’s hear it.

“Hey! Do you want to hear the story of how I spectacularly lost that contest?”

Absolutely, yes! Any other conversation is irrelevant until I have heard that story from beginning to end.

Most of my best stories are about spectacular failures or ridiculous disasters. They may have been awful to experience in the moment, but in the aftermath, they’re so much fun to tell. One bad experience can provide entertainment for years to come.

And remember, when you’re telling the story, you’re the hero, even if you don’t come out a winner. Those setbacks may have been embarrassing for you in the moment, but when you’re the one telling them, instead of making us laugh at you, they just make us root for you harder. Or at the very least, laugh with you.

Because in the end, they’ve been there too. We can resonate with the story because we’ve all been losers, at times. But the fact that you’re here now means you got through it. You lost, but you kept going, and now you’re able to bare your scars proudly, even laugh about it. That is a story worth telling and worth hearing. You are such a loser. Good for you.

10 Ways to Stay Inspired for the Long Haul | By Becky Murdoch

Wed, 12 Nov 2025 16:32:43 GMT

10 Ways to Stay Inspired for the Long Haul

By Becky Murdoch

1. Find Your People
Community keeps momentum alive when your energy dips. Okay, this one’s obvious since we’re all about finding your people here at Epiphany Space, but there’s a reason for that: it works. I personally get so much more done at our weekly coworking sessions than at any other time of the week. Working alongside other creatives, even online, helps so much!

2. Celebrate Small Wins
Finishing a draft, organizing your desk, sending a pitch - they all count. It’s easy to celebrate the big wins, but what do we do for the small, everyday victories? Instead of rewarding yourself with food or drink, think outside the box. Text your creative friends a fun GIF, repeat a mantra that lifts your spirits, or have a quick dance party (the November Spark Playlist is perfect for that!). Or go old-school and make a sticker chart, simple gold stars, or maybe even a full-on sticker collage. Is that a thing? It should be.

3. Name Your Why
Revisit the reason you create when motivation runs low. This can tie into the “mantra” idea from the last point; what if you printed your creative why and kept it where you can see it? Why do you create? Is it because you can’t not create? Because you can’t bear the idea of a traditional 9-to-5? Or because your art keeps you sane after a day in the office? Whatever your reason, name it. Remind yourself often.

4. Build Rituals Around Your Work

Light a candle, make a playlist, open the same notebook, anchor your creative time. What helps you feel creative? I have specific notebooks for specific projects. For instance, for my Liner Notes project, everything lives in a Donnie Wahlberg notebook (I swear, I don’t buy these things, but I love that people give me so many Donnie-themed items). I also keep a candle on my desk that I try to light when I’m writing my blog. This one’s aspirational for me. I know these small rituals help me focus, but I often forget to use them daily. Habit-building is still a work in progress!

5. Keep a "Done List"
Seeing what you’ve accomplished helps fight the illusion of stagnation. I call this my ta-da list. (I totally stole that phrase from someone, but I can’t remember who.) Sometimes I end the day thinking I’ve done nothing , but when I make a ta-da list, I see how much I’ve actually accomplished. It also helps me notice where my time’s going, like realizing I’ve started three unnecessary emails while writing this paragraph.

6. Refill Your Creative Well
Read, listen, wander, and let inspiration sneak up on you. Take yourself on artist dates and go have fun! What fills your creative well? I’ve written blog posts inspired by movies I’ve seen and dance classes I’ve taken. Anything we love can spark ideas. My mom’s creativity lives in textiles, and much of my childhood was spent walking through fabric stores (harder to find these days!). Wandering around fabric stores or even the mall fills my creative well; the bright colors and creative displays always get my ideas flowing.

7. Mark Your Milestones
Anniversaries, project launches, and creative streaks deserve to be honored. This week, Melissa and I were reflecting on all the big things Epiphany Space has done this year. At first, it was hard to think of many, but looking back at past events and social media posts reminded us how much we’ve done, even in a tough year. What anniversaries are coming up for you? What deserves a little celebration?

8. Turn Down the Noise
Too much input can drown your output; curate what you take in. I usually like working with a lot of background noise, but every so often I just need quiet. There’s so much going on around us all the time. You don’t need to watch one more reel, listen to one more podcast, or talk to one more friend. Maybe you just need a few minutes of silence to let your brain process.

9. Find Creative Peers Who Cheer, Not Compete
A healthy community fuels persistence. Who are the people who cheer you on, and who are the ones who don’t? Spend more time with your encouragers. In one of Brené Brown’s books, she mentions carrying a tiny piece of paper with five names, the people whose opinions actually matter to her. If your name’s not on that list, your opinion doesn’t count. Who’s on your list? Find those people and let them fuel your creativity.

10. Tend to Your Body
Movement, hydration, and sleep all support creative stamina. This tip pops up everywhere, for good reason. It’s important! I feel it more as I get older. It’s like the airplane rule: put your own oxygen mask on first. It’s hard to be creative when you’re tired and cranky. Get up and move. Set a timer for a walk around the block. Keep a pitcher of water on your desk. Take a nap if you need to. It all matters.

Frogs in a Pot of Success: Why Something Is Always Happening, Even When Nothing Is Happening | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 05 Nov 2025 17:27:12 GMT

Frogs in a Pot of Success: Why Something Is Always Happening, Even When Nothing Is Happening

By Steven W. Alloway

“Don’t chase your dreams. Human beings are persistent hunters. Follow behind your dreams at a slow, steady pace, until they get tired and lie down.” This meme, which I’ve seen circulating occasionally on social media, is obviously just meant to be a joke, but still, it makes me wonder: Is there anything to it?

The late, great Mitch Hedberg had another interesting take on the subject: “You know what, man? I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just going to ask where they’re going and hook up with them later.”

Chasing your dreams can be frustrating—especially if you’ve been doing it for a long time. No matter how far you go, it still seems like the goal is way off in the distance. You work hard, you put your all into it, and it feels like nothing comes of it. All of that effort wasted. Why do we keep at it? Is it worth it? Or should we just throw in the towel?

Playing to an Empty House

I think about this sometimes with regard to my theater group, Spirit OnStage. We’ve done at least two shows a year, sometimes more, every year for well over two decades. And yet, when I tell friends, “I’m doing a show with my theater group,” their response quite often is still, “You have your own theater group?”

We talk about the group and what we’re doing. We promote our shows. We invite friends, we invite the community. And we’re still not on anybody’s radar. As such, we’ve been known to perform to nearly empty houses—and in some cases, completely empty ones.

We pour our heart and soul into our shows, and it seems like we’re getting nowhere, reaching no one. I sometimes wonder if this is just how it’s going to be, for the rest of my life. And if so… What’s the point of continuing? When it just turns out the same way, time after time, show after show, what’s the point in doing it at all?

Well, those who know me may have heard my oft-used answer to that: Because the alternative is NOT doing theater, and that would be unthinkable.

It’s true. If you gave me a choice between never performing again, or performing for the rest of my life to nothing but completely empty houses… It would be a devastating decision to make, but it wouldn’t be a difficult one. Audience or not, theater is in my blood and in my soul. I have to do it. Which just makes it all the more frustrating to be stuck in one place.

A Matter of Perspective

Am I stuck in one place, though? It can feel that way sometimes. But what’s my basis for comparison? The audience for this show was disappointing. The audience for the previous show was disappointing. There have been plenty of disappointing audiences throughout my theatrical career. So it feels like it’s always the same.

But the way it feels isn’t always the way it is. You’ve no doubt heard the analogy of the frog in a pot of water. If you try to put it into a pot of boiling water, it will jump out immediately. But if you put it into a pot of room temperature water and slowly turn up the heat, a degree or two at a time, over an hour or two, the frog will stay in the pot, even when it reaches boiling. It’s become gradually used to its surroundings, so it doesn’t notice the heat. The analogy is used to illustrate how we don’t notice the danger or the terrible things around us, when we’ve gotten used to it over time. But it can hold true of good things, too. When progress is slow, we might not even realize when we’ve had success, because it feels basically the same as it did before.

The show I did in June, I was disappointed because there were only 10 people in the audience. Another show, which I did last year, had two performances, and only five or six people each night, tops. They were both major letdowns in a series of major letdowns I’ve had over the years. Why can’t we ever do any better?

But if you had quoted those numbers to our group in 2010, 2011, or 2012, I think we would have seen things differently. Our 2010 Christmas show had three performances, and one of those performances had zero people in the audience. Our 2011 Christmas show, two out of three nights had zero audience members. In 2012, one of our performances was for an audience of one, and one was for an audience of maybe two or three.

All three of those years, our “big crowd” performances were the Sunday matinees. After nonexistent and devastatingly tiny audiences for our evening shows, it was always a welcome relief on Sunday afternoon to see a decent amount of people, finally, come streaming into the theater. How many people did we have at an average matinee? Probably about 10.

The size of the crowd that now makes me throw up my hands and wonder why I keep going is the same size crowd that, 15 years ago, gave us hope. I feel like a failure, but in actuality, I’m just a frog, sitting in a pot of success.

A Reminder of Success

This is why I like Facebook memories. They can add a bit of perspective by providing a snapshot of where you were at different stages of your life. One in particular, a couple of months ago, was a real eye-opener. In early September of 2016, I posted, “I really want to do more projects involving puppets.”

In September of this year, when that showed up in my Facebook memories, I reposted it to my page and added a note. “Dear 2016 Steve: I have good news for you. Sincerely, 2025 Steve.”

I wish that I could talk to my 2016 self and show him some of the photos of our work with puppets, or videos of some of the puppet projects we’ve done, or even just our ever-expanding collection of puppets, which we’ve used in so many shows. So that during the many, many times between then and now when he worries that he’s not doing anything, not moving forward, he can have some idea of just what’s in store. In fact, I’d also show him photos and videos of our trip to Kazakhstan and the shows we did there, so he can see, quite literally, how far he’s going to go.

And likewise, I wish that my future self could do the same for me: let me experience what the pot of success is like in, say, 10 years, and just how jarringly different it is from what it feels like right now. So that I can better understand, in the moment, that some of the things that feel like failures are actually successes.

Persistence Hunters

Unfortunately, Mitch Hedberg was wrong. We can’t just find out where our dreams are going and hook up with them later. We have to take every step of the journey, even when we have no idea where we’re headed and often have trouble remembering where we’ve been, too.

The meme, on the other hand, is at least somewhat correct. We’re persistence hunters. We’re not built for speed. We’re built for endurance. If you sprint towards your goal, it’s going to be a lot more difficult to reach it. Things don’t go the way you thought they would; you get to where you’re going, but it’s still nowhere near where you need to be. It’s frustrating, it’s disappointing, and it can burn you out if that’s all you’re focused on. But if you keep going, keep moving forward, even when the pace seems slow… Your dreams won’t exactly get tired and lie down, but eventually, you’ll catch up with them.

It’s frustrating when things don’t turn out the way I’d hoped. And yeah, I’ll sometimes throw up my hands and wonder what the point is of doing all of this, when it always seems like a failure. But what if I had given up in 2011, when we had two back-to-back performances with zero audience members? We never would have made it to audiences of five or ten.

What if, in 2017, I’d seen my Facebook memory from 2016 and just decided to forget the whole thing, since a year later, I still hadn’t done anything with puppets? I’d never have gotten to experience 2018, when I finally started acquiring puppets and writing them into plays. Or 2021, when they began to become a regular thing in our shows. Or 2024, when we did our first live, in-person, all-puppet performance.

Now, in 2025, there’s a puppet play that I really want to do. I’ve talked about it before. A bizarre and silly, fairytale-esque story called The Pound-a-Line Poet . I’ve been working with puppets, buying puppets, borrowing puppets, making puppets, and having puppets made for seven years now, but this project is still way beyond what I have the resources or the talent to pull off. It’s been on the back burner for a couple of years now, and sometimes it seems like I’ll never get to a point where it’s feasible for our group. It’s tempting just to forget the whole thing and write it off as a silly pipe dream.

But if I forget about it and stop working towards that goal, not only will I miss out on doing the play, I’ll also miss out on everything leading up to that point: all the tiny successes, all the little wins that feel like nothing in the moment, but are actually propelling my group, my project, and me, forward, one step at a time.

That’s why persistence is so important. It’s easy to give up. It’s easy to despair and wonder why things are turning out the way they are—or not turning out the way they aren’t. Why, no matter what we do and how far we go, we still seem so far from our goal. But it’s not a sprint. It’s a marathon.

The longer we keep moving forward, the closer we’ll get, even when the pace seems slow. And the longer we stay in the pot, the more the heat of our success will increase. But only if we stay in the pot—even when it feels like nothing is happening. If we get out, we’ll miss it. But if we stay in the pot, eventually, success will bubble up all around us, and nobody will be able to mistake what’s happening. Not even us.

The Art of Persistence - November 2025 Playlist

Fri, 31 Oct 2025 19:33:34 GMT

Check out our November mixtape, The Art of Persistence, to SPARK your creativity!

The Art of Persistence: Staying Creative for the Long Haul - A soundtrack for resilience and creativity that reminds us to keep pushing, keep dreaming, and keep creating.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

When Art Gets Honest: Risk, Fear, and the Making of “Nebraska”

Wed, 29 Oct 2025 16:05:28 GMT

When Art Gets Honest: Risk, Fear, and the Making of “Nebraska”
By Becky Murdoch

Deliver Me From Fear

This past weekend, my roommate asked if I wanted to see Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere . I’ve been seeing so many movies lately because my friends talked me into getting the AMC A-List thing. Honestly, this is one of those movies that, if I weren’t already paying for tickets, I probably would’ve waited to stream. I’ve never been a big fan of “The Boss.” Of course, he’s incredibly talented, but I just never connected.

I am so glad I saw this one, though.

Don’t worry, this isn’t a movie review. I went in cold, not knowing what slice of life the film would show us. But since we’re still in October and talking about Fear & Creativity: Pushing Past Resistance, it ended up being the perfect movie for me to see.

Without spoiling anything, we enter the story somewhere between the release of Born to Run and Born in the U.S.A. We meet an artist on the cusp of international stardom, wrestling with his past. As the audience, we know what’s coming, but he doesn’t. He’s just come off a major tour and is feeling the isolation that comes when you live in extremes. You need the rest and retreat, but you also miss the energy. I feel that after producing any big event, I can’t imagine what that would be like after a major tour.

We’re watching him at a make-it-or-break-it moment. The next move could either launch him into international fame or completely derail his career.

For me, this movie explored fear from several angles: the fear of what’s coming, the fear of baring your soul, and the fear faced by the people who help bring our creative work into the world, the ones who believe in us but also carry the weight of our risks.

The Fear of What’s Coming

The fear of what’s coming is easy to see in the life of a musician, but familiar to anyone pursuing the creative life. We don’t want to fail, so we don’t try, but we’re also not sure how to handle success if it comes. Will we be able to live up to the hype? To create at the same level for the rest of our careers?

For musicians, there’s often the “sophomore slump”: after having a lifetime to write the first album, they suddenly have only a year or two to write the second. I currently have the line from Mat Kearney’s “In the Middle” running through my brain: “One life to write one, two years to repeat.”

Success brings its own questions. What will it mean for my privacy? Do I even want to be a household name? There’s that iconic picture of the Friends cast on a plane heading to Vegas, or someplace, right before the show premiered; one last trip as unknowns. After that, everything changed. We might be able to predict it, but we can’t control when it happens.

Success asks for a loss of control. It demands risk and faith. It calls us to jump into the very thing that might break us. It’s great to have a plan, but sometimes the magic only happens when we follow our gut.

Enter Nebraska .

Sometimes fear becomes the catalyst for deeper art. While learning about Springsteen’s discography, I was surprised to see where Nebraska landed; it feels like an album that should’ve come later, more reflective and world-weary. But it didn’t. It arrived before “Born in the U.S.A.”, before “Dancing in the Dark”, before “Glory Days”.

The Fear of Baring Your Soul

Nebraska was an act of raw vulnerability. Recorded alone in his New Jersey home on a simple four-track recorder, it’s haunting and unpolished. Influenced by folk music, film, and American literature, but deeply personal.

When we play it safe as artists, we might succeed, but the work lacks resonance. On the flip side, “deep” doesn’t always mean “dark,” it just means true.

In 2025, we have the benefit of therapy being widely accepted and accessible. Take advantage of that. Find a self-care rhythm that works for you and your creative process. At Epiphany Space, we like to say healthy artists create healthy art (we even have a Masterclass about it). So much great art comes from the difficult things we’ve lived through, but we don’t have to relive the pain to create from it. A good therapist or trauma-informed creative coach can help you navigate that space safely.

The Other Side of Fear: The Gatekeepers

This part of the movie stood out to me. We often think the artist is the only one taking a risk, but others are in it too. Managers, producers, label execs, family, if you fail, they might fail as well.

Nebraska wasn’t promoted; full stop. His face wasn’t even on the cover. He wanted listeners to experience the album for themselves. Today, we can build niche audiences and still have a career, but in 1982, that was far less common. This album was a huge risk.

His team chose to back him anyway. Record labels need to sell albums to survive. Managers need artists to manage. Roadies depend on tours for paychecks. The creative ecosystem is full of people who take those risks alongside us.

Next time you go to a movie, stay through the entire credits. Every name represents a paycheck, people whose livelihoods depend on someone’s willingness to take a creative leap.

What Happens When We Play It Safe

When we play it safe, we risk more than failure; we risk being forgettable. We risk creating art that’s superficial or formulaic. Audiences today are savvy; we know when something lacks heart or truth. We’re looking for connection, something real. That only happens when both sides—the artist and the gatekeepers—are willing to take a chance.

The Work Is Worth the Fear

A friend of mine is a classically trained singer. She’s been performing for most of her life, and she still gets anxious before every show. Fear never really leaves us .

So let’s take the pressure off. Creative courage isn’t about being fearless. It’s about creating through fear.

Artists, gatekeepers, and audiences are all called to trust the deeper story, even when it’s not the easy one.

“ Nebraska doesn’t meet anybody halfway—it pulls them in,

transporting the audience to an immersive world where characters,

rather than cathartic performances, are the star attraction.”

Robert Crawford, American Songwriter Magazine (Nov. 22, 2023)

Comfortably Numb – Finding the Opposite of Fear (So We Know to Avoid It) | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 22 Oct 2025 09:19:13 GMT

Comfortably Numb – Finding the Opposite of Fear (So We Know to Avoid It)

By Steven W. Alloway

We’ve been talking this month about fear: how to use it to help us grow, evolve, and broaden our horizons. So with that in mind, as the month winds down, I’d like to ask a question. What’s the opposite of fear? If fear is the means by which we move forward, what is it that’s holding us back? If fear is the means by which we grow and evolve, what’s the thing that keeps us the same? I’ve been thinking about this all week, and the answer isn’t as simple as it seems. But let’s take some time and explore the possibilities.

Your Comfort Zone

The most obvious answer is that the opposite of fear is comfort. After all, when we turn into our fear, we’re turning out of our comfort zone. I’ve talked before about the meme that has a small circle labeled “Your Comfort Zone,” and a much bigger circle a little ways away from it labeled “Where the Magic Happens.”

I love that meme for the simplicity with which it illustrates the concept of embracing fear and leaning into the things that make us uncomfortable. Fear is what we experience when we leave our comfort zone, but magic is too.

The problem is, if we’re trying to find the root of that magic, thinking of it that way may be a little too simplistic. If comfort is in the zone and fear and magic are outside of it, then it follows that comfort is the opposite of fear. So you should steer towards fear and away from comfort, if you want to grow.

But I don’t think that’s necessarily true. If you’re comfortable all the time, then you’re never going to experience the magic. But that doesn’t mean comfort is, in and of itself, bad, or that anything comfortable should be avoided.

Comfort as a Catalyst

I’ve been working with my theater group, Spirit OnStage, for close to three decades. While various members have come and gone, there’s a handful of us—whom we refer to as the “Core Four”—who have been together pretty much that entire time and worked on virtually every show and project the group has done together.

We all know each other well. We know each other’s strengths. When we write scripts, we know how to write for each of our main actors, to play to everyone’s strengths. When we start rehearsals, we all vibe with each other, play off of each other, to turn those scripts into something much more than what they started out as. Suffice it to say, we are all very comfortable with each other.

So if comfort is the opposite of fear, and outside of comfort is where the magic happens, then does that mean our group can’t experience that magic? That we can’t grow creatively? Should we all go our separate ways and find theater groups where we’re uncomfortable, instead? Of course not.

Being comfortable with each other doesn’t mean we just do the same old thing all the time. In fact, just the opposite. Knowing each other’s strengths and what we’re capable of means we’re able to push each other to do new things, both individually and as a group. Individually, knowing what we have done gives us a better perspective on what we COULD do. And as a group, being comfortable with each other gives us the strength to explore new projects and possibilities as a group that we never could have done on our own.

That comfort with each other is what allows us to leap headfirst into projects that are beyond anything we’ve done before. It’s what allowed us, when the Pandemic shut down in-person theater, to start creating shows on Zoom and use the online medium as a strength, rather than a weakness. And it’s what’s allowed us to perform in places from Kazakhstan to Fresno.

If you’re nothing but comfortable all the time with where you are and what you’re doing, and find yourself leaning into the more comfortable option instead of the one that scares you, then that can be a problem and hinder your growth.

But having people, places, projects, and routines that you’re comfortable with can also be a great tool. They can serve as a jumping off point to help you better embrace the things that are less comfortable, but will help you to grow—because you know you’re in a good place, and in good company. So no, I don’t think that comfort is the opposite of fear, or that it’s the thing you should automatically turn away from in order to experience the magic of creative growth.

A Week of Deprivation

In Week 4 of The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron proposes a radical experiment: a full week of no reading. “For most artists,” she says, “Words are like tiny tranquilizers… Like greasy food, it clogs our system.”

When I first read this, I thought it was, as I am often fond of saying, a load of dingo’s kidneys. I’m a writer. Words are my bread and butter. In order to write well, I need not just to read, but to read voraciously. Reading doesn’t stifle my creativity. It stimulates it. An article about Al Capone’s soup kitchen leads to a radio drama about gangsters at Thanksgiving. A book about the Automat leads to a surreal play about the diverse characters who ate there in the 1950s. And a book of fairytales and folktales leads to… probably half the things I write, to be honest. If I were to give up reading, I flat out would not be able to be an artist. That’s a fact.

But if you read the chapter further, there is, in fact, some truth to what she says and some value to the experiment. The point, she tells us, is to experience the world around you, instead of distracting yourself. Instead of having a default activity that you go to to pass the time.

The problem, I think, is emblematic of a larger issue with the book as a whole. It’s full of great advice, great exercises, and great ways of getting in touch with your inner artist. But all, or much of it, comes specifically from Julia Cameron’s own experiences and observations, which are not always as universal as she may think. For instance, in talking about the people in our life who hold us back, who stifle us, who make us feel like we’re not good enough, her first example is nearly always parents. Parents who don’t allow us to pursue creative projects, who tell us that our creative endeavors are a waste of time, and who force us into more “sensible” occupations instead.

My parents were never like that. My parents were always about the most supportive people you could imagine. I would not be the artist I am today without having grown up always having both of them in my corner. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t also had people throughout my life who didn’t do that. I’ve had people who stifled me, who told me I wasn’t good enough, who held me back from doing the creative things I wanted to do. It’s just that, in contrast to Julia Cameron’s fallback examples, my parents were never among those people.

The Things That Keep Us Numb

Likewise, reading has never been a tranquilizer for me. It’s not something I use to distract me from what’s going on around me, and rather than clog my system, it stimulates me creatively. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have things in my life that do clog, distract, and tranquilize me.

These days, for a lot of us, that thing can be social media. The endless scrolling through the world in our hands, which keeps us from experiencing the world that’s in front of our faces—or would be, if we only tilted our faces up a few degrees, instead of pointing them at our phones.

Now, I actually hate the stereotype of “these kids today and their phones,” because it’s reductive. It assumes that if you’re scrolling on your phone, you’re isolated from the world and not doing anything productive or worthwhile. But social media can be an incredibly useful tool that connects us to others and stimulates creativity in all sorts of ways. Likewise, books, newspapers, magazines, etc., can isolate and distract us, making us numb to the world around us.

That’s the key: numbness. That’s the opposite of fear. Fear—when we learn to embrace it and lean into it—stimulates us, moves us to action, and points us toward new and exciting things. Numbness keeps us where we are. It shuts us off, keeps us in the same holding pattern, content to stay where we are while the world passes us by.

And the sad truth of it is, social media is excellent in that regard. An excellent tool? Sure, if it’s used properly. But also a huge time suck, if it’s not. The algorithms are designed to latch on to what we respond to and keep giving us more of that: the posts we’re most likely to interact with, the videos we’re most likely to stop and watch, the memes we’re most likely to share. Giving us just enough stimulation to keep us scrolling and to keep us coming back for more, but most of the time, not actually helping us to grow or to move forward on our creative journey.

A Week of Deprivation - Redux

So let’s try an experiment. In fact, let’s try a version of the experiment that Julia Cameron suggests. What would happen if you gave up social media for a week? Does the thought of that scare you? Does it immediately trigger a bunch of excuses for why you can’t or shouldn’t do it, why it would be impractical, or how much you would miss if you did it? Because that was my reaction. Which I immediately took as a sign that I should probably do it. Remember, leaning into the fear is how we grow and move forward. Leaning into the numbness is how we get stuck where we are. And when I’m scrolling on social media, I definitely feel stuck where I am.

Maybe the thought doesn’t scare you. Maybe you’re thinking, “A week off of social media? I could do that standing on my head!” Well, then, that’s probably not the thing that’s numbing you. So what is? Only you can answer that. Maybe it’s TV or video games. Maybe it really is reading. Think about what it is you do when you have nothing else to do. What do you reach for when there’s a lull? Now, how many “lulls” are there in a day? How quick are you to pick up that thing, and how slow are you to put it down? And while you’re doing that thing, how much else are you missing out on?

Once you’ve found that thing, now think again: What if you gave it up for a week? Did you just get a little scared? Then you should probably do it. Don’t worry. The thing will still be there waiting for you when the week is over.

But in the meantime, think of how much you’ll be able to see, do, and experience, without that thing to numb you. Think of how tuned in to the world you’ll be, without that thing as a distraction. And think of how far you’ll be able to go on your creative journey, without that thing holding you back. Your inner artist will thank you. Well, as soon as it stops retching in fear.

Doing It Scared: Five Moments That Changed Me | By Becky Murdoch

Wed, 15 Oct 2025 16:20:27 GMT

Doing It Scared: Five Moments That Changed Me
By Becky Murdoch

I think I've written about my Jar of Badassery in the Spark before. It's my little jar of remembrance of all of the badass things I've done. The jar itself is up-cycled from what I'm guessing was a spaghetti sauce jar. My friends Justine and Rachelle saved all of their change and gave it to me when I moved to Nashville. It has a piece of masking tape with "Send Becky to Nashville" written on it. That was probably the first badass thing that I ever did. I dropped out of college and worked at a record label in Nashville. Should I have dropped out of college with one semester left? Maybe not. Do I regret that choice? Absolutely not!

Our October theme is Fear & Creativity: Pushing Past Resistance, and that got me digging a bit deeper into my Jar of Badassery. I needed to remember the things I've done that scared me, that I did anyway.

Every time I've stretched creatively, fear has been right there with me — but so has growth.

Here's a look at five things I've done that have absolutely terrified me.

1. Belly Dancing

As I was thinking about what to write for this week, I struggled. Then I saw a note that I had written on a Post-it a couple of weeks ago. I think the writing of the note was prompted by something Melissa said during one of our weekly coworking sessions. I recently started taking a belly dancing class, and to be honest, I'm not great. I feel uncoordinated and uncomfortable in my own body. Even with all of those things, I show up every month and dance. I get frustrated in the middle of class and stop for a minute to adjust. I keep going back, and I'm still not great, but I am getting better.

It's a small class right now, just two or three of us on any given week. That's so intimidating, but it's also made me let go of needing to be perfect. The last couple of classes we have been learning turns. I get what I'm supposed to be doing, but somehow my feet don't end up where they are supposed to. My instructor thinks we're doing great, and you know what? By the end of the last class, I was landing those turns. I'm not getting on a stage anytime soon, but I am staying open and curious while allowing myself to be bad at something.

The thing about belly dancing is that it forced me to make peace with the messy middle. That uncomfortable space where you're not a beginner anymore, but you're definitely not a dancer. You're just someone showing up, repeatedly, even when you feel ridiculous. And somehow, that's where the real magic happens.

2. Improv Class

This was a big one. I hate to perform. Really, I hate to be seen. Unless I'm with my friends, I really don't like to be the center of attention. I want to control when people are looking at me. This class made me do silly things in front of my classmates, and I hated it. Really, hated every minute of it, but just like belly dancing, I went back. I might have watched the clock, but I went back.

Learning the "yes, and…" principle helped to loosen me up and helped me to drop the fear. There's something about committing to yes, to building on what someone else offers instead of shutting it down, that makes you realize the outcome doesn't need to be perfect. It just needs to exist. And when you stop trying to control how you look to others and just say yes to the experience, something shifts. I'm still not comfortable being the center of attention, but I'm a lot more comfortable being ridiculous about it.

3. Assistant Directing a Musical

I still don't know how this one happened. My friend asked me if I wanted to assistant direct a musical she was working on. I didn't know the Director and had never done anything except go to see a musical. It was a lot of long nights, and it was far away from work and home, but I did it.

The whole time I was thinking, "Who am I to do this? I have no experience. People are going to figure me out." But here's what I learned: nobody really knows what they're doing the first time. We're all just doing our best, asking questions when we need to, and trusting that we'll figure it out. I learned more about myself, about leadership, about telling a story through movement and blocking than I ever expected. And the show? It was beautiful. And I had a hand in that.

4. Starting Salute Your Shorts Film Festival

Who knew that a conversation in a parking lot after church would lead to co-founding Salute Your Shorts Film Festival just a short five months later? Not me. I remember standing there, talking about film and community and how we wanted to celebrate short filmmakers, thinking this was just a nice idea. A dream. Something people talk about and then forget about.

But we didn't forget about it. We actually did it. We built something from nothing — from a parking lot conversation to a real festival. There were so many moments where I thought, "We can't actually pull this off," but we did. And every time I doubted it, I also felt something underneath that doubt: excitement. The two lived right next to each other. Fear and exhilaration are closer cousins than I ever realized.

5. Starting My Blog, No Sex in the City

When I started writing this blog, I felt the weight of every "Who do you think you are?" that echoed in my head. Who am I to write this? Who am I to share my voice? What if nobody reads it? What if somebody does, and they don't like it? What if I'm boring? What if I'm not?

The voice of resistance was loud. It still is, honestly. Every time I sit down to write, there's that little voice asking me why I think my words matter. But here's what I've learned: that voice doesn't get to decide. I get to decide. And I've decided that showing up, even when it feels vulnerable and terrifying, is worth it. Publishing anyway is an act of courage — creativity demands visibility. It demands that we put ourselves out there, unfiltered and imperfect, and hope that someone reads it and feels less alone.

So I write anyway. Some posts are vulnerable. Some are messy. Some might miss the mark completely. But they're honest, and they're mine.

Fear as a Compass

When I look at my Jar of Badassery, I don't see a collection of times I was fearless. I see a collection of times I was terrified and did it anyway. I belly-danced badly. I did improv and felt humiliated. I assistant directed without any business doing so. I co-founded a festival on a hunch. I started writing in public.

And here's what ties all of these things together: fear wasn't a stop sign. It was a signal. A signal that I was on the edge of something, standing at the threshold between who I was and who I might become. And every single time, I chose to step through that threshold anyway.

Fear walks beside me, but creativity leads. And that's how I know I'm going somewhere worth going.

So here's my question for you: What creative thing scares you right now? What's sitting in your chest, whispering that you can't do it, that you're not ready, that you don't know how? I'm willing to bet that's exactly the thing you need to do. Drop out of college (Ok, maybe don’t do that. I don’t know, do what’s right for you.). Take the dance class. Say yes. Build something. Write it down. Show up.

Do it anyway. And maybe someday, you'll have your own jar full of proof that fear is just the price of admission for a life worth living.

Fear and Regret: Your Tools for Better Decision Making | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 08 Oct 2025 15:43:08 GMT

Fear & Regret: Your Tools for Better Decision Making

By Steven W. Alloway

A couple of years ago, I accepted an offer to be in a play, purely out of spite. Not out of spite for the director, the other actors, or anyone else involved in the show. Nor out of spite for the theater company or anyone who might be in the audience. No, it was out of spite for an article I read.

I don’t remember much about it, but it was something about metrics to help you make decisions, particularly with regards to evaluating opportunities and taking on new projects. If you’re faced with the possibility of, for instance, quitting your job, going on a trip somewhere, or taking on some new responsibility, and you’re unsure of whether or not you should do it, the article listed a number of guidelines that could help you decide.

At the time, I was, in fact, faced with just such a decision. I’d been offered a part in a show. I didn’t know if I wanted to take the part or not. On the one hand, it could be fun. It was with a theater company that I generally enjoy working with. On the other hand, it would be a lot of time, a lot of work, and a lot of gas going back and forth to rehearsals—not to mention, most of the cast was people I didn’t know. Did I really want to commit to doing a show right then, when I knew all of that was in store?

My pending decision wasn’t the reason why I was reading the article. It was just something I happened across and thought it looked interesting. And particularly since many of the points it made were about business decisions, rather than artistic ones, I didn’t even think about the play until I was about halfway through. And then I saw it:

“If your answer isn’t an enthusiastic yes, then it’s a no. If you’re having doubts or reservations, or you’re not super excited to take on the project, then don’t do it.”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” I thought. “If I waited until I had no doubts or reservations, until I was overwhelmingly enthused, to say yes to a project, then I’d literally never do anything.”

There have been plenty of times in my life where I wasn’t sure about a project, or was just kind of lukewarm about it, but I did it anyway. And it turned out to be an incredible experience. An experience I’d have missed out on if I had decided I wasn’t enthusiastic enough and turned it down.

So with that in mind, I stopped reading and immediately emailed the director, “I’m in,” on this show I was apprehensive about, purely to spite the terrible, stupid advice in that article. And sure enough, the show ended up being a great experience, and something I’m glad I didn’t miss.

“Only do it if you’re enthusiastic about it” may sound like good advice on the surface, but it fails to take into consideration two of the most important factors when it comes to making decisions: Fear and Regret. Without them, you have no hope of growing as an artist or as a person. Not only that, but your life will be incredibly boring.

Embracing Fear

I think I’ve talked before about some much better advice I’ve gotten with regards to taking on projects and making decisions: If you’re scared to do something, it’s a sign you should probably do it. I’ve even heard it said that, at any given time, you should always have at least one thing on your plate that terrifies you to your core.

The only way to grow, to evolve, to expand your horizons, is to do things that are out of your comfort zone. Which means agreeing to do things even though they scare you. Which means agreeing to do things BECAUSE they scare you.

Maybe it scares you because you think you’re not ready. Maybe it scares you because you think you’re not good enough. Maybe you’re afraid you’ll screw it up. Maybe you’re afraid of embarrassing yourself, doing something you’ve never done before. Well, let me address those fears one by one.

1. You will never be ready. Or at least, you will never FEEL ready. Not really, not fully. Do it anyway.

2. “Good enough” is relative. You are absolutely good enough to put yourself out there and try. But as far as being actually good at something goes, you never will be unless you start doing it, and keep doing it. So do it.

3. You absolutely will screw it up. Often. Sometimes royally. Go for it anyway. Screwing up is part of the process. If you’re not screwing up, you’re not learning.

4. You will definitely embarrass yourself, too. But not nearly as badly as you think you’re going to. Most of the time, people won’t notice. And if they do, they’ll typically forgive you. Why? Because if they know enough about what you’re doing to see that you’ve embarrassed yourself, it most likely means they’ve also embarrassed themselves in a similar way, probably many times.

Flub your line in a play? Generally, even if you pause and stumble over your words a little, most of the audience will have no idea. The only people who will know you got the line wrong are the people who know the play you’re doing—and they also know how hard the play is to learn, because they’ve done it.

Play a wrong note in a musical performance? Same deal. The people who can tell the note is wrong can also see how hard you’ve had to work to get to the point where you are now. And they’ll respect you for that.

Like making mistakes, embarrassment is also part of the process. You screw up, you get embarrassed, you learn from it, you get better. You’ll never actually reach a point where you stop screwing up, or getting embarrassed. But if you stick with it long enough, you can reach a point where fewer and fewer people actually understand the nuances of what you’re doing well enough to notice the mistakes you make.

The bottom line is this: If you only do the things you’re enthusiastic about, that leaves no room for apprehension, for anxiety, for pure, abject terror. It leaves no room for taking risks. And if you’re not taking risks in your creative journey, then it’s not really a journey at all. Just a casual stroll around the same general area, again and again.

But if you push through the apprehension and take on projects that scare you, it can help you conquer those fears. Once you come out on the other side, you’ll look at what you were so afraid of and be able to say, “I did it!” And then hopefully, the next time it won’t be so scary. Instead, it will be a part of who you are and what you can do—part of a real creative journey, to destinations you’ve never imagined.

Of course, once you conquer your fear, then you’ll have to find something else to do that scares you. And don’t worry, you will. As you get better, go further, climb higher, you’ll find things to scare you that right now you’ve never even considered. It’s a world of terrors out there. But it’s also a world of opportunities. And the only way to the latter is through the former.

Pushing Past Regret

“Screwing up is one thing,” I hear you say. “But what if I take on this project, and it’s a total disaster? What if it’s a terrible experience, and I end up hating and regretting it?” Let me tell you something about regret. I’ve made many, many mistakes in my life. I’ve screwed up plenty of times and in plenty of ways. But there are very few things that I regret doing. When I think back on my regrets, most of them are things I didn’t do.

Sometimes you may have bad experiences. Sometimes you may even wish you hadn’t agreed to do the project at all. But typically, those regrets last only about as long as the experience does. Once it’s over, you’ll move on to the next project, and the terrible time you had will be quickly forgotten. You might think back, a few years from now, “Oh, what a lousy experience that was,” but you won’t be thinking, “I wish I hadn’t done it.” You might even be thinking, “Wow, what a story that was.”

On the other hand, if you don’t do it, that’s when, years from now, you’ll look back and say, “I wish I had.” Whatever excuse you have for not doing it will seem petty and trivial. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had the opportunity to go places and do things that seemed awesome, but ended up turning them down, because I just didn’t feel like going.

Then, a week, a month, a year later, I’ll find myself thinking, “Wait… That actor from that TV series I really like was doing a show within a half-hour drive of me… And I didn’t go because I didn’t feel like looking for parking?” In the moment, it seemed like a valid reason, but in hindsight, it feels ridiculous, and all I see is the opportunity I missed.

A Regrettable Experience

A few months after I did the show I talked about earlier, a good friend from that same theater group invited me to do another show that he was producing/acting in, and another friend of ours was directing. It sounded like it could be fun, and I had nothing else going on at the time, so I agreed to join the cast.

Then at the first rehearsal, it turned out there had been some miscommunication. Both the play and the part I’d been cast in were very different from what I thought they’d be. When the director explained her vision for the show, I was very uncomfortable with the whole thing. If I’d known from the beginning what I was getting myself into, I would have turned it down. But I’d already agreed, already come to rehearsal, and it’s my policy never to drop out of a show once I’m on board. So I soldiered on.

“And it ended up being a much better experience than you thought it would be, and you had a lot of fun and grew as an actor and as an artist, right?” No. The show was an unmitigated disaster from beginning to end. My policy of never dropping out of a show was tested repeatedly, but it remained firm—which put me one up on the director, who walked out the night before dress rehearsal and never came back. It was not a good experience, and I spent most of my time looking forward to when the run would be over and I could put the whole thing behind me.

Then, a couple of months later, my friend, who had produced the show and recruited me for the cast, died, very suddenly and completely unexpectedly. That terrible, stupid show was the last time I ever worked with him. It may have been a miserable experience at the time, but I don’t regret it for a minute. And when I think about that show now, I don’t think about the discomfort, the chaos, the total upheaval. I think about the time spent sharing the stage with my friend.

I spent a few weeks regretting that show. But if I hadn’t done it, I know that I would regret it to this day. And what’s more, even before my friend died, the regrets of that show had mostly faded. It was a bad experience, sure. But once it was over, you know what it became? A heck of a story. I’ve found that’s true with most regrettable experiences. The awkward or unpleasant part ends quickly. But the stories last forever.

Balancing Boundaries

When it comes to making decisions, fear and regret shouldn’t mean an automatic no. But obviously, they shouldn’t mean an automatic yes, either. They’re both factors in your decision, and they can be positive factors. But they’re not the only factors. In other words, it’s still important to have boundaries.

In fact, not being comfortable with something often IS a good reason not to do it. There could be health and safety issues—both physical and emotional. There could be red flags that make you reevaluate the situation. Or you could just legitimately not have the time or the energy, or prefer to take a break rather than diving into something new. All of that is valid.

But when making these decisions and setting your boundaries, the most important thing is to be in touch with why. If the reason is that you’re scared or uncomfortable, follow that thread further. Why does this scare you? What would or could happen if you do this thing? What would or could happen if you don’t? What benefits could there be in saying yes? What regrets could there be? Will you still be thinking about those regrets six months after the project is over? And how much and how long will you regret it if you say no?

If, after considering all of this, you still want to say no, then by all means, go ahead and say no. But go in with your eyes open. Understand why you’re saying no, and make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. Because if the only thing holding you back is a vague, “I’m scared, and I might regret it,” then you’re missing out on so many incredible things.

80s After Dark - October 2025 Playlist

Sun, 05 Oct 2025 02:11:44 GMT

Check out our October mixtape, 80s After dark, to SPARK your creativity!

80s club hits and dark dance floor grooves.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

From Fear to Flow: 8 Prompts to Get You Started | By Becky Murdoch

Wed, 01 Oct 2025 16:43:07 GMT

From Fear to Flow: 8 Prompts to Get You Started

By Becky Murdoch

So, the other day, I was having coffee with some friends when one of them mentioned she was working on a new project. She’s an animator, so of course, knowing she always has a sketchbook with her, we asked if we could take a peek. The work was incredible. And, these were just her practice sketches! She pulled out her phone so we could see a few pieces she’d worked on at home. Mind blown! I mean, I can draw a stick figure, but they aren’t great…

It was pretty fun to see her process—just exercises to practice drawing the same character’s face from multiple angles. It wasn’t about perfection; it was about learning the hard lines and shapes so that when she got to her real project, the drawing would feel fluid and natural. Watching her share this work reminded me that creativity often grows in the space between fear and freedom. What she saw as “not good enough to show” turned out to be the very thing that inspired me most.

That conversation got me thinking about the ways that fear can hold us back. We worry our practice isn’t polished enough, our drafts aren’t ready, or our ideas aren’t worth pursuing. But often, those practice sessions are where the magic begins. Sometimes we just need the right nudge to get past that inner critic and step into the process.

So here are 8 creative prompts designed to break through fear —gentle pushes that can help you move past resistance and rediscover the joy of making.

1. Set a timer for 10 minutes and create nonstop without editing, erasing, or second-guessing.

I love a good timer; I have an hourglass sitting on my desk that often helps me get started. Since fear often shows up as hesitation—the visual timer stops the impulse to polish or rethink before an idea has had a chance to breathe. By giving yourself just ten minutes to spill words onto a page, sketch without lifting the pencil, or play a string of notes without repeating them, you remove the possibility of perfectionism taking the wheel.

There’s something magical about this momentum. In ten minutes, you likely won’t create something “finished,” but you’ll create something alive. Try it. See what rawness you find in these ten minutes of work and let it start to train you to trust the process rather than the outcome.

2. Tell the story of your biggest creative failure—but end it like a comedy.

If you’re like me, you like to replay our failures like cautionary tales. What if we got in the habit of reframing them instead? Write about the time your painting flopped, your story was rejected, or your performance went sideways. But instead of ending with self-doubt and shame, turn it into comedy: exaggerate the scene, add a ridiculous twist, or imagine the audience roaring with laughter instead of criticism.

This reframing gives failure less power. By turning it into something humorous, you remind yourself that mistakes aren’t the end of your creative identity—they’re just part of the plot. This reminds me, I need to start writing my one-woman-show about my dating life as a horror-comedy.

3. Describe the sound of your fear—then turn it into a rhythm, poem, or song lyric.

Ok, go with me on this one. Fear doesn’t just live in our thoughts; it has a sensory quality. Maybe it buzzes like static, thumps like a heartbeat, or screeches like brakes on pavement. Start by describing the sound of your fear as vividly as possible, then push further: What rhythm does it make? What words would match its cadence?

By translating fear into music or poetry, you shift its energy. Suddenly, fear isn’t an invisible wall—it’s something you can play with. You reclaim control, transforming what once stopped you into something that sings.

4. Write a scene where your fear is a character that you defeat, trick, or befriend.

This one works when I’m watching horror movies, so it will probably work for real life fear! Resistance feels less overwhelming when you give it a face, a voice, or even a ridiculous costume. Imagine your fear as a character: maybe a grumpy old man, a bossy critic, or a dragon with stage fright. Now put yourself in a scene with it. Do you defeat it in a duel? Outsmart it in a game of wits? Or sit down for coffee and discover it’s not as scary as it looks?

Personifying fear makes it manageable. When fear is a character in your story, you’re no longer its victim—you’re its author. That shift of power opens space for creativity to flow.

5. Collaborate with resistance: ask, “If fear was my co-writer, what would it add?”

Our fear is typically trying to keep us safe. It’s not always the bad guy, so what if, instead of trying to banish resistance, you invited it in? Write a paragraph, a sketch, or a melody, then pause and ask: “What would fear add here?” Maybe it’s a darker tone, an unexpected tension, or a sarcastic voice. Incorporate it deliberately, and suddenly fear isn’t blocking your creativity—it’s fueling it.

This doesn’t mean letting fear control the work. It means harnessing its perspective. Resistance often points to what matters most. By giving it a role rather than a veto, you transform it from enemy to collaborator.

6. Make something absurd—a poem about toast, a sketch of a singing chair—just to remind yourself creativity doesn’t have to be serious.

Fear thrives on pressure: the belief that every creative act must be brilliant, meaningful, or worthy of sharing. The antidote? Play. Write a sonnet about toast. Draw a chair belting out opera. Invent a nonsense word and give it a dictionary definition.

Absurdity loosens fear’s grip because there’s no way to “fail” at it. When you let yourself play, you rediscover the joy of creativity without the heavy weight of expectation. Sometimes silliness is the doorway back to flow.

7. Create something tiny: a haiku, a 3-line story, a sketch the size of a sticky note.

Fear can balloon projects until they feel impossible to start. A novel is terrifying; three sentences aren’t. A canvas feels daunting; a sticky-note sketch doesn’t. Shrink your project down until it’s too small to scare you, and begin there.

The point isn’t to stay small forever—it’s to bypass the paralysis of scale. Once you’ve created something tiny, you’ve proven to yourself that you can begin. And beginnings, more often than not, are what fear is most afraid of.

8. Redefine bravery: list 5 small, creative risks you’ve taken that others might not notice.

Fear whispers that bravery only counts when it’s grand—publishing the book, exhibiting the art, stepping onstage. But bravery often looks smaller: sharing a draft with a friend, trying a new technique, or returning to the page after a long pause.

Make a list of five risks you’ve already taken, no matter how small they seem. This practice reframes your narrative: you are already braver than fear wants you to believe. By honoring the quiet risks, you build the courage to take the louder ones.

Some Candor About Ebb | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 24 Sep 2025 17:16:21 GMT

Some Candor About Ebb

By Steven W. Alloway

A number of my friends have been going through some difficult times lately. I have friends dealing with loss, hospitalization, financial difficulties, and other personal issues—not to mention the general state of the world right now, which I don’t think is going to start curing any sleepless nights anytime soon, regardless of your beliefs or your position on the political spectrum.

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks myself. To be honest, my problems seem fairly petty when compared with what I know other people are going through right now, but that doesn’t mean those problems haven’t taken their toll. Things have been frustrating, to say the least. For a lot of us.

So in light of all of that, the question I want to pose is this: Can we still be creative during these difficult and frustrating life episodes? Can we still make great art? And the answer is: Sometimes. I mean, yes, absolutely. But it’s more complicated than that. Much like life.

Suffering For Your Art

There are those who will tell you that in order to create great art, you must suffer. There is something to it. Going through difficult circumstances is how we grow and mature, and growing and maturing is one of the ways that our art evolves and improves.

And plenty of art springs directly from pain and difficult circumstances as well, both internal and external. Were it not for the socioeconomic upheaval in Russia in the 19th century, Anton Chekhov would never have written The Cherry Orchard . Without the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, John Steinbeck would never have written The Grapes of Wrath . And had Jake Gyllenhaal not broken her heart and stolen her scarf, Taylor Swift never would have given us All Too Well .

There are countless other examples of amazing, beautiful things springing from terrible times and bad situations. So we look at the art that comes from pain, and we glorify the pain. “That’s where true art comes from!” That’s a load of dingo’s kidneys. Pain is part of life. But so is pleasure. Bad times are inevitable, but so are good times. And the world goes ‘round.

But “true art” comes from both. Our growth as people, as well as our evolution as artists, requires both the good and the bad. The mentality of, “I’m not creating great art because I’m not suffering enough” is hogwash. Suffering doesn’t turn people into great artists. Great artists channel their suffering into art to make the best of a bad situation. But they can do the same thing with good situations.

Compare and Despair

On the flip side, it’s also easy to think that, when suffering does come along, we need to be channeling it into art. We look at those great artists, creating great things out of their pain. Then we look at our own difficult times and think, “Why am I not creating art right now? Other people take their pain and turn it into diamonds. While all I’m doing is sitting on the couch, eating Cheez-Its, and re-watching The Big Bang Theory . I must be terrible and worthless.”

You’re not creating art at the same rate as someone else, in similar circumstances. So you look at them and feel inferior. Then that feeling of inferiority makes it even harder to find the motivation to be creative. It becomes a vicious cycle.

But it’s important to remember that you’re not them. This month, we’ve explored the ebb and the flow of creativity. But everyone ebbs and flows differently. Just because someone else is flowing while you’re ebbing doesn’t make them better, or you worse. You may need your ebb now and your flow later, while someone else may need to flow first and then ebb afterwards. It’s entirely possible that, while you’re having your flow of creativity, they’ll be looking at you and thinking, “Wow, I wish I could create like them.”

That’s another thing to remember: You never know what someone else is thinking or feeling. What something looks like on the outside often isn’t anything like how it feels to the person going through it.

You may see a person creating great art while they’re struggling and think that they’re handling things really well, when really, they’re barely hanging on, or headed for burnout. And likewise, especially in the midst of terrible circumstances, you may think you’re not doing enough, that you’re lacking or deficient—but there’s a good chance someone else is looking at you and is amazed at all that you’re accomplishing.

Art and Healing

Another important thing to remember is that creating art takes energy: physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional energy. And dealing with worry, anxiety, depression… That saps all of those types of energy, very quickly. But you don’t always see it in the moment. In your own mind, you’re not actually DOING anything, so why don’t you have the energy or the motivation to create? You must be lazy. You must be inferior.

But you are doing something. You’re healing. Sometimes that takes all the energy you have. And it often takes time, too. Much of that healing happens beneath the surface, so it’s easy to think that nothing’s happening. But it is. Even while you’re sitting on the couch, eating Cheez-Its and re-watching The Big Bang Theory . Sometimes, that’s what you need.

Feeling Out the Seasons

Art can be an important part of healing as well. But like everything, it takes time. After all, the healing process is just that: a process. Art and creativity can be part of that process, but they’re not the only part.

The problem is, often, all we see is the moment we’re in. If we’re not being creative today, right now, then we’ve failed. But today’s healing work might look very different from yesterday’s, or tomorrow’s. And they’re all important to the process.

In talking about the need for and the process of healing during difficult circumstances, I can’t think of a better example than 2020, when we were all suddenly thrust headfirst into a major, international public health crisis. For many, the need for healing was literal. But even for those of us who didn’t get sick, dealing with the Pandemic proved to be a major crisis, personally, emotionally, and existentially.

But at the same time, for those of us who weren’t sick, dealing with that crisis looked a lot like just sitting at home doing nothing. Scrolling on social media, looking at our friends posting their latest loaf of sourdough, or the sweater they’ve just knitted, or just memes about famous composers, authors, and playwrights who churned out some of the best art in history while they were in quarantine.

That’s how I was, particularly in the first couple of months of the Pandemic. Stay-at-home orders were issued. Life was put on hold. No excuse for not spending all my newfound free time writing new stories for publication, scripts for production, etc.

“I’ve got nothing else to do!” I thought to myself quite a bit. “Why am I just sitting here watching TV instead of taking this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to create great art?”

Well, the reason was because all around me, people I cared about were getting sick, the news was filled with stories about how many people were dying, overcrowded conditions in hospitals, overworked doctors and nurses… And there seemed to be no end in sight. Just processing all of that on a daily basis, trying to get through it, took more energy than I was prepared to use and left me without a lot of motivation for creating art.

That was at first. However, slowly but surely, the seasons changed. And gradually, creating art did become part of my healing process and a way to deal with the chaos going on all around. It didn’t look like I thought it would, though. I was berating myself for not working on any of the thousand unfinished projects I had languishing in folders on my computer. If not now, then when? But it turned out, finishing old projects in order to “make good use of my time” wasn’t what I needed.

What I needed was a distraction, a way to connect with my friends… and plenty of cookies. So I started a livestreamed baking show. Just privately, on my Facebook page. I set my phone on a tripod and talked my way through making some of my favorite recipes, while responding to comments left by my friends tuning in. I did this weekly for a few months. I came to look forward to it, and a number of my friends told me they did too. Eventually, I had requests for different recipes to make, and even a theme song.

That was the beginning of the flow. It felt like more of a trickle. But from there, I was able to work on other creative endeavors as well. I wrote some stories. I did a socially distanced monologue for Zombie Joe’s Underground. And my theater group, Spirit OnStage, started staging livestreamed plays on Zoom. We started with staged readings, then gradually evolved to more complex productions that explored the platform and what you could do with it in a number of different ways.

In retrospect, while it wasn’t in the way I expected, the Pandemic ended up being one of the most prolific creative times in my life. And the plays I wrote for Zoom are some of the best I’ve ever written. But it took some time to get there. The ebb had to come before the flow. Both were necessary for getting through an incredibly difficult time.

There are a lot of times in our lives, especially when it comes to healing and recovery, when our creative processes require both ebb and flow. When that happens, though, it can be easy to focus on the ebb. To feel guilty about the ebb. To get demoralized, which in turn only serves to make the ebb stronger.

We have to trust the healing process. We have to trust that the ebb in creativity is part of it—but that it’s only one part. The flow is part of the process too. If we can give the ebb a chance to do what it needs to, without feeling guilty about it, without comparing ourselves to others who seem to be doing more than we are, then sooner or later, we’ll get back to the flow that helps us to heal through creation and through art.

7 Ways to Embrace Your Creative Ebbs Without Feeling Like a Failure | By Becky Murdoch

Wed, 17 Sep 2025 15:20:25 GMT

7 Ways to Embrace Your Creative Ebbs Without Feeling Like a Failure

By Becky Murdoch

As artists, writers, or makers, we know the frustration of the “ebb” season. Those times when energy dips, ideas stall, and nothing seems to flow. It’s so easy to slip into guilt and think you’re failing, but it’s important to remember that creativity isn’t meant to be constant output.

The ebb is not failure; it’s an invitation.

Here are seven ways to embrace the quiet seasons of creativity without feeling like a failure.

1. Journal to Process

When you’re not feeling productive, you can still use the time to process. Use your journal as a safe place to capture random ideas, half-formed thoughts, or even complaints about feeling stuck. Sometimes the act of writing down “I don’t feel creative today” is exactly what clears the way for tomorrow’s creativity.

2. Take a Stroll

Movement and nature often unlock what sitting at your desk can’t. A slow walk helps you breathe differently, notice details, and create mental space. Pay attention to small things — the rhythm of your steps, the color of the sky, or a line of overheard conversation. That noticing is creative practice.

3. Consume Before You Create

I know, this seems backwards but instead of pressuring yourself to produce, let yourself soak up art. Read poetry, listen to an old record, rewatch a favorite film, or wander a museum. Input seasons matter as much as output seasons — you’re filling the well so future work can pour out.

4. Collaborate Lightly

If solo work feels impossible, join someone else’s. Collaborations don’t always have to be heavy lifts; they can be simple exchanges. Try a group doodle session, jam with a musician friend, or offer feedback on someone’s draft. Sometimes stepping into another artist’s momentum reignites your own.

5. Practice Micro-Creativity

Not every creative act has to be a masterpiece. Try tiny things: scribble a haiku, snap an interesting photo on your phone, rearrange a bookshelf by color, make a playlist. Micro-creativity keeps the muscles engaged without pressure.

6. Redefine Rest as Work

Rest is part of the creative cycle. Instead of feeling guilty about downtime, remind yourself that your subconscious is composting ideas beneath the surface. Trust that the “pause” is productive, even when it doesn’t look like it.

7. Revisit Old Work with Kindness

Look back at what you’ve already made — old notebooks, forgotten drafts, early paintings, rough recordings. Revisiting past work can remind you of your growth and spark fresh inspiration. Sometimes the best way forward is hidden in something you left behind.

The ebb is not wasted time. It’s the part of the creative process that is pulling back to gather strength before the next surge forward. By embracing the quiet, you’re making space for what’s next.

Turn, Turn, Turn – A Time for Every Project Under Heaven | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 10 Sep 2025 20:22:25 GMT

Turn, Turn, Turn – A Time for Every Project Under Heaven

By Steven W. Alloway

I recently started reading Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series. I actually bought the first book, The Color of Magic , probably close to 20 years ago. But for some reason, I just could never get into it. I read the first couple of pages, and it didn’t really click. I tried several times over the years, but I could never get very far.

My friends are always shocked by this. “But Discworld is so good!” they’ll tell me. “And it seems right up your alley! How could you not like it?” I never said I didn’t like it. I said I couldn’t get into it. And recognizing the difference has been a key part of my creative journey.

Right Book, Wrong Time

One of the reasons I can recognize the difference is because this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me. In high school, I bought an old library copy of the book The Virginian . Considered not only a classic, but basically the origin of almost every major trope of the Western genre, I was eager to read it.

At first, I was enjoying it. Then, there came a chapter that just bogged me down. I couldn’t get into it, I wasn’t interested in what was happening, and to make matters worse, I could tell from the chapter titles that this was going to go on for another three chapters after this one. So I rolled my eyes and gave up.

It wasn’t until several years out of college that I picked it up and tried again. I reread the first few chapters, which I had enjoyed, then gritted my teeth to slog through that 4-chapter slump that had tripped me up the first time.

But you know what? That section ended up being probably my favorite part of the entire book. It was interesting, it was engaging, it was well-written, and moreover, it was really funny. Once I got through that section, I finished the rest fairly easily, and it turns out, the entire book is brilliant. It’s now one of my all-time favorites.

Sometimes I find myself thinking… What happened, back in high school? How did I start reading this book and yet completely miss how good it was? In high school, I thought the problem was with the book. When I finally finished it, I assumed the problem must be with me. But what I’ve come to realize is that it wasn’t really a problem with either of us. It just wasn’t that book’s time yet. In order to appreciate it, I had to wait until it WAS time.

And now the same is true of Discworld . For 20 years, it wasn’t the right time for that book. Now I can’t put it down, and I’m looking forward to exploring some of the many other books in the series as well.

Ironically, the reason I picked it up again was because I needed a change of pace from the previous book I had been reading, which turned out not to be what I expected. I’m sure that book’s time will come too—in a few months, a few years… Who knows how long it might take? But when the time does come, I know it will be waiting for me.

Sometimes, despite your best efforts, you’ll find that a book is Not For You. But other times, you’ll find that it is for you… It’s just not for right now. And I’ve found that the same thing is often true of creative endeavors. Last week, Becky talked about the seasons we have as creators. But our projects have their seasons too. “To everything turn, turn, turn,” says the song (and also the book of Ecclesiastes, but the Byrds made it catchy). “There is a season. Turn, turn, turn. And a time to every purpose under heaven.”

For anything we’re faced with, there’s a time to do it, and a time not to do it. So even if we’re in the spring of trying new things or the summer of creative intensity, the project we’re working on might not have reached its time yet.

Chasing La Mancha

One of my favorite filmmakers, Terry Gilliam, had a film he wanted to make called The Man Who Killed Don Quixote . For a decade or more, he made plans and preparations to put the film into production—running into a host of problems and obstacles along the way. Eventually, he was able to assemble a cast, secure funding, and go to Spain, finally, to shoot the film.

They only shot for a few days. During that time, production was plagued by sound issues, weather issues, scheduling issues, and eventually, some serious health issues for the actor playing Don Quixote. There’s a documentary about the experience called Lost in La Mancha , and it’s a fascinating glimpse into Gilliam’s creative process, as well as all the problems that can plague a film’s production, be they technical, administrative, or just acts of God. Terry tried to make it work, but ultimately, there was nothing to do but give up and go home.

But though he did indeed go home, Gilliam didn’t give up. He put the film aside, sure, and focused on other projects for a while. But Don Quixote was never completely forgotten. Another decade and a half went by before he was able to produce it, but eventually, in 2019, the film was finally released—along with a new documentary about the new, ultimately successful production. It took well over 20 years, but Don Quixote finally had its time.

When Is It Time?

I don’t know if I have a white whale quite as big as Terry Gilliam’s Don Quixote , but I definitely have more than a few projects I’ve tried to make that are still waiting for their time. I’ve talked about a few of them in previous articles.

There’s The Six Servants , which I wrote in 2019 with the intention of performing it in Kazakhstan, and which, six years later, I’m still trying to find the right company, the right venue, the right cast, and the right resources to do it justice. Then there’s The Pound-a-Line Poet , which I had hoped to mount last year, but the moment I finished writing the script, I just said, “That’s not happening yet.” Neither of those projects has reached its time yet. But I haven’t forgotten them or given them up.

So what AM I doing? Or, more to the point, what should I, or you, or anyone, do while waiting for a project’s time to come? How do you know when a project has reached its time? Or which project it’s currently time for?

A large part of it is patience. But at the same time, if all you’re doing is waiting for the right time, then you’re going to be disappointed. First of all, just waiting doesn’t actually bring you any closer to your goal. And second of all, it’s rarely going to feel like the right time when you get started. In fact, if you’re doing it right, even when it is the right time, starting a new project should make you at least a little nervous, if not a little terrified. So if you’re not careful, “It’s not the right time yet” can become an excuse for staying in your comfort zone.

Though on the other hand, patience is still important. There can be times when it SEEMS like you’re just waiting, doing nothing, but actually you’re making yourself and your project ready, in ways you’re not even aware of. On the surface, nothing on your project is getting done. But behind the scenes, you’re becoming the person you need to be, to do the thing you want to do.

So how do you tell the difference between waiting and growing? You kind of just have to feel it out. It’s not an exact science. There can be a bit of trial and error involved. There may be times when you put a project aside for a while, then come back to it, only to find that it’s still not the right time yet. So put it aside again. Live your life, create other things, make connections, learn, grow… And then come back again. And keep coming back, until it’s finally Time.

Or to put it another way: Turn, turn, turn. If you keep turning, keep doing, keep moving forward, then eventually the right time will come along. But if all you’re doing is standing still, waiting for the “right time” without actually doing anything, then it will never happen.

In the meantime, you need to keep checking in every now and then. Take stock of your life, your resources, your current path. Does this project make sense in your life now in a way that it didn’t previously? Have you grown and matured to a point where it seems more feasible than it once did? (Or, alternately, have you become more reckless and foolhardy than you once were, to the point where jumping off the cliff and seeing where you land seems like a viable option? This is, in fact, a form of growing and maturing as well, but that’s a topic for a whole other article.)

Recognizing Opportunities

You also need to keep your eyes open and your ear to the ground. The “right time” can present itself when you least expect it. I have a friend with whom I’ve been talking for years about collaborating on some sort of theater project. We happened to run into each other the other day and talked again about that “maybe someday” collaboration. Maybe something about time travel or space travel or robots—

Wait a minute. I actually have a stage script in mind about robots that I’ve been meaning to write for ages. It’s also always been a “maybe someday” type of project that it never feels like the right time. Maybe this is the opportunity I’ve been looking for. Maybe the right time has finally come for not one but two different creative endeavors that have been sitting on the back burner, waiting to be ready.

In the end, the only way to know for sure is to try it. Patience is important. Letting things steep until they’re ready is important. But it’s also important to take leaps of faith. If it’s not time yet, then it won’t happen, and you can always just go back to waiting and getting ready. But often, the only way to know if it IS time is to try it and see what happens. And if it is, in fact, the right time, then what happens could well be nothing short of magical.

Finding Your Creative Rhythm in Four Seasons | By Becky Murdoch

Wed, 03 Sep 2025 02:57:15 GMT

Finding Your Creative Rhythm in Four Seasons
By Becky Murdoch

So, our theme for September is Seasons of Creativity: Embracing the Ebb & Flow. The first thing that came to mind was the four seasons—something I hear many of you actually experience if you don’t live in Los Angeles.

It’s easy to believe we should always be producing something, always be “on.” But that’s not how life—or creativity—works. Just like nature, we need time for budding, blossoming, harvesting, and resting.

I’ve been learning this lesson through something I never thought I’d enjoy: caring for plants. I’m not naturally a plant person. In fact, I used to say, “I always kill them.” But what I thought was my failure was really just the plants going into their winter season. I assumed they were dead when all they were doing was resting.

It turns out all they needed from me was a little patience (and in some cases, less water). A few weeks of neglect—oops—and they came back to life. What looked like a lost cause was simply preparing for renewal. And now, some of those same plants are blooming more than ever.

Honestly, I’m not so different. No one would accuse me of overwatering myself (really, I hate drinking water); I tend to go until I hit exhaustion, collapse into rest, then push myself back up to start all over again. This past year has been a season of winter for me. I’ve still been working, but I cut back my hours drastically and spent more time at home—cooking, sleeping, and watching movies; moving slower than I felt comfortable with, most of the time. I felt antsy, ready to start things, but it wasn’t quite the right time.

Now, I sense myself easing into spring—slowly emerging, ready to stretch and grow again.

That’s the gift of seasons: each one has a purpose, and none of them lasts forever.

Here are four reminders from the changing seasons to help you embrace the natural rhythm of your creative life.

1. Spring → Time To Try Something New

I love the color green, and green never feels more alive than in the Spring—buds on trees, seeds in the ground, the world waking up after rest. In your creative life, spring is the time to experiment. To plant and start to cultivate. Pick up a new tool, draft without worrying about the outcome, or take a risk on an idea that’s been tugging at you.

Let’s look at these experiments as planting seeds. Some may bloom quickly, others may take time, and some may never sprout at all—and that’s okay. The point isn’t perfection; it’s exploration.

2. SUMMER → ENJOY THE SUN; DON'T BURN OUT IN THE HEAT

Oh, Summer—we love your long days, the smell of sunscreen, the warmth that lingers into night. It’s a season of growth and momentum. In creativity, this might look like a burst of productivity—projects taking off, inspiration flowing, and energy running high.

But just as summer heat can scorch the ground if we’re not careful, creative intensity can lead to burnout. Pace yourself. Make space for rest even when you’re in a groove. Remember: growth is most sustainable when it’s steady, not frantic.

3. Autumn → Celebrate and Share What You’ve Made

It’s time to head to the farm and pick some apples and have warm cider & donuts. (Someone is missing a Michigan autumn this year…) Autumn is the season of harvest. The fields are full, baskets overflow, and communities gather to enjoy the fruit of the year’s labor. In your creative rhythm, autumn is about celebrating what you’ve made—whether that means finishing a project, showing your work to others, or simply pausing to recognize how far you’ve come.

It’s easy to skip this step, rushing from one idea to the next. But celebration matters. Let’s say that again. Celebration matters! Naming and sharing your progress refuels your creative energy and gives you perspective for what comes next.

4. Winter → Rest Is Part of the Process

Winter often looks like stillness: a cozy blanket and a mug of cocoa, slower days, an evening walk in fresh fallen snow. But beneath the surface, the soil is replenishing itself, roots are deepening, and the earth is preparing for spring.

In your creative life, winter is the time to rest. That might mean reading, listening, watching, daydreaming, or simply giving yourself permission to do less. This isn’t wasted time—it’s restoration. What looks like quietness now is preparing you for the next burst of growth.

Embracing the Rhythm

Each season will teach us something if we let it. Creativity isn’t about forcing the season we wish we were in—it’s about honoring where we are.

So ask yourself: What season am I in right now? Are you planting, growing, harvesting, or resting? Whatever your answer, trust that this moment has value.

This month, we’ll be exploring how to embrace the ebb and flow—together.

Non Sense - September 2025 Playlist

Tue, 02 Sep 2025 19:42:53 GMT

Check out our September mixtape, Non Sense, to SPARK your creativity!

A playful mix of songs where gibberish, made-up words, and nonsense lyrics somehow make perfect sense.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

The “Right Way” vs. The Way That Works | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 27 Aug 2025 15:57:14 GMT

The “Right Way” vs. The Way That Works
By Steven W. Alloway

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a post on Facebook. It was actually a screenshot of another post from Twitter. The original post was a picture of 50 different books about personal betterment of all different types: relationships, communication, productivity, business, and of course, art and creativity. Along with a note to the effect of, “50 Books to Improve Your Life.”

The repost on Facebook added the note, “Do yourself a favor and don’t read any of these books.”

Now, of those 50 books, I myself had only read one, but I immediately jumped into the comments to defend it: “ The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron is actually really good and worth reading,” I said.

Then I looked at the other comments. Just about everyone else who chimed in was there to defend exactly one book as well. Everyone’s book was different. Somebody spoke up for The War of Art . Someone else recommended, How to Win Friends and Influence People . A couple of people chimed in to defend Crime and Punishment , which is actually a novel, rather than a self-help book, but according to the original post, it will teach you skills in human behavior.

A number of people even went so far as to say, “This one book is great. All the rest are garbage.” And none of those people recommended the same book.

So what’s the takeaway from this? Everybody is different. What works for someone else might not work for you, and vice versa. We’re talking about establishing creative practices this month. There’s a whole lot of advice out there on the subject: books, lectures, podcasts, and at least three more Spark articles than there were last month (four if you count this one). How do you find the creative practices that will best serve you? That’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself.

Approaches to Morning Pages

In my article a couple of weeks ago, I admitted that daily practices and routines are not my forte. So I loved reading Becky and Hans’s articles this month to see what they had to say on the subject and what I could learn from them. Both were great and incredibly helpful in different ways.

Becky in particular said something that caught my attention . With regards to Morning Pages, she talked about sometimes using her voice recorder instead of handwritten pages, noting that Julia Cameron probably would not approve.

In The Artist’s Way , Julia is indeed very strict about what Morning Pages should entail. Handwrite them, rather than type them on the computer. Do it first thing in the morning, before anything else. And don’t lift your pen from the paper until you’ve filled three full pages. So no, Julia Cameron would probably not approve of Becky’s methods.

But honestly? All due respect to Julia Cameron, but… Who cares what she thinks?

Well, obviously, a lot of people care what she thinks. And her methods have helped a lot of people. In fact , in Hans’s article , he talked about how he was initially skeptical of Morning Pages, but committed to following them to the letter. After a few weeks, it led him to the script for his incredible, highly lauded and awarded, Cannes-screened short film, A Question of Service . So I think it’s safe to say that the practice worked for him.

But it’s not for everybody. I’ve heard other people talk about typing their Morning Pages on a computer, or even— gasp —doing them in the evening! Certainly not Julia Cameron approved. But if deviating from the established structure provides benefit for someone or proves to be a more effective tool in their artistic toolbox… Why shouldn’t they do it that way?

Opposite Effects

For myself, I don’t care for Morning Pages at all. When I went through The Artist’s Way, I struggled with them every day. Everyone says they get easier as you go along, but they never did for me. I’ve tried them a couple of times since, and it’s always the same result: struggle and frustration. In fact, not long ago, I started wondering if maybe I had been doing them wrong. Maybe I misinterpreted the instructions or missed some key element. So I looked it up. I reread Julia Cameron’s thoughts on the subject and read other people’s musings as well. I looked at what you’re supposed to write, how you’re supposed to do it, and what the benefits are supposed to be.

As near as I can figure, I’m doing everything exactly as I’m supposed to. But it has the opposite effect on me. Doing a “brain dump” first thing in the morning is supposed to clear your mind of worries and distractions, so you can focus better throughout the day. That’s not what happens with me. Instead, writing about all of these things just brings them bubbling up to the surface and gives me a thousand new things to worry about as I start my day.

So instead, I’ve got other routines I go through first thing in the morning. I pick up my phone and do Wordle, Connections, and a couple of similar daily brain puzzle apps. This would also raise the ire of plenty of people trying to help you be your best self. I’ve read countless articles admonishing me not to touch my phone first thing when I wake up.

“Never, EVER do this!” they’ll scold. They say reaching for your phone means getting caught up in e-mails, texts, and Facebook notifications first thing in the morning, which will just add to the cacophony of the day and keep you from starting off with that clear mind that Morning Pages are supposed to bring.

But again, for me it’s just the opposite. I have no trouble brushing aside until later the notifications that have piled up while I’m asleep and instead using my phone to clear my head and wake up my brain, so I can start my day.

Healthy Snacks and Best Practices

Another thing I like to do on my phone is watch food videos. The Facebook algorithm recommends all sorts of them to me, from easy (and sometimes questionable) baking hacks to extravagant cake decorating to barbecue tips and more. As a cook and a baker, some of these videos do inspire me creatively, introducing me to new techniques and ingredients, or helping me to think about different foods and dishes in new ways. But that’s not why I bring these videos up.

One type of video that frequently ends up in my feed is healthy snacks. These are the videos that try to convince you that adding a scoop of protein powder and some maple syrup to Greek yogurt will taste just like cheesecake. I once saw a video where someone added cocoa powder to cottage cheese and called it, “the best chocolate pudding you’ll ever eat.”

I actually love Greek yogurt. Add a little honey and some fresh berries, and you’ve got a delicious and healthy breakfast. But in no way, shape, or form does it taste like cheesecake. And cottage cheese will never taste like chocolate pudding, no matter what you add to it.

Every once in awhile, though, you’ll come across a healthy snack video that has a bit more self-awareness. It was in one of these that I heard a piece of advice that has stuck with me ever since: “The best diet is the one you can stick to.” It may be healthy to eat snacks made of yogurt, protein powder, and cottage cheese. But if that’s what you’re eating, and you don’t find them satisfying, then eventually you’ll crash and burn.

On the other hand, if you take the time to find healthy snacks that you do enjoy and find satisfying, you’ll go a lot farther, even if they have a few more calories and a little less protein than Greek yogurt. And if allowing yourself the occasional small slice of actual cheesecake, or a bowl of chocolate pudding, or whatever else you like, gives you the fortitude to keep up with your diet in the long run, then you’ll ultimately lose more weight than if you eat cottage cheese and cocoa powder for a few days and then fall off the wagon.

It’s the same with creative practices. Everyone loves to tell you what you should be doing on your creative journey. I frequently hear things like, “You’re not a writer unless you write every day,” or “If you’re not using this technique in exactly this way to achieve this result, then you’re doing it wrong.”

But in the end, the best creative practices are the ones you can stick to. The best thing you can do today is the thing that will help you continue on tomorrow and the next day. If that’s three handwritten Morning Pages first thing every day, then more power to you. But if it’s a computer screen or a voice recorder, and if you do it in the afternoon or evening instead of in the morning… As long as you’re getting a benefit out of it, and as long as it’s serving you on your creative journey, that’s what counts.

All of these things that people say are hard and fast, unbreakable rules… When it comes down to it, they’re just guidelines. Your creative journey is yours and yours alone to take. So you’re the only one who gets to decide what tools you use or how you’ll use them. As long as they get you to your destination, that’s all that matters.

Then once you get there, have a slice of cheesecake, or some chocolate pudding. You’ve earned it.

DITCHING PERFECTIONISM | BY HANS OBMA

Tue, 19 Aug 2025 22:12:33 GMT

Ditching Perfectionism

By Hans Obma

How do you think creativity happens? Does creativity sometimes knock on your door, and you paint or write what arrives? Does taking in someone else’s work inspire you to go create your own version? Or do you have some sort of approach?

“How do you create?” is one of my favorite questions to ask someone. It’s right up there with “how did you become the actor/writer/artist that you are?” When asked in the right context, it really honors a person and earns the listener some gems to take home.

My own approach to creativity comes mostly from three perspectives: career coach Dallas Travers; Stephen Pressfield’s THE WAR OF ART , and Julia Cameron’s THE ARTIST'S WAY .

A month rarely goes by that I do not recall Dallas saying, “Do less, more often.” This advice usually applied to reach-outs to professional contacts. She found people tended to plan one big campaign, expend heaps of resources and energy, then wait for the phone to ring. Dallas said people’s ships came in more frequently if they developed a practice of sending out manageable ships regularly.

It was also Dallas who recommended THE WAR OF ART .* The book is absolutely worth a read, not least because spending time with its ideas helps the reader OWN its premise. In short, Stephen Pressfield says those who create regularly…create. Those who wait until a great idea comes are, first of all, unlikely to do anything with it once it arrives. They are, second of all, less likely to receive the great idea in the first place. It’s quite like how possessing a tall metal rod makes a lightning strike much more likely.

The image of a lightning rod brings us to Julia Cameron. Let’s say a person already works each day on their creative pursuit, but something isn’t adding up. Creating doesn’t feel right, or the idea doesn’t come. The Artist’s Way is the best creative lightning rod I know.

Several years ago, I received some of the best creative advice of my life. I had booked a string of cool acting jobs and reached out to several more established friends to seek their advice. An acquaintance we’ll call Ying said, “You need to write something that could do for you what SHERLOCK did for Benedict Cumberbatch.”

If you have not seen SHERLOCK , go watch it now. It’ll help you understand how exciting Ying’s comment was for me. Before SHERLOCK , most Americans could maybe recognize Benedict as someone they had seen before. After Sherlock, we all knew who he was and wanted to see more.

The trouble was I didn’t know what to write. I set to writing each day, as THE WAR OF ART had taught me, but an idea wouldn’t come. And it didn’t come, until…

A year later, I read THE ARTIST'S WAY in an online book club with Epiphany Space. The Artist’s Way is a 12-week creative course designed to connect each person with their creative voice.

I had heard about Julia’s book for years, but didn’t think it was for me. On the one hand, the concept of weekly “artist’s dates” appealed–each week, the reader goes out to spend unproductive hours doing something that delights their inner child. But on the other hand, daily “morning pages” sounded like a real waste of time. Three pages of daily freehand writing sounded tiring and stupid. How wrong I was.

To my credit, I decided if I was going to do this, I’d be all-in. I committed to three morning pages every day without exception. Week four, my idea came. Julia (in the form of group leader Melissa Smith) had been asking things like “what REALLY turns you on creatively? What is something you’ve always wanted to do but never tried? What if the voices that said you couldn’t do a certain thing were wrong?” For me, these questions added up to “if you could make one TV show to send out into the world, what would it be? Where would it take place? And how could it rely on your true strengths 100% of the time?”

And that’s when I wrote the first draft of A QUESTION OF SERVICE . I suppose I ought to include the caveat that if you read THE ARTIST'S WAY, you may end up riding a wave for some time. Coming up with the idea that turned me on meant many drafts of a script. It meant financial investment and forming a team to shoot a proof of concept film that went to some big old film festivals. It also meant creative growth, international exposure, learning the Welsh language (yes, really), and current meetings in pursuit of series production.

Living out these books, and the Artist’s Way in particular, does not guarantee a specific creative outcome. However, it really does guarantee you will create.

Julia’s premise, which I have taken hook, line, and sinker, is that every person can be creative. And if you commit to doing so for an hour, for 90 minutes, for 3 hours every day, your choice and diligence will make a fantastic result far more likely.

NOTE: The more famous THE ART OF WAR is quite a different book!

Two Roads Diverged – Finding Your Path to a Creative Routine | By Steven W. Alloway

Wed, 13 Aug 2025 02:35:36 GMT

Two Roads Diverged – Finding Your Path to a Creative Routine

By Steven W. Alloway

When Becky told me that the theme for this month’s Spark articles was “Creative Routines and Daily Practices,” I must admit, I panicked a little. I’m not great with routines. I start off with high hopes and lofty ambitions, but they typically fizzle out quickly.

I’m not Stephen King, who, for his first couple of novels, woke up at the crack of dawn every morning to get a few pages in before heading to his day job teaching high school English. I’m not Brandon Sanderson, who spends somewhere between 7 and 10 hours in front of his computer every day, churning out novels like a social media influencer churns out TikTok videos. I’m more like Douglas Adams, who wrote paragraphs in between long lunches and cups of tea, and for whom the best part of deadlines was the whooshing noise they made as they went by.

( Fun Fact: Douglas Adams actually wrote several of the scripts for the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy radio series, literally as the episodes were being recorded, sending scenes from his office to the recording studio down the hall as he finished them. Jonathan Pryce, recruited to be a guest in the final episode, ended up having to take a much smaller role than he’d originally been hired for, because by the time he needed to leave for the day, the role he’d been hired for wasn’t written yet. This is one of the writers I have idolized since childhood, which tells you everything you need to know about my own creative process.)

With that in mind, what wisdom could I possibly have to impart on the subject of daily creative practices? Well, I might not be as rigorous as some, but I have developed a few of my own routines over the years, which are more in line with a creative style such as the one I’ve just described.

If you’re the type of person who wakes up and immediately goes for your notebook to write Morning Pages, then this article is not for you. However, if you struggle with adhering to a routine or having regular productivity, then I might be able to help.

Let’s say you decide to establish a creative routine. For our purposes, we’ll say that you’re writing, since that’s where my experiences lie, but you could just as easily substitute drawing, playing an instrument, or whatever else it is you do. But whatever you’re doing, you’re looking to increase your productivity and complete some cool, creative projects. You’re very excited about it.

So how do you go about it? Imagine that, much like Robert Frost, you come to two roads, diverged in a yellow wood. Each road is a possible path towards your goal. Let’s look at both of them and see where they may lead.

The First Road

You set a writing goal of 1,500 words a day. It seems reasonable. NaNoWriMo has a daily word count goal of 1,667, and that’s designed to be balanced with a fulltime job and other life obligations. Plus, you’ve written 1,500 words, and even more, plenty of times before. As long as you apply yourself, it should be no problem. Just think how productive you’re about to be! Here’s how your first week goes:

Monday: Sometime after lunch, you sit down at your computer and start writing. The words are flowing like water. You’ve got a great idea that you’re really excited about, and it’s coming together better than you could have hoped! After about three hours, you hit the 1,500-word mark. Then you add another paragraph, just for good measure. This is going to be a breeze!

Tuesday: You initially set out to start writing after lunch again, but you get caught up in errands and other responsibilities. You don’t get a chance to sit down at your computer until about 8 PM. But hey, you’re writing, and that’s the important thing. You’re a little tired and a little stressed after a long day, so the words don’t flow quite so freely as they did yesterday. But somewhere around midnight, you manage to reach 1,500 words. Job well done!

Wednesday: Today’s even more hectic than yesterday. Your day job takes up most of your time and nearly all of your energy. Then once that’s done, something else comes up that demands your attention, and then something else again. You finally sit down to write at about 10 PM. You have no idea what to say. Your story has ground to a halt. It’s late, and you’re exhausted, but you’re determined to meet your goal. You start adding whatever you can think of to your story, going off on tangents and padding with long, meandering conversations. Phrases like “He gasped” become “He let out an audible gasp of shock and consternation.” You’re not actually sure if “consternation” makes sense in this context, but you’ll look it up tomorrow. Somewhere around 2 AM, you finally reach 1,500 words. You’ll probably end up deleting most of them. But at least you’ve reached your goal. Tomorrow, you’ll start earlier.

Thursday: As soon as you wake up, you think, “I’m going to go straight to my computer and start writing! Get my word count in early, so I’m not scrambling to finish like yesterday.” And then… You don’t. Writing until 2 AM after a full, stressful day really took its toll on you, and you’re not quite ready to jump in again just yet. Especially since you’re pretty sure what you wrote last night is a jumbled mess, and you’re not sure where to go from there. All day long, you look at your computer, but can’t quite bring yourself to sit down. Around 11 PM, you’re tired, you’re ready for bed, but you still haven’t done any writing. You sit down at the computer, pump out a paragraph or two, then give up. If you can get a good night’s sleep tonight, maybe you can write double tomorrow.

Friday: It’s another chaotic day. You don’t have time to even think about working on your project until about 9 PM. When you do finally think about it, you remember that you’re a day behind, and you don’t relish being up until 3 AM catching up. You watch a movie instead and go to bed.

Saturday: It’s the weekend! You finally have some extra time! Maybe now you can finally get some writing done! Only now you’re nearly 4,500 words behind. Those missed days and unreached targets hang like a millstone around your neck, dragging you down. You berate yourself for not sticking to your goal, but at the same time, you can’t seem to motivate yourself even to open the document, much less write anything, because you’re daunted by how much you have to do to catch up. So you don’t write anything.

Sunday: You don’t even try. For a few days afterward, you think about starting up again, but you’re too discouraged to do it. You end up abandoning the daily writing goal entirely, and your project sits unfinished on your hard drive. You don’t even want to look at it, because it’s a reminder of your failure.

The Second Road

You set the goal of writing every day. No specific word or page count. No set timeframe. But every day, you are going to sit down at your computer and work on your project.

Monday: You’re excited for this project! You carve out some time after lunch and write about 1,600 words. You feel proud of yourself.

Tuesday: It’s a busy day, but you manage to grab some writing time after dinner. You don’t have quite as much momentum today, but you knock out about 1,000 words. Not bad!

Wednesday: Complete chaos. You’ve got a thousand other things going on. But just before bed, you sit down at your computer. You’re pretty drained, but you manage to knock out three or four short paragraphs. You think about doing more, but you don’t really have any more to say today. Rather than force yourself to write filler just to satisfy some arbitrary idea of productivity, you stop, happy with the short but meaningful bit you’ve written.

Thursday: Today is a bit calmer than yesterday. You wake up and think about what you were writing yesterday. You had some pretty good ideas before you went to bed. You head to your computer and start writing. You manage to write about 2,000 words in the morning, then spend the afternoon doing work, errands, and such.

Friday: The whole day is a nightmare. You have multiple emergencies to deal with, both personal and professional. You’re not even thinking about writing. But then about 11pm, you remember that you still haven’t written anything. You sit down at your computer. It’s taking forever to load. You’re tired, and you’re frustrated. Your initial goal was “sit down at your computer and work on your project.” But it doesn’t look like that’s happening tonight. So you decide to change the rules, just a little. You pick up a pen and notebook instead and jot down a few lines of dialogue. Honestly, not more than a couple of sentences. Maybe they’ll fit in with your current project; maybe they won’t. But you’re still writing. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t count. You go to bed satisfied in the knowledge that you’ve achieved your goal for the day.

Saturday: Your computer is running faster today, so you type up the dialogue snippet you wrote last night. You end up expanding it into a short sketch. It’s not part of the project you’re working on. It’s not part of anything. You’re not even sure what you’re going to do with it. But it’s pretty good, and you’re proud of it. You’ll find a place for it somewhere. Later that day, you write a few more paragraphs on your main project, too. With the sketch you wrote, you’ve already technically achieved your daily goal, but you have the time and the energy, and you have some ideas for a new scene, so you start writing it. As you’re going to bed, you think about all you’ve accomplished today, and you feel proud and productive.

Sunday: You spend most of the day thinking about other things, but round about 9 PM, the scene you were writing yesterday suddenly takes hold of your imagination. You end up writing until about 3 AM—not because you feel like you have to, but because the words just keep flowing. You’re exhausted, but you’re also energized. You’ve really got something here, and you’re excited to keep working on it. Tomorrow’s a new day of writing. You can’t wait.

Count Me In - August 2025 Playlist

Wed, 06 Aug 2025 16:49:36 GMT

Check out our August mixtape, Count Me In, to SPARK your creativity!

Songs that start with a count. It’s as easy as 1,2,3,4.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Get Your Creativity Flowing: 5 Creative Routines & Daily Practices | By Becky Murdoch

Wed, 06 Aug 2025 16:29:42 GMT

Get Your Creativity Flowing: 5 Creative Routines & Daily Practices

By Becky Murdoch

1. Morning Pages: Brain Dump to Breakthrough

2. The Daily Photo Hunt

3. Mindful Walking Without Distractions

4. Idea Capture Ritual

5. Evening Creative Reflection

Remember, the key to successful creative routines is consistency over perfection. Start with one or two practices that genuinely appeal to you, and build from there.

Blank Pages & Bad Paintings: Finding Freedom & Legacy in Creative Play | By Beth Dzhiganyan

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 29 Jul 2025 13:03:07 GMT

Blank Pages & Bad Paintings: Finding Freedom & Legacy in Creative Play

By Beth Dzhiganyan

I have always loved this quote from Pablo Picasso, “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” At my most creative, I feel deeply connected to my inner child. Whether or not I am creating is actually a weirdly accurate gauge of my overall mental health. When the weight of the world feels heavy and dark, nothing gets made. Turns out, I am really bad at being a tortured artist. As a writer, I’ve found that it isn’t only the traumatic moments of life that freeze me up; the aftermath can leave me with a bout of resistance and writer’s block that are hard to come back from.

When I think about my childhood, I wonder how far back this goes. My parents are very creative people—at least for people who do not consider themselves creative. I think it’s because they are both teachers. Having two teachers for parents meant growing up surrounded by books and ideas. From my earliest memories, my brother and I would snuggle into bed and listen to our parents read The Chronicles of Narnia , Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH , Watership Down . They would read to us until their words became muddled and fuzzy with sleep. I would then jab them in the ribs with my elbow to wake them up so they would keep reading. I was a delightful child. It is perhaps no surprise that I began to think of myself as a writer before I even knew how to form letters on a page. Creativity felt inherent to me; it was how I saw myself, and what I loved most about myself. I think this is why when I experience bouts of creative block in my life, it feels like a disconnect from the core of who I am.

With adulthood, my life has become much more complicated, as it is wont to do. I have experienced seasons of creativity and joy, but waves of writer’s block and depression have pooled throughout, stunting me for months and years at a time. The worst writer’s block I have ever faced hit me in about 2016, after the birth of my second child, and it lasted several years.

I had imagined parenthood through a romantic filter-- playing classical music to trilingual toddlers with rosy, chubby cheeks who took long naps and spent their afternoons painting on easels in little mini berets, all while I wrote novels in my abundant free time. Well, my babies did have chubby cheeks, so I guess I was right about one thing.

Instead, I found myself in my early 30s, working from home full-time, surrounded by tiny havoc machines who never slept, had terrible taste in music, and every single thing they touched undoubtedly was spilled, splattered, and splashed across everything else. Absolute chaos ensued. I loved my family but felt like I was treading water all day, every day.

I thought about writing sometimes. A lot, actually. But I didn’t have the bandwidth for imagination and worried I’d never have an intelligent thought again. I was so exhausted. I loved much of motherhood, but I resented the cultural expectation that I should now find my identity in it. But I wasn’t writing. So, I wasn’t a writer. I didn’t know who I was, and I didn’t have the energy to imagine who I wanted to be.

Creative block is such a particular type of madness. I would get up extremely early in the morning before the kids woke, hoping to carve out some quiet space for myself. I’d open a notebook and stare at the blank page. Even if I tried to write a stream of consciousness, I never could get beyond, I am just so tired and I don’t know what to say. Then I would continue to stare blankly until a baby would start to cry, and the day would begin. There were hundreds of these days.

We aren’t all parents, but we do all face similar life-altering shifts in our expectations that feel stunting. Seasons when grief, heartbreak, and anxiety leave us staring blankly at a wall, or scrolling on our phones, too paralyzed to function. I don’t remember where I first found out about #The100DayProject, but undoubtedly it was on a day like that-- doom scrolling on my phone as one does, nursing a baby or trying to get back to sleep after nursing a baby. Just another hashtag, another project for people who seem to have it all together. People unlike me. Something about it stuck with me though. The project is so simple: “Choose a creative project, do it every single day for 100 days. Document it.”

On that particular day, the following thoughts hit me in quick succession: I used to be good at writing, but now I can’t write anything good. I am a writer, but I cannot write anything at all. But… I am a bad painter. I can absolutely paint badly. Any day of the week, I can successfully be a bad painter.

I have always loved the visual arts-- painting, drawing, mixed media, all of it. I’ve experimented with it from time to time, occasionally even exhibiting pieces. The thing is, I’m not very good at it. I’ve always been vaguely bitter about this, to be honest. But in that moment, the idea struck me as pure relief. Perfectionism is crippling. But to make something and not have any expectation that it be anything but made ? To not expect to be good at creativity but to let creativity be the medicine itself? This sounded like freedom.

I sat my children down-- Aria was three then, and Lilah was about a year and a half. I laid it out like a business proposition to tiny incompetent colleagues. For 100 days, we would be making art together. Every. Single. Day. It would be play, but it would also be a discipline.

Watercolor, acrylic, crayons, and pastels. Markers and stamps and stickers. Some days, we painted with food coloring and shaving cream. One day we painted with watercolors on baby wipes (unused baby wipes, it needs to be said). Finger paints. Collage. We found objects on nature walks and dipped them in paint to stamp and brush with, creating different textures. We pressed flowers. We played with markers and Chalk. We made so many messes that left me too tired to clean up. We had a lot of fun playing, even on those days when the messes added stress. More importantly, it was healing.

I mounted our art into notebooks and put them into frames. Not just the children’s but mine too. They didn’t symbolize good art; they symbolized the freedom to play. The freedom to be bad at things and enjoy them anyway. I think it’s the perfectionism that kills our inner child artists. As children, it’s the process that delights us. We know this, but it is still so hard to break through when we are suffering from blocks and resistance. Now, one of my recommendations to myself and to others is to get out of my medium. Go have fun being bad at something for a while. Go fail spectacularly. It can be so much fun.

It took time, but I did start writing again, though I certainly wasn’t immediately good at it. I was so rusty it hurt. I started writing with prompts and a timer, then gradually moved on to short stories. I gave myself the freedom to create “shitty first drafts.” Eventually, I published one of those rusty short stories, completed a novel, and began working on my second. I enrolled in an MFA program to continue working off that rust. I still get writer’s block and I still can be very hard on myself when it comes to my writing, just as I get depressed and anxious at times. Now, along with therapy and meds, I keep my home stocked with art supplies as another aspect of my self-care. I still have a lot of bad paintings to do.

The Sky’s the Limit (Beyond That, You’re on Your Own) By Steven W. Alloway

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 22 Jul 2025 17:12:31 GMT

The Sky’s the Limit (Beyond That, You’re on Your Own)

By Steven W. Alloway

If you could do anything, what would you do? Any creative project at all. No limits on time, budget, people, resources, or anything else. What would you do? What would you create? I want you to picture it in as much detail as possible. What would this project look like? What would it involve? Who would it involve? In a world without limits, what form does your ideal project take?

Have you got it in your head? Great. Now, go do that.

What’s that? You DON’T have unlimited resources? There ARE limits on time, budget, and everything else? Your dream project is way too big and impossible for you to execute it, on a practical level? Well, OK. In that case… Go do it anyway.

Oh, you want to know HOW? Fine. Let’s figure it out.

The Impossible Dream

For me, dreaming up impossible projects is kind of a hobby. I have a long list of things I’d do with unlimited resources, which includes hosting a masquerade ball/charity gala across the stations of the Metro Red Line (L.A.’s subway system), building a time travel-themed amusement park, and mounting a Shakespeare play on the International Space Station.

All of those things are way beyond not only my current resources, but my current talents and abilities, even WITH unlimited resources. So how do I accomplish them? Well, what can I do with the resources that I do have? What IS within the realm of my talents and abilities?

It helps to start with the Whys. What is it about each of these projects that calls to me? What do I want to accomplish with them? For the time travel park, I’d love to create a fully immersive world where people can experience firsthand the cool aspects of different eras, from food to transportation to entertainment—what it was like in the past and what it could be like in the future.

I can’t afford to build a theme park. But what if I took some of the eras I want to explore and built an event around them? Some sort of immersive show, where the audience can interact with people from history, eat food from history, see important moments unfold. An immersive show is something I can do. (In fact, I have a show along those lines planned for next year, and I’m super excited about it.)

The masquerade ball stems from my fascination with the stations of the Metro Red Line, how each one has its own aesthetic and its own personality—and wanting to create something that connects them all in some sort of surreal and fantastical way.

I have no idea if whoever runs the L.A. Metro system could even be persuaded to allow an official function in their subway stations, even if I could afford to mount it. But I do have friends who are generally up for an adventure, who might be willing to explore the different Red Line stops with me and even plan some activities there.

For the play on the space station… I think it would be awesome to have a show mounted in zero gravity. Complete with extravagant musical numbers, if possible. So instead of launching into space, I could just… Umm… OK, that one’s a little more challenging. I guess the sky’s the limit, after all.

Building Up

In general, though, the point stands: get to the heart of what you want to do and why, and figure out what you can do right now that feeds into that.

Does that mean I’m telling you to scale back your goals and think smaller? I really hope you know me better than that by now. If I ever tell you to give up on your goal and replace it with a scaled-down version, that’s your clue that I’ve been replaced by an evil doppelganger. No, what I’m saying is, you should approach your impossible goals the same way you should approach any other project or task, creative or otherwise: one step at a time.

Anything seems impossible when you view it as one giant task. So you break it down into smaller and smaller pieces. And while many of those pieces may still be out of your reach, at least a few of them probably aren’t.

Start with what you can do now, with the resources you have. Create something that’s along the lines of what you want to do. Call it a test run or a proof of concept, or just a fun experiment. As you create it, you push your boundaries further. You acquire more resources, you gain more talent and experience, you connect with more people who can understand your vision.

By the time it’s finished, you’re closer to your big, impossible goal than you were before. If your dream project is a really, really extravagant one, then you might not actually feel closer. You didn’t build a theme park; you produced a show. But again, that’s only the first step. There’s still a long, long journey ahead of you.

So what’s the next step after that? What can you do with your new resources and experiences that will put you closer to your dream than you were before? Figure that out and do that. Then repeat. And keep repeating. Every step brings you something you didn’t have, every step teaches you something you didn’t know, and every step makes that big, impossible dream seem just that tiny bit less impossible.

Doors and Walls

We’ve talked about working towards a specific dream or a singular goal, but let’s look at things a different way. Imagine that, starting tomorrow, every door starts to open for you. Every opportunity comes your way, every person or community you want to work with is eager for the chance, and everything you do, you succeed at. What would your life look like five years from now? After five years of nothing but yeses and successes, what does your average day look like, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to bed? How do you spend your time? What do you work on, and whom do you work with?

Have you got it? Great. It’s not going to turn out like that.

“But I thought we were talking about achieving the impossible and creating without limits!” Yes, but that doesn’t mean there won’t also be failure. In fact, there SHOULD be failure. There has to be, to get you to your goal. Can you imagine a world where, for five years, you didn’t have a single failure, and nobody ever told you no? You’d never learn or grow. And you’d be insufferable.

It’s a fun exercise for figuring out where you want to be in life. But the actual path to get there isn’t through a bunch of open doors. Some of them will open for you, sure. Others you’ll have to bang on until you’re knuckles bleed. Some of them, you’ll have to break down. You may even have to squeeze through a window or two.

Sometimes there’s no door OR window. Just a brick wall, too strong to break down, too high to scale, right in the middle of your path. The only way forward is to find a different path that will take you a completely different direction. But if you stay on that path and navigate it well, you might just find that, somewhere down the line, it intersects with the path you were on to begin with and will ultimately take you to the same destination—just by a more circuitous route.

We don’t always recognize that at the time, though. It’s easy to think that going off on another path is tantamount to giving up, to accepting limits. But in fact, what’s really limiting us is staying on the current path, banging our heads against the brick wall we can’t get past. Taking another path might not feel like moving forward. But it’s still moving, which is better than standing still.

When to Hold ‘Em and When to Fold ‘Em

I recently started writing a script wherein the lead role would be perfect for Keanu Reeves. An impossible dream, to be sure, but there’s certainly a path to it. So I’m writing the script with Keanu in mind. And someday, when the script is finished and ready to go into production, I’d love to look into what it would take to get him on board.

But what if I decided I would ONLY accept Keanu Reeves in the lead role? I’m so committed to producing this project exactly the way I envision it that I won’t even consider any other actors. What then?

Even if I am somehow able to pitch him the script, there are a thousand other things that could prevent his being cast. He could hate it. He could love it but be too busy with other projects to get involved. He could ask for too much money. He could just say no. What happens to my project? Well, I’d be stuck at the brick wall, banging my head against it, and my script would never come to fruition.

It’s important to remember that yes, you can achieve your dream… But the finished product will never look exactly the way you envision it today. Nor should it. Especially when you’re working on something long term, plans grow, change, and evolve over time, as you gain more experience and new perspectives. And as you roll with the punches when things don’t go according to plan. If you can’t do that, then you’re not creating without limits. You’re letting your narrow focus on your vision be the thing that limits you.

So how do you know whether you’re at a door you can break down or a wall you’re banging your head against? How do you know when to commit to the vision and when to pivot to a new path? It helps to go back to the Why.

Why are you creating this thing? Why are you working on this project? What do you hope to achieve? And this thing that you can’t seem to do… How important is that to the Why? If you give up on this one thing and take a different path, will it still be the project that you want to create? Or will it turn into something else—something you don’t have the passion for?

With that in mind, let’s look at my Keanu Reeves script again. The reason I envision Keanu is because he represents a very specific character archetype, which would be helpful in telling the story. But, as iconic as he would be, he’s far from the only person who could play that role. And my goal in writing this script isn’t to cast a specific actor. It’s to tell a particular story. And that story can be told in any number of ways, by any number of different people.

So what if, instead of Keanu Reeves, my film starred, say, Hans Obma? The film would have a different vibe, to be sure. I’d be sacrificing my “impossible dream” of casting Keanu. But for those of us who know Hans, you know that in no way could he be considered a step down. I have no doubt he could nail the role. He’d bring something different to it than Keanu would, but those differences ultimately would serve the story, not hinder it.

In fact, in writing about this, I chose Hans’s name almost at random, as a member of the Epiphany community whose name and talents most of us would be familiar with. But now that I’m picturing him in the role… It really would be an amazing film, and he’d kind of be perfect for it.

I Think I Can, I Think I Can

There’s a saying I’ve heard, with regards to working toward your goals: Whether you believe you can do it, or you believe you can’t… You’re right. In other words, if you have confidence in your abilities, then you’ll succeed. But if you go in believing you’re going to fail, then you’re setting yourself up for failure.

Is the saying true? It depends on how you look at it. If you’re thinking about it in the short term, then no. If you become more confident, it may help you be more successful, but it doesn’t mean you won’t still fail sometimes. Every day, thousands of people walk into auditions or job interviews, confident that they’re going to land the role or be offered the position—only to be disappointed. In any Olympic event, there are dozens of athletes who believe they can win the gold medal—but only one actually can. As I’ve said, failure is inevitable sometimes. And it’s part of the journey.

But if you’re thinking of things in the long term, then yes, I do believe the saying is true. Succeeding isn’t about not failing. It’s about not letting failure stop you. It’s about understanding that failure is just another step toward achieving your impossible dream. But if you don’t believe you can do it, then you’ll never get to that next step.

There was a segment on SNL’s Weekend Update a few years ago, wherein Leslie Jones illustrated this point perfectly. If you’re able, I recommend watching it (the video’s only 30 seconds long), but if not, here’s a rundown:

“You know what happened to Oprah at 23?” she asks the audience. “She got fired. Imagine firing Oprah.”

“Yeah, well, that was a mistake,” interjects Colin Jost.

“No, it wasn’t,” Leslie counters. “Because she wasn’t Oprah. She was just some 23-year-old punk who needed to get fired, so she could BECOME Oprah. Sometimes you gotta fail to succeed.”

With that mindset, I believe it’s true that whether you believe you can or you believe you can’t, you’re right. Believing you can do something doesn’t mean you won’t lose the medal, fail to book the audition, or even get fired. It just means you have a choice. You can let those setbacks discourage you and keep you from pressing on. Or you can pick yourself up, learn from what happened, and try again. And again. And again. Until eventually, you achieve your impossible dream.

So yeah, if you believe you can do it—and you’re willing to put in the work, one slow, painstaking step at a time—then there’s nothing you can’t create, with the possible exception of Shakespeare in space. And even then, performing and creating art in zero gravity is still not outside the realm of possibility . It is on an airplane, though, not a space station, so technically, the sky is still the limit. But it’s a long way between here and the sky, and within that space, there’s more that can be done than we could ever dare to dream.

Creative Flow Through Play, by Melissa Gibson Smith

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 16 Jul 2025 03:57:23 GMT

Creative Flow Through Play

by Melissa Gibson Smith

What is your relationship with Play?

Are you BFF’s?

Does play and adventure emerge in who you are and everything you do? Perhaps play an annoying companion you avoid because there are too many other important things to spend time with? Maybe you are somewhere in the middle.

Regardless of what your relationship with play looks like at the moment, play plays an important role in creating, dreaming, and learning —all key elements for artists and entrepreneurs.

With play comes a sense of delight and wonder, a restoration of well-being, hope, and possibilities.

Play can seem frivolous to onlookers; it’s not. Play is a life hack.

As artists and creative entrepreneurs, we are constantly developing and executing new skills, adapting to new technology, and new climates to our creative flow. These skills could be learning new software, adjusting to the process changes on social media, learning a new creative technique, or even learning how to file taxes.

When we develop new skills, new mental pathways have to be formed. Depending on the skill, hand-eye coordination needs to be developed, along with memory, and muscle memory.

What we expect of ourselves in these moments of skills learning impacts our ability to learn. When we are excited to grow our knowledge base we learn more quickly. If we become resentful or overwhelmed, we restrict our capacity to contain the new knowledge.

According to research by Dr. Karyn Purvis, scientists have discovered that it takes approximately 400 repetitions to create a new synapse in the brain unless it is done in play, in which case it only takes 10 to 20 repetitions.

When computer technology shifted in the mid 90’s Microsoft created Solitaire to teach new computer users to drag and drop cards into the right location using a mouse, so they could then use that skill to move files into folders. Minesweeper was designed to help computer users use mouse clicks.

Learning through play provides benefits to both children and adults. The rise of game-based learning to gain educational and professional skills has contributed to rapid growth in the gaming industry.

Besides the joy of getting lost in a game or fun adventure, how do we leverage play to benefit our creative work?

For me, there are two answers. The first is something I’ve borrowed from Julia Cameron. In her book The Artist Way, Cameron talks about the importance of artists filling our creative wells by taking ourselves on artist dates. This means engaging in activities that fill us up with life and beauty. These activities may or may not directly connect with our specific areas of creativity, but they deposit internal fuel that we can use to cultivate our creative flow.

One big way I play and fill my creative well is in my vegetable garden. I love heirloom produce. The flavors of vegetables and fruit fresh from the garden outshine store-bought any day. I enjoy the benefits of the sun, the fresh air, and my hands in the soil. I find companionship in the myriad of bees, toads, anoles, skinks, and spiny lizards, all of whom help tend to my garden, too. It’s a much slower pace in the garden. Things take time. Because of the time, a sense of value and respect for the harvest is cultivated.

Although I don’t share my garden time with many humans, I am able to joyfully share it’s bounty. I learn many lessons about life and creativity in the garden. My soul is also filled and soothed in this space.

The second way I leverage play is in joyful collaboration with others. When I surround myself with other creators who have mastered the skills I need, and they are willing to impart and encourage my growth and development, I receive the benefit of quality times with friends, moving my projects forward, mastering new skills, and having fun in the process. These collaborations enable each of us to work hard and play hard.

If we are not careful, our artist life can be isolating. However, when surrounded by other talented and kind-hearted creatives, we can experience joy and increase our creative output.

All in all, play can be a beneficial companion to our creativity. Play provides a life hack for learning, fuels our creativity, and brings joy through shared experiences with friends and quiet artist dates.

How are you inviting play into your life and creativity?

Your Foolproof Guide to Overcoming Creative Blocks (Guaranteed or Your Money Back) | By Steven W. Alloway | Part 2

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 08 Jul 2025 22:56:10 GMT

Your Foolproof Guide to Overcoming Creative Blocks (Guaranteed or Your Money Back) (Part 2)

By Steven W. Alloway

4. Something About Artist Dates

I’ve brought up artist dates multiple times in previous articles. But let’s talk about why they’re important. You can’t create in a vacuum. Creating things comes from learning things, doing things, and experiencing things.

However, when I’m working on a big, important project, particularly if there’s a deadline, the tendency is to sit in my office at my computer all day, until it’s done. I don’t have time for side quests or frivolous excursions. I’ve got work that needs to get done! But of course, that mentality is one of the fastest paths there is to a creative block.

Personally, I find scheduling artist dates to be difficult. I know that they can encompass almost anything, but I always feel like it should be something fancy and cool: an outing to some out-of-the-way place, an attempt to do something new and exciting… some sort of adventure. And making time for an adventure isn’t always easy, especially when I’m feeling creatively blocked.

But when you’re feeling bogged down, coming out of the rut isn’t always so much about having new experiences as getting a fresh perspective. Or just getting out of the house. This is why walking helps. After looking at your computer screen for hours, even just a walk around the block gives you something new to look at, something different to do, and something else to think about. Doing this can clear your head and open up your mind, making it easier for the ideas to flow.

Even just a little bit of fresh air and sunlight can help. In fact, they’re necessary to both your physical and mental wellbeing.

So what I’m saying is, if you’re staring at the blank page before you, open up your dirty window. Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find. Or, if there isn’t any sun, then maybe feel the rain on your skin. In fact…

5. Release Your Inhibitions

(Yes, that last section was written specifically around the song lyrics to Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield, in order to build up to this section. Both tips are still valid and important, though. I make no apologies.)

My junior year of college, I took a semester of Improv. I’ve always been terrible at improv. I’m a writer. I’m not clever and funny in the moment; I’m clever and funny after several minutes of careful consideration. Nonetheless, I took the class and even did a couple of shows with the Improv team that semester.

And in doing that, I learned something: it’s not about coming up with something clever and funny. It’s about coming up with something. In improv, you don’t have the luxury of careful consideration. You don’t have time to craft the perfect line of dialogue. You reach out for whatever is there, and you put it on the stage. And once you’re able to let go of the uncertainty, of the second-guessing, of the inhibitions… You’ll find that there’s always something there. Moreover, it’s often something you never would have come up with if you’d taken the time to craft something “good.”

In the years since, I’ve found that this is true of creative blocks in just about any field. You’re not stuck for an idea. You’re stuck for a good idea. You’re stuck for an idea that you like. If you abandon that notion of coming up with something good and just reach out for whatever’s there… Something will be there.

So am I saying that, when you’re creatively blocked, you should just settle for creating something that’s not as good? Of course not. I’m saying that, once you have an idea to work with, in most cases, you can take the time to refine it and make it good. Not only that, but sometimes those uninhibited, “out there” ideas can be legitimately great ideas and lead to incredible work—if you’ll let them.

Unfortunately, this is another one that I’m still struggling with, myself. I know, logically, that it’s true, and I’ve experienced it plenty of times, but somehow I still get bogged down in trying to find the “right idea” and not finding anything that measures up. This is one of the reasons why looming deadlines tend to be an important part of my creative process—and why I so frequently find myself scrambling to meet them.

In fact, this very thing happened to me just last year. A group I’m part of announced a call for submissions for an anthology of time travel stories. Which, if you know me at all… An opportunity like that is like Christmas and my birthday rolled into one.

I had about a month until the submission deadline. And fairly quickly, I actually came up with a really good idea. It involved the apocalypse, a time traveling criminal underworld, and a world’s fair. I was really excited about this idea, and I started working on it immediately—

And then I stopped just as quickly, because nothing I was coming up with seemed any good. I had an idea of what the story was, but every decision I made seemed like the wrong one, and every sentence I wrote was an uphill battle.

Finally, the day of the deadline came, and I had only a few paragraphs of what I had planned to be a 10 or 15 page story. Even with a sudden, massive burst of creative energy, there was no way this story was getting done in time. So I had a decision to make. I could give up for lack of anything to submit, telling myself (as I often do) that it’s better to take the time and do it right than to scramble to create something subpar just to meet a deadline… Or I could scramble to meet the deadline. Come up with another idea, on the spot, write a (much shorter) story, finish it by the cutoff time (9pm that evening), and submit it.

I really struggled with the decision, and for a brief time, I did tell myself that not scrambling was better. But in the end, I chose the second option. I went on a frantic search through a myriad of old files, some going back decades, to try to find an idea that would work as a time travel story. Not a good idea, but just any idea.

Eventually, I found some very brief notes for a series of letters to a time travel advice column. Or rather, some notes for one letter to a time travel advice column, along with the subsequent note, “This could be a whole series!”

And then, finally, the massive burst of creativity came. I wrote the story over the course of an afternoon and evening, building one idea on another and not really having a clue where it would end up until I finished. Which I did, and submitted the story literally seconds before the deadline. There was no time for second-guessing, no time for refining, no time even for proofreading. It was just a matter of getting it all on paper (or computer screen) before the clock ran out.

Now, Kali Anywhen is published in an anthology… And my amazing “apocalyptic, crime syndicate, world’s fair” idea is still just a few paragraphs in a document on my hard drive. I’m very proud of Kali Anywhen. Soldiering on with a new idea was definitely the right decision, and I’m glad that that was the one I ultimately went with.

But at the same time, I can’t help but wonder… If I had attacked my first idea with the same frantic fervor that I had with the advice column idea… If I had approached it that way from the very beginning… Would that have been the story that ended up finished in an anthology? Of course, there’s no way of knowing what might have been. But the story is still there waiting for me, to find out what could be…

OK, we’ve reached number 5, so I guess that wraps up our—oh, wait. I skipped number 2. Oops. I guess I still need one more idea. Where am I going to come up with another idea for getting over creative blocks?

2. There Are Ideas Everywhere

In order to get over a creative block, you need ideas. You need inspiration. But I have good news for you. There is literally an infinite supply of both, all around you. Let’s try an experiment: Reach for the nearest book to you right now. It could be fiction, nonfiction, narrative, academic, or even a reference book. (In fact, I’ve found reference books work really well for this exercise. So do catalogues.) Whatever the book is, pick it up and flip through it. Chances are, within five minutes, you’ll come across something in it that sparks your imagination.

You can also do this with music, movies, TV shows, online articles and blogs… Or virtually anything else. One of my favorite resources for inspiration is Newspapers.com. The subscription is a little pricey, but if you have the means, it’s well worth it. It gives me access to literally millions of newspapers from all over the world, covering several centuries of history and culture. It’s great for research, particularly on historical projects, but it’s also great for browsing and finding ideas. You can browse news articles, but also opinion pieces, columns, advertisements, even comic pages. Just type in something related to your creative project and see where it takes you.

I also use cookbooks. Seriously, there are now three different cookbooks that I want to adapt into scripts. I’m not even sure how that happened. But cookbooks often reflect the lives of the people who wrote them and the time and culture in which they were written, both of which can provide great insights for kickstarting creative endeavors.

So if you’re feeling creatively blocked… Just look around. Really look. Maybe pick up something you haven’t touched in awhile, or go a direction you wouldn’t ordinarily go. Don’t approach it as, “Is there a usable idea in this corner? How about in this one?” Just experience it—whatever it may be.

Take the opportunity to clear your head and gain a fresh perspective—much like you would with a walk, or with an artist date. And before long, the creativity will start seeping in, washing over you, and filling you with new ideas, new inspiration, and new directions to take your project. The blocks will be gone, and the creativity will flow.

Guaranteed, or your money back.

Perfect Day- July 2025 Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 01 Jul 2025 21:12:28 GMT

Check out our July mixtape, Perfect Day to SPARK your creativity!

A soundtrack for sunshine, serendipity, and everything going just right..

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Zach Hammill | Writer | Director | Editor | Film Reviewer

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 01 Jul 2025 20:40:24 GMT

Zach Hammill
Writer | Director | Editor | Film Reviewer

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

I’m a writer/director, editor and part-time film reviewer based in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I love to work in sad comedies, funny dramas, and genre blends that are secretly character studies. I like to make comedies about things that maybe you shouldn’t make comedies about as a means of talking about hard things. I’m also a member of the Minnesota Film Critics Association, but I generally try to only write reviews of movies I love, because life is too short to rip apart something that someone worked hard on.

I lived in LA for 11 years and worked mostly in TV Post Production, but did a little bit of everything. While I was there, I became friends with Melissa Smith, Cortney Matz, Erin and Jake Thomas through the church we were all going to at the time, and I first got involved with Epiphany Space through their periodic Write-a-Thons. Those weekends were so valuable to me as I made so many wonderful friends and did in fact have many epiphanies about different scripts I would’ve been working on at the time. I found the table reads to be especially valuable and encouraging, both having my stuff read aloud, and also getting to be a part of other people‘s readings as an actor and as a sounding board.

Who inspires you? What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

These are maybe not the most original answers, but I don’t care. I’m going to site two films and two filmmakers that spawned this whole journey for me: RAISING ARIZONA , the second film by Joel and Ethan Coen, was the film that made me want to become a filmmaker. It was so wildly original and yet scrappy. It’s one of those films that is completely entertaining while still being unpolished enough that you could understand how the film was made as you’re watching it, scene by scene, shot by shot, and maybe the first film that I found truly empowering, like, “I could do that!“ I’m from Minnesota, so when I learned that the Coens were also from Minnesota, that really meant a lot. The second was Paul Thomas Anderson‘s MAGNOLIA . Oh my God. I was so moved by seeing a filmmaker give everyday lives such sweeping, grandiose, operatic treatment. That film informed the type of filmmaker I would like to be: one who makes things that have people say, “a movie can do that? You can tell a story like this in that way?“

Those were the early inspirations. I take inspiration from everywhere, from film (other influences are Hal Ashby, Robert Altman, Michael Mann, Bong Joon-ho, Nicole Holofcener), and from daily life. Now I have a lot of heroes that I know personally who are doing great things, and I root for them!

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

I think the first challenge that we all have to overcome as artists is one of confidence, in believing in yourself, and even more than that, believing in the material you’re creating. I tend to work slow on things that are personal to me, but when I finally get what I wanna do solidified, I cannot wait to make it. I think I have found things that I can do for myself to make myself feel proud and confident, and that just comes from daily routines: making sure that I’m eating well, sleeping, moving my body, and creating. And even on days when I write a bunch of garbage, just having the attitude of, “well, there’s more where that came from.“

Another big challenge is that of making enough money to be able to finance the personal work. I’ve had to get very savvy about how I fill my days and what I choose to do to earn a living. While most of my living comes from editing corporate documentary-style videos, I also rely on working at my kids’ school, substitute teaching, and odd jobs with a couple different friends who own their own businesses. The challenge then becomes prioritizing the work when there’s a lot of of it, and balancing that out with the actual time to do the writing I wanna do, which will lead to the filmmaking I wanna do. And of course, balancing that with providing for and raising a family.

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

I’m currently writing a short film called BYE FOR REAL that I’m developing with an actress here in Minneapolis. It’s a dark comedy that centers around value, mental health, and capitalism. The script is looking great, and I’m hoping to shoot that this year. I’m also developing a feature-length dark comedy/genre blend, which would be my narrative feature debut, and one for which I will keep plot details under wraps for now, but that could be in production next summer. We shall see! I’m also currently editing a feature documentary about a retired pro wrestler looking to get back into the ring for one more match called WRESTLING WITH TOMORROW, directed by my good friend Jason Schumacher. (There is a Kickstarter going right now for it here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/mikekinney/wrestling-with-tomorrow-documentary-0 )

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

I would love to have two completed features under my belt five years from now, having made some good headway on what I want to be my body of work. Tangentially, I would love it if the only things I were doing to earn a living were writing movies, making movies, and writing about movies. But until then, I’m super open for editing work!

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field?

I think I’ve spent a good chunk of my creative life really learning my craft, and now I’m writing stuff that I really feel like no one else can write but me. My advice would be, find out what you have to offer that no one else can offer, and I think that answer really just comes from living a full life.

Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

I would not encourage anyone to follow in my footsteps, because it has been really hard. What I would say is exercise, and put money away. If you’re looking for something more art life related, I’ll give you a line that my therapist uses all the time, which is “don’t stew, just do.” Don’t worry about the results of something, just do things. Creative work begets more creative work. As I said earlier, there’s more where that came from, so don’t be afraid of making a mistake or looking foolish. What else? Art is not a competition, but take it seriously. Don’t worry about trends and don’t listen to the doomsayers. Just put your head down and do your work. Watch a lot of stuff! Good, bad, older, international, and then steal from it!

Your Foolproof Guide to Overcoming Creative Blocks (Guaranteed or Your Money Back) | By Steven W. Alloway | Part 1

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 25 Jun 2025 03:52:45 GMT

Your Foolproof Guide to Overcoming Creative Blocks (Guaranteed or Your Money Back) (Part 1)

By Steven W. Alloway

A few weeks ago, I wrote about The Avalanche of Ideas —what to do when you’re overwhelmed with creative thoughts, coming from (and going in) every direction. But what if you have the opposite problem? You’re working on a specific project, you may even be up against a deadline, but the ideas just won’t come. You sit there staring at a blank page, a blank canvas, a blank computer screen, for minutes, hours, days, with no idea how to proceed. What do you do? How do you push through it?

Worry not, my friends. I’m happy to say that I have come up with a foolproof way of defeating those blocks once and for all. You will never again have a problem generating ideas, coming up with inspiration, or making headway on your projects or creative endeavors—guaranteed, or your money back! That’s right: every penny you paid to receive this article will be refunded to you, no questions asked. So without further ado, here is my rigorously tested, can’t-fail, five-step method for pushing past creative blocks:

1. <Insert Tip Here>
2. <Come Up With Second Tip>
3. OK, this is harder than it looks…
4. Maybe Something About Artist Dates?
5. Umm…

OK, yeah, I’ve got nothing. I think I’m going to need some help with this. Maybe I’ll talk to a few friends and see if they have any ideas. In fact…

1. Talk It Out
Whenever I’m stuck on a project, this is one of my most effective methods of getting through it. I find someone whose opinion I trust, and I talk through what I’m trying to do. Sometimes that means calling a friend up to explain my latest plot to them, or even just texting them, “Two people are standing on a street corner arguing, 500 years in the future. What are they arguing about?” (That was an actual text I sent to a friend a while back. The response: “Climate changes and teen slang.”)

Sometimes I’ll even put the question to social media. In fact, while writing this article, I posted to Facebook, “What are your most effective methods of getting over creative blocks?” The post currently has four comments. Two of them recommend walking. The other two recommend doing something else for a while, and then coming back. In fact, before even reading any of the comments, I took a break to do something else, and then took a walk. I can confirm that both were quite helpful.

Talking through a project can also mean opening it up to a group discussion in a creative community. This is actually how a lot of Spirit OnStage shows get their start. If I’m lucky, the script is maybe half finished when we start. Sometimes it’s just an outline and some dialogue snippets. But I call a group meeting, and we sit down and go through whatever I’ve got so far. Then the group provides suggestions for where to go next. Then we have another meeting the next week with a little more of the script, and a little more, and so on.

You don’t even necessarily have to take any of the suggestions being offered for this to be effective. I’ve talked through story ideas with friends and come away full of inspiration—only for the finished product to bear no resemblance to what we actually talked about.

I’ve had friends read finished projects after talking through the ideas with me, and comment that their suggestions must not have been at all helpful, because none of what we talked about made the final cut. But their conversation was, in fact, what helped me over the block. Even if the ideas themselves don’t get used, they function as a catalyst. One idea sparks another idea sparks another idea, and eventually something sticks.

3. Take Things Out of Order
This is one that I’m constantly having to remind myself of. When I’m working on personal projects, I tend to forget. I get blocked, I can’t think how to proceed… So I just stop working on it and put it aside. And you know what? Sometimes that break actually helps. Time allows you to come back to the project with a fresh perspective and renewed inspiration.

But if you’re working with a deadline, putting the project aside may not be an option. I love writing for festivals with a fast turnaround, like the 48-Hour Film Project, or the ZJU 50-Hour Drive-By Theatre Festival. In these instances, you have one day to write a script—sometimes less. There’s no time for writer’s block.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean it can’t still happen. I’ve got a vague idea of what I want my script to be about. I’ve got a couple of snips of dialogue in my head, and some thoughts on how it could end, but no idea how it begins. And then eventually I realize that I can just skip the beginning. Write out those snippets of dialogue and see if they lead to any more dialogue after it. Write the ending I’ve got in mind, and put it in a separate document. Then write what happened immediately before the ending.

Copy and paste it directly above the ending, and now there’s a decent chunk of script. Flesh out those dialogue snippets a bit, and now there are several chunks of script. After a while, you realize that you just need a few lines to link one section with another (I call it “connective tissue”), and you’ve pretty much got a completed script!

Often, the act of writing begets more writing. Figure out what you can do, and then do it.

I do the same thing with my professional writing. I’ve been a fulltime professional writer for 13 years, and in that time I’ve written literally thousands of blogs and articles, mostly with the same basic format, and many of them on the same handful of topics (e.g. air conditioning, real estate, and marketing). And yet sometimes, I will stare at the title I’ve been given for my latest assignment, and I will have no idea what to do.

Maybe I can’t figure out what to write for an introduction—despite the fact that I’ve written hundreds just like it. Or maybe I’m working on a list of five items, but I’m stuck on #1 and can’t think of anything to write.

So I’ll jump into the body of the article instead of the intro. I’ll start with #2 or #3 on the list, or maybe I’ll begin with #5 and work my way backwards. If I’ve got multiple articles to write, I’ll start with the one that’s shortest, or that I know the most about. It doesn’t matter where I start. The point is just to start writing.

Then once I’ve started, it’s easier to continue. Once I’ve started writing the body of the article, I understand it better, and am better equipped to write the introduction. Once I’ve written items 2-5, I’ve gotten enough of a feel for the topic that I feel more comfortable writing #1. I start where I can and do what I can, just to prime the pump. Just so that I can make progress. Then once I’ve gotten things flowing, they generally keep flowing.

OK, we’ve got a couple of tips written… What’s next? I feel like I had a good one picked out, if I only I could—Oh, right, now I remember:

Muppet Approaches to Dealing with Negativity

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 11 Jun 2025 15:01:35 GMT

Muppet Approaches to Dealing with Negativity

By Steven W. Alloway

We’ve all dealt with it before: you pour your heart and soul into your art, you put it out there into the world… and the world doesn’t like it. Someone writes a negative review. Someone lists all the things they thought were wrong with what you did and what you should have done instead. Someone boos or heckles you in the middle of a performance. What do you do? How do you handle it?

If you know me, you know I’m a big fan of the Muppets. Even if you don’t know me, you might have guessed at this by reading my Spark articles, wherein I frequently make reference to puppet projects I’ve done, am doing, or have plans to do, occasionally even mentioning how they’re not quite up to the standard of “my hero, Jim Henson.”

So yeah, I’m a big Muppet fan. I grew up watching them, from Sesame Street to The Muppet Show to the various Muppet movies to that Little Caesar’s commercial with the singing uvula. (I’m not sure if that last one was actually made by the Jim Henson Company, but it’s very Muppet-esque.) And they continue to be a source of both entertainment and inspiration for me now, in my adulthood.

What does this have to do with negative reactions to your art? Well, many of the Muppet characters are artists, and much of their content is about being an artist and making art. The format of The Muppet Show is a variety show—but it’s also about the characters who perform in that variety show, who put together strange and silly acts, week after week, to put before an audience. And in doing so, they frequently get negative reactions.

So, how do they deal with those negative reactions? Different Muppets handle negativity differently. And I think that examining some of those ways of dealing with negativity can be helpful to us in our own creative journeys.

Gonzo

Gonzo the Great is the “resident artist” of The Muppet Show . His work can best be described as both avant-garde and death-defying. The acts he performs involve things like cannonballs and high dives, but it’s not just circus acrobatics. It’s meant to be performance art. Most of the time, his acts don’t make a lot of sense. As such, when Gonzo goes onstage to eat a rubber tire to the music of “The Flight of the Bumblebee,” he gets booed. Quite a lot.

But Gonzo is resilient. He doesn’t care what the audience thinks. If they don’t like what he does, it’s just because they’re a bunch of uncultured yokels who can’t recognize great art. His act isn’t for them. Really, it’s for himself, to push the boundaries of his art in new directions—whether or not anyone else understands what directions those are.

There are times when I wish I could be more like Gonzo and just let criticism and negativity slide off my back, not worrying about anything but the art I’m making. As artists, this is often treated as the ideal: the Broadway director who never reads reviews, the Hollywood actor who’s not on social media and never hears all the nasty comments people are posting about them…It sounds like a pretty great way to go through life. It’s also easier said than done.

Plus, it’s important to remember that you can’t create in a vacuum. It’s true that not all art is intended for all audiences, but if you automatically dismiss any negative opinions with “They just don’t understand it,” or “They don’t know what they’re talking about,” then how will you ever grow or evolve as an artist?

The trick is being able to recognize which criticisms come from a place of understanding and which come from a place of not understanding. How do you do that? Well, that’s a topic for another Spark article. For now, we’re talking about Muppets.

Fozzie

Fozzie is the comedian. He has a million jokes and close to a hundred laughs. All the bad jokes, the dumb jokes, the corny jokes… Those are Fozzie’s bread and butter. On Muppet Babies , whenever Fozzie would tell a terrible joke, people would throw tomatoes at him. On The Muppet Show he just gets heckled by Statler and Waldorf, the two old men who sit in the balcony and… well, heckle. They have snide comments for everyone, but against Fozzie, they’re particularly merciless. Most other acts, they’ll at least wait until it’s finished before offering their commentary. Fozzie, they interrupt to tell him he’s bad.

But does Fozzie let their heckling get him down? Does he get discouraged when his jokes fall flat? Does he despair when his act doesn’t get any laughs?

Yes. He absolutely does. He hates the criticism. He often complains about it to Kermit backstage. There are episodes when he’s afraid to go out onstage, because he knows what’s coming.

But you know what? He goes out onstage anyway. Week after week, in spite of every setback, he still goes out there and does his act. Always with the hope that this time might be the time he knocks ‘em dead.

Fozzie isn’t afraid to try new things, either. Or rather, sometimes he IS afraid, but he does them anyway. Like when Scooter suggests that they team up to do “the old Telephone Pole Bit.” Fozzie is skeptical, but he agrees, without actually knowing what the old Telephone Pole Bit is. Then, when he finally finds out—and it turns out to be nothing like what he thought it was —he’s terrified, he’s outraged, and he absolutely refuses to go out onstage. And then he goes onstage.

Or the time he decided to try his hand at being the show’s writer, only to give Kermit a script that’s riddled with typos . Throughout the episode, Fozzie’s writing causes problem after problem for the show. But he keeps going.

I think Fozzie is most in line with my own approach to creative setbacks. I wish I could have the resilience to let it slide off my back. To do my own thing regardless of what anyone else thinks. But I don’t. It’s discouraging to put your heart and soul into a project, only to have everything go wrong. Or to have it be panned by the audience—or to have no audience at all. Yeah, there are days when I wonder why I even keep doing this.

And then I keep doing this. Because even though last time may have been bad, there’s always the hope that next time will be better. That’s what keeps me going. And I’m pretty sure that’s what keeps Fozzie going, too.

Miss Piggy

When people are mean to Miss Piggy or do or say things she doesn’t like, she karate chops them. Legally and ethically, I cannot actually recommend this as a way to deal with negative criticism, but if that’s what works for you, then have at it.

Kermit

Kermit’s a little different. He’s not usually a solo performer like Gonzo and Fozzie. Except on special occasions , there’s not usually a section of the show that’s “Kermit’s act.” Instead, the whole show is Kermit’s. He’s the captain of the ship and the glue that holds it all together—even when it’s all coming unglued.

That means whenever there’s a problem with one of those individual acts, it automatically becomes Kermit’s problem, too. When Gonzo or Fozzie or Miss Piggy or whoever else has a bad night, whom do they look to for help? Kermit.

It’s Kermit’s job to fix things when they go wrong. But more importantly, it’s Kermit’s job to keep his performers happy. When they come to him with an issue, it’s his job to help them resolve it. When they come to him with a demand, it’s his job either to figure out how to meet it (even when it’s impossible) or convince them that they don’t need it after all.

Of course, he doesn’t do it alone. Often, other members of the cast, or even the guest star, will come together to offer ideas or encouragement and help sort things out. Kermit keeps everyone together, but through his leadership, they’re all able to keep each other together.

And remember, Kermit’s also the one who gives Gonzo and Fozzie and Piggy, and the others a place on that stage, even when they bomb, and bomb, and bomb again (not that Miss Piggy would ever bomb, of course). They may not always be popular or well-received, but they’re family. It’s Kermit’s job to put on a great show, week after week. But his chief responsibility isn’t to the audience. It’s to the cast. Because he knows that, despite the setbacks, despite what the audience thinks, they’re the ones who make it a great show.

As a director and co-runner of a theater group, this is something I know a bit about. I’ve been the one everyone turns to when things are going wrong. I’m not a natural at it like Kermit is, but I do the best I can. And let me tell you, it’s a lot easier to deal with when you have the right people around.

I’ve told the story before about the professor who told me, “You always want to have the best possible people for any project,” and how I don’t entirely agree. I’d rather have the right people, the people who fit in with my group’s dynamic, the people who I enjoy working with, than the so-called “best people.”

And I genuinely think that doing things that way makes for a better show. There are problems, sure, and discouragement. But we deal with it together. Like with the Muppets, there’s plenty of chaos and insanity throughout any show I do. But also like the Muppets, that’s part of what makes us who we are, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

All About That Bass - June 2025 Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 04 Jun 2025 21:03:50 GMT

Check out our June mixtape, ALL ABOUT THAT BASS to SPARK your creativity!

Feel every beat from the ground up with bold basslines and grooves designed to get you moving.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Dennis Ricci | Novelist | NPO Leader

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 23:47:07 GMT

Dennis Ricci

Novelist | NPO Leader

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

I’m originally from Detroit, Michigan, the son of Italian immigrants. I’ve always been entrepreneurial at heart, and writing/communicating has always been my superpower, so to speak. I discovered that the wacky world of advertising was my career ticket to express who I am to the world while in college at Wayne State University. Even though I was also good with numbers and math, and was solid that I wanted a career in business, I quickly discovered that I wasn’t cut out to be an accountant. Thank God I did!

I first met Melissa Gibson Smith ten years ago at a conference in Pennsylvania. We’re both members of Global Awakening, the organization that presented that conference, and we met during a meet-and-mingle time. Global Awakening’s membership is East Coast-centric, and when we discovered we were both from the LA area and involved in creative work, we became fast friends. Over the years, my wife and I visited Epiphany Space, spent time with her and her family both in Hollywood and at our home in Thousand Oaks. We stayed connected after she moved home to Georgia.

In November 2024, I participated in an online Arts and Creativity workshop she presented for Global Awakening. I reached out to her afterward to share some ideas about future workshops, which led to more conversation about creating a group for writers. We also talked a lot about my personal needs for a supportive creative group, and Melissa extended a personal invitation to join Epiphany Space. I’m thrilled to be connected with you!

Who inspires you? What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

As a novelist, I’m always inspired by great storytelling, regardless of genre. As an avid fan of long-form television, I’m particularly drawn to Aaron Sorkin’s work in both feature film and TV series like The West Wing and The Newsroom . He has a way with dialogue that really resonates with me, and he’s a master of building and sustaining tension. That climactic scene in A Few Good Men ! Even though Jack Nicholson’s explosive “You can’t handle the truth!” line was an ad-lib, Sorkin’s ability to ratchet up the tension in that courtroom scene made room for movie history to be made. It’s just as compelling for me today as it was the first time.

Novel-wise, my tastes were pretty eclectic in my younger years. The Bonfire of the Vanities is my all-time favorite work of satire, and I was really into historical novels after taking that class in high school. I read a lot of James Michener and James Clavell. Then along came Tom Clancy and The Hunt for Red October . I devoured every one of his Jack Ryan stories, including the 1,200 page Executive Orders . Other thriller authors I enjoy reading and am inspired by include Brad Thor, Joel C. Rosenberg, Michael Connelly, David Baldacci, and Steven James.

Of all the storytellers who move and inspire me, the one who makes me say “I want to do that” is Robert Dugoni. His versatility resonates strongly with me; he’s equally adept in legal/courtroom suspense, police procedurals, and literary/coming of age stories. The three novels that exemplify his versatility the best are The Jury Master , My Sister’s Grave , and The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell . I had the opportunity to participate in a four-day Novel Writing Intensive with Dugoni and Steven James, and it was an enormous boost to my storytelling. He saw my potential, gave me outstanding feedback, and ended up doing a cover endorsement for my first novel, Perilous Judgment .

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

The first and greatest creative challenge I had to overcome was the lie that I didn’t have permission to pursue my passion to be a novelist. From the time my first fiction teacher, DiAnn Mills, awakened me to my talent as a novelist to becoming a published author nine years later, struggling with that lie, that pursuing my art and craft was a wasteful use of my time, a shirking of responsibility as a husband, father, and business owner, was rough. I’m so grateful to my wife for her support in overcoming that debilitating, limiting belief I carried for years.

The other challenge that helped me grow as a writer and storyteller was developing a thick skin. No one likes to hear that their baby isn’t perfect, but you must get feedback from other people who have walked the artistic journey ahead of you. As an author, you must make the final creative decisions, but you need a “team” of editors, beta readers, and story doctors to make your work the best it can be.

Third, you have to know when it's time to ship your work. George Lucas famously said that he didn’t finish Star Wars: A New Hope as much as he knew it was time to walk away and release it.

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

I’m working on a seven-episode fiction series that dives into the geopolitics of the AI arms race and explores what I believe is the true eternal conflict—not good vs. evil, but life as it was designed by God to be lived vs. humans’ insatiable thirst for knowledge and self-determination. The episodic form will mirror, to some extent, the runaway success of long-form television and acknowledge the effect of streaming video and binge-watching have had on how people engage with stories. I’m working with a world-class story coach who’s really on top of that.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

I’m blessed to be at the stage of life where I’m able to do exactly what makes me most come alive creatively—write pulse-pounding thrillers that both entertain and provoke readers to consider their own beliefs about life and what matters, and teach/encourage other writers to rise up and do their very best work, fully develop the creative genius they’re born with, and to persevere through every obstacle. Opposition builds your character as a person and an artist. It’s vital to your growth.

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

Story ideas come from practically anywhere, but investment in building your craft is an absolute must. You’ve got to get your butt in the chair and put in the work. You’ve got to study the masters of the craft and focus on story craft—knowing the form, what makes a great story great. Great turns of phrase and beautiful sentences are important, but the path of transformation through adversity, served up inside a plot that takes surprising but inevitable turns in the life of your characters, is everything. Writers write, and the only way to get better is to build a solid foundation of craft, knowing there’s no limit to your artistic and craft growth except that which you put on yourself. You also need to develop a fearlessness about your work and what you put on the page. As Robert McKee taught me, write the truth. Write the truth about yourself through your characters. Write the truth of the human condition and be as circumspect as you can on “big-T” truth. Challenge your own beliefs about the world, about people, even about God, and whether he exists and how he manifests in the world. Write to discover. Be authentic with yourself, and that will come through in your work. And don’t write to be “on trend.” Culture shifts and changes so quickly now that, when writing a novel that can take several years to complete, the wave you mounted when you began writing your novel or screenplay will likely be irrelevant by the time you release your work.

Rediscovering Our Creative Playground at Epiphany Space

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 27 May 2025 22:08:56 GMT

Rediscovering Our Creative Playground at Epiphany Space

By Suzanne Yada

In short: we have turned play into something that feels an awful lot like work. No wonder so many of us feel blocked!

S = Start with What You've Got

The first step is deceptively simple: start with what you've got. That means diving headfirst into your current surroundings, situation, resources, and ideas. You don't have to reach far, but so many artists forget to look right under their nose for inspiration. If you're a musician, use the beat of your heart for your tempo. If you're a painter, notice a shade of color within your eyesight. It's about recognizing that every masterpiece starts with simply observing what is around us.

P = Play with the Variables

Next, it's time to play with the variables. This step encourages you to take what you've got and switch up just an element or two. What if you used gouache instead of acrylic to match that color shade you see? Or what if you add a bassline idea to that heartbeat of yours? Creativity thrives on experimentation, and this step encourages you to mix things up, one little element at a time.

I = Follow Your Interest

As you explore, pay attention to what piques your interest. Yours, not anyone else's. Not whether this will advance your career or please someone else. Just your own interest. This is where the magic happens. That bassline could give birth to a melody, and that color could make way for an interesting shape. By following your curiosity, you align your work with your passions and artistry, creating a process that's fulfilling, fun, and 100% you.

Once you've got your interest pinpointed, then you can take it to the beginning again: Start with what you've got. Then play with the variables. Then follow your interest, again and again.

R = Randomness: Try opening a book to a random page, flipping a coin, or hitting shuffle on your Spotify. It could be a prompt to your next step in the work you're creating.

A = Accountability: Have a friend or mentor keep you on track with feedback and deadlines. That's why most of my students come back time and time again to my 8-week songwriting courses: they need that weekly deadline.

L = Let it be: Sometimes we just need to give ourselves and our ideas a rest. It's OK. Put it up on the shelf and take it down later when it's time. Just remember it's there.

It's also why I'm so thrilled to host the next Epiphany Space artist-in-residency program, Visual Verses. This summer, we’re giving creatives the freedom to play, explore, and create without the weight of expectations. Whether you're an artist, musician, or a "creative weirdo" of any stripe, you're invited to join us in rediscovering the joy of the process.

Every third Thursday this summer (June 19, July 17, and August 21), I'll be hosting a Concert and Art Party series where I'm inviting you all to cut, draw, color, and glue while listening to my alter ego @ Little Spiral @ play an intimate show on the house piano. Bring snacks and art supplies you want to share, in an intimate setting that’s more like a cozy house party than a formal concert. This is a chance for the community to get hands-on with our inner creative spirit, whether we call ourselves an artist or not.

In addition, every Thursday during June, July and August, we'll be opening up our Epiphany Space Hollywood clubhouse to visual artists for the day to cowork alongside me. I'm going to be noodling away on the house piano at Epiphany, working on the next @ Little Spiral @ banger, while visual artists will be creating their own artistic world alongside the piano. It’s less about perfecting a masterpiece and more about falling in love with making art again, in collaboration with a creative community, at artist-friendly day rates that won’t break the bank. Instead of clocking in at a cubicle, you’ll join a community of creatives in a space built for inspiration.

So, if you’re ready to swap perfection for play and deadlines for daydreams, come join us at Epiphany Space this summer. Let’s embrace the mess, celebrate the process, and find joy in creating community.

The Avalanche of Ideas

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 13 May 2025 20:47:50 GMT

The Avalanche of Ideas

By Steven W. Alloway

The Avalanche of Ideas

By Steven W. Alloway

When was the last time you had an idea? For many of us creative types, the answer is typically along the lines of “sometime in the last 10 minutes.” But when was the last time you had a really good idea? Something you’re genuinely passionate about, something that’s really worth pursuing? Still in the last 10 minutes? Yeah, that’s where things get a bit trickier. Believe me, I know the feeling.

I just finished with a show this weekend: an immersive children’s show based on the biblical story of Balaam and his donkey. I’ve been working on this show with Spirit OnStage for a couple of months now. Then, about a week or two before we had our performance, I had an idea for what I wanted our next show to be. Nothing wrong with that, right? It’s good to have a plan, after all. So after Balaam is over, I can dive right into the next project.

It’s great in theory—until you’re supposed to be planning rehearsals, assembling props and costumes, and figuring out music options for your current show, which is less than a week away, and instead you find yourself planning out possible acts for the new show, which you haven’t even announced yet. And then you realize that the acts you’re thinking of would be better suited to the OTHER show you were planning, before you put it on hold to do a show about Balaam and his donkey.

We’ve all been there. OK, maybe not the specific scenario I described, but we’ve all had the general feeling of idea overload. There are so many things we want to do, and there are only so many hours in a day. Even if you’re juggling multiple projects at once (which some of us aren’t great at); even if you’re great with time management (which again, many of us aren’t); and even if you’re forgoing sleep (which you really, really shouldn’t do)… there are always going to be more ideas for projects than you have actual time to create projects.

As such, plenty of great ideas fall by the wayside, losing momentum or just being completely forgotten about. What can we do about it, though? How do we manage the Avalanche of Ideas to ensure as many of them as possible get their due? How do we figure out which ones are worth pursuing and which ones can be safely let go? How do we keep ourselves on track for our current projects without being pulled in all different directions and ultimately being driven insane?

Well, if your goal is “not being driven insane,” then you’re asking the wrong person. But for all the rest… I have a few ideas.

0. Become a Vampire

When you have more projects bouncing around than you could reasonably complete in one lifetime, immortality starts sounding like a pretty good option. As a vampire, you’ll have centuries at your disposal, to turn every single idea that crosses your mind into a fully realized finished product. As long as none of those projects require daylight. And as long as you don’t mind the whole blood thing. And as long as you’re OK with giving up garlic for the rest of—OK, you know what? Maybe this one’s not such a great option after all.

1. Categorize

Before writing this article, I did some research online to see what the experts have to say on dealing with the Avalanche of Ideas. Most of the advice I found began with some version of, “Write it down,” or “Make a list,” or “Get a notebook.” I won’t insult your intelligence by making those kinds of suggestions, though. I’m sure you know how to write your ideas down.

No doubt you have plenty of notebooks already, plus the Notes app on your phone, Word files on your computer, etc. They can definitely be helpful, but they don’t solve the problem on their own. After a while, the metaphorical Avalanche of Ideas becomes a more concrete Avalanche of Notebooks and Lists.

So what I like to do as I write my ideas down is put them into categories. Is this a simple idea, or a complicated one? Is it something I can do mostly on my own, or is it something I’ll need to rally the troops for? Do I have the resources? Will I need to do a fundraiser? Win the lottery?

Separate the categories in whatever way makes sense for you. A different notebook for each type of idea? One notebook with different sections? File folders? Folders on your computer?

That last one is what I use. I may have mentioned before, I have a computer folder called “Expensive Short Film Scripts.” It’s exactly what it sounds like. Scripts I’ve written for short films that I would love to make, but don’t have the money for. They range in complexity from, “Some scenes take place in a grocery store, and I can’t afford to rent one for filming,” to “An army of flying saucers invades London.” I don’t have the resources to do these scripts justice right now, but when I do, I have them ready.

There are countless other ways to categorize your ideas, as well. Is it a play? Short story? Song? Business idea? Is there a particular genre or theme that it fits into? The more specific you can get, the better.

I have probably a dozen different documents in various places, all of whose filenames are some variation on “Ideas.” When I’m looking for an idea for something, these files are typically the first place I look. And you know what? I almost never find anything there. There are tons of ideas there, but none of them are the type of idea I’m looking for. None of them fit the situation currently at hand.

But the more specific you get in labeling your categories, the easier it will be to find the idea you need—and the more likely it will be for those ideas to see the light of day.

2. Talk It Out

Like most things in life, the best way to get a handle on the Avalanche of Ideas is with the help of other people. Got a great idea, but you aren’t sure what to do with it, or how to put it in motion? Got 10 different ideas, and you’re not sure which to pursue first? Get a friend or group of friends you can bounce ideas off of. Someone you’re close with, someone you can trust, and who you know can provide you with good feedback beyond just, “Hey, great idea!”

Chances are, they’ll bring up things you never even considered. Even if you don’t take a single one of their suggestions, their fresh perspective—or even just the act of breaking your idea down for someone who hasn’t heard it before—can set your mind going in new directions and provide the clarity you need to continue.

This is also a great way of finding out who’s willing to help you out with these ideas, whenever you do start to pursue them. Back in February, I wrote a Spark article about how difficult it is to ask for help , and how disheartening it can be when people say no. But by talking through your ideas with your close friends first, it can give you a good starting place. You can tell who’s excited about it so that, when it’s time to recruit people to help out, you know whom to start with. Sometimes, someone may even say, “Let me know when you start working on this! I’d love to be a part of it!” (Protip: When you get this kind of feedback on one of your ideas, it’s a pretty good sign to move that one up to the top of your list.)

Finally, talking through your ideas may lead you to discover that it’s actually a great idea for someone else. This has happened to me on occasion. I’ll have an awesome idea that I know I’ll never actually use. It’s not the sort of thing I’d actually be interested in pursuing—but it would be really cool if someone else did!

So I’ll think about which of my many immensely talented friends might be better suited to a project like this, and I’ll tell them about it. Do they actually follow up and try to do it? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Sometimes it will spark in them a completely different idea. But either way, the idea has been given a good home, and it’s one less snowflake in my own avalanche.

3. Let It Rest

When sorting through your ideas, time sensitivity is another important factor to consider. Is this on a deadline? Is this something you’ve built up momentum on? Or will it keep awhile?

I mentioned earlier having put off doing a different show in order to mount my Balaam play. The other show was going to be a fundraiser dinner—something I was really excited about doing. It was also big and complicated and would require a whole lot of resources to pull off.

In the meantime, at my mother’s church, there was some excitement building with regards to the Bible story play we had done there a few months earlier. It was a big hit, people loved it, and the question became, “When are you going to do another one?”

And as it happened, I had a script ready and a plan for how to stage it—an idea I got while rehearsing for the previous play. But not yet. Fundraiser first, then Bible story play.

I was planning on doing the fundraiser dinner around March or April. It quickly became clear that that wasn’t nearly enough time to do things on the scale that I had planned. OK, so we could push it to May or June… But then after that, I’m going out of town. I won’t be back until the end of July, so the soonest a new Bible story play could be mounted would be August. I was planning on doing part of the show outside, though, and August would be way too hot for that. Maybe September or October, then. And by then, it’s been a full year since we did the previous play, and we’ll have lost much of the momentum that we built from it.

The fundraiser dinner had no momentum yet, though. It’s something that we could do anytime. And in fact, if we did decide to put it off, we’d have more time to gather resources and figure out logistics, to make it a truly great experience. The choice was clear. Balaam play now. Fundraiser dinner later.

This is one of the most important aspects of dealing with the Avalanche of Ideas: knowing which ones can wait. The other most important aspect is, of course, knowing when to come back to them, so they don’t have to wait forever.

Sometimes the best thing you can do with an idea is just to let it rest. Put it aside for a while and come back to it later. This accomplishes several things. It helps you to prioritize your projects and get a better understanding of their urgency, by identifying which ones can be put off and which ones can’t—and what will happen if you put Project A off vs. putting Project B off.

Letting your projects rest also helps you gain a new perspective. Right now, you have an idea, but maybe you’re not sure what to do with it. If you put it in a drawer and come back in a month, a year, a decade, you’ll have all new eyes to see it with and all new experiences to bring to the table as you move forward.

This is also a great way to discover which ideas won’t wait. Honestly, most of the ideas I have, the first thing I do is to put them aside, at least for a day or two. If I’m still thinking about it tomorrow, still considering ways that it could be done… Then I know I have a good idea that’s worth pursuing. And if I try to put it aside for longer, but instead I keep turning it over in my mind as I’m working on my current project… Then I have a pretty good idea of what my next project should be.

As for the ones that will wait… the key is to keep coming back to them. The longer you leave them in the drawer, the less likely they are ever to get out of it. An idea may not be ready right now, but you can still check in on it every now and then to see how it’s steeping. I do this periodically with my Expensive Short Film Scripts and similar projects that I’m nowhere near ready to move forward with. I’ll go through it, make some changes, jot down some ideas, and see if I have any new perspective to add. Even if it’s still not actually ready to come to fruition, I might be able to get a better handle on when and how it will be ready. And in the meantime, I can improve on what I’ve got.

Unfortunately, no matter how good you get at sorting through and dealing with your Avalanche of Ideas, you’ll never be able to do everything. And if you try, you’ll just end up getting buried. So unless you find a way to take the Vampire option, there are always going to be at least a few things you need to let go.

But even if some ideas never bear fruit, they can still find life in other ways. The seeds that were planted can still give way to other ideas, other projects, other avenues that never would have been open to you otherwise. You ever know what an idea may lead to, or how it may affect your creative journey. So instead of running from the Avalanche of Ideas, embrace it, go with it, learn to navigate it, and let it carry you to places you never im agined.

Carissa “Chrissy” Taylor | Writer | Editor | Actress

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 06 May 2025 23:59:39 GMT

Carissa “Chrissy” Taylor
Writer | Editor | Actress

So, tell us a bit about who you are and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

Hi, my name is Carissa “Chrissy” Taylor! I graduated from Huntington University with a double major in Film Production and Film Studies, but I refer to it as a professional storytelling degree.

During my last semester of college, I studied abroad in LA. I interned with Epiphany Space and that’s how I met Melissa, Cortney, and Erin. It was a very interesting internship because Epiphany Space was moving locations, but I’m very grateful that I got to intern with them. I’m glad I was able to reconnect with Melissa and Epiphany Space a few years ago. It has helped to have that support in regards to my creative endeavors.

Who inspires you? What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

My favorite author is John Green. My favorite books by him are Turtles All the Way Down and Looking for Alaska . I admire how he doesn’t shy away from the more uncomfortable and difficult topics of the human experience. I am very honest and vulnerable in my writing, especially in my poetry. It’s important to be authentic in a world that continues to have a filter and only wants to show the more pleasant parts of life. My goal in being more authentic and realistic is that people don’t feel alone when they’re going through difficult things.

Also, it’s not a creative person or creative work, but I am very inspired by turtles. They're my favorite animal. Turtles are very resilient. They can get hurt very badly and, with the proper care, are able to recover. They’re also able to survive on their own until they get rescued. I’ve always told myself that “slow and steady wins the race,” and I have to remember that when it comes to my creative process.

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

Speaking of being vulnerable, I had a medical malpractice surgery in 2019 that caused two of my chronic illnesses. It took years to get properly diagnosed with my chronic illnesses and have a surgery to correct the medical malpractice surgery. Being in chronic pain and not being able to treat it until getting a proper diagnosis is very traumatic.

During that time, I isolated and had a hard time being creative. I didn’t feel like I would be able to write ever again because I was so depressed. Thankfully, I ended up writing a lot of poetry to get my feelings out, and it was very cathartic.

I ended up self-publishing a book with 8 years' worth of poetry, from before, during, and after my healing journey that I went through. It’s called Chronic: A Healing Journey Through Poetry , and it’s available on Amazon. I am very proud that I was able to take my pain and turn it into something creative.

Currently, I am dealing with new health issues that have come up. However, I have written more poetry regarding it, and I think I’m able to cope with it better than I did before.

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

Despite being chronically ill and figuring out new health stuff, I am working on putting together another poetry book. The last book took about 8 years of writing poetry, so I’m slowly gathering more poetry to add to the new book.

I am writing a fantasy novel as well. It took over a year to work on the world-building for it. This project is very personal to me, so I’m hoping to dive into it more this year and get a lot written.

Also, I am hoping to start making and editing videos for my YouTube channel and post more on social media. Health issues have gotten in the way of that, but I’m hoping once I get my health issues figured out, I can start building a platform.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

That’s a really good question. I would like to publish more books, especially another poetry book. Another thing is, I would like to be consistently posting on YouTube and sharing my writing and poetry there. I’m planning on making video essays and talking about my experiences so that people don’t feel alone. It’s also important to me because hearing about other people’s experiences opened my mind to be more empathetic. I hope other people can also be empathetic to what I’ve gone through.

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

While I was taking screenwriting classes in college, I was constantly told to “write what you know.” I think I was afraid of writing about my experiences because I hadn’t processed them. Once I finished going through my healing journey, I found it much easier to talk about everything I had gone through in my life, and it was a lot. I think it’s important to write about your experiences, but not necessarily get lost in them. Processing through them beforehand definitely helps with writing and creating art, especially if those experiences were traumatic.

Rain Shine - May 2025 Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 06 May 2025 23:36:25 GMT

Check out our May

Mix tape to SPARK your creativity!

From stormy skies to golden rays, Rain Shine is a moody-bright mix of songs that celebrate the rain, the sun, and everything in between.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

When Rest IS the Work by Beth Stavros

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 30 Apr 2025 00:40:17 GMT

When Rest IS the Work

By Beth Stavros

When Rest IS the Work
by Beth Stavros

My name is Beth, and I’m a work-a-holic. A full-fledged, “multiple-ten-hour-days-per-week”, “every-employer-brings-up-her-work-ethic work-a-holic”. And I’m pretty sure it’s ruining my life. But, what if I told you that rest was part of the work? And not participating in it is making your work suffer?

Because it is!

And I’m saying this as someone who is consistently near-sabotaging themself with over-work.

Can’t focus on tonight’s big work event I’m leading? Maybe I stayed up all night taking it apart in my head because if this event goes off without a hitch, people will see that I am a grown-up who can be trusted with important things.

Tuckering myself out right before a big performance? Could it be because I didn’t listen to my body as I should have and instead just rehearsed harder and harder the week of said performance, because–dang it–I can make something perfect if I don’t stop working on it?

I can’t say exactly when this mindset started for me, but I’m guessing the recession contributed to it. See, I graduated from college in 2009. Yep. That 2009. And while people were telling me to “chase my dreams,” I was darting like a highly caffeinated pinball between any of the three (sometimes four) part-time, low-pay jobs I had been lucky enough to charm my way into. I was locked into survival mode, running myself into the ground because student loan debt wasn’t going to just vanish. And besides, I had gotten my first job on my fifteenth birthday. I was no stranger to working, and now, I didn’t even have to square work with my university studies. Three to four jobs at once was totally doable! Even if it wasn’t, it took all those jobs with all their powers combined to give me the bare minimum I needed to scrape by, so it's not like I had much choice in the matter. (As a storyteller, I feel duty-bound to tell you that these “scraping by” years were spent splitting half a duplex best described as “imitation Tudor-meets-mod-meets-eighties, but it’s not a friendly meeting” with five to six other people and their various pets, which included a pigeon.)

Now, I live in Wisconsin, in a 121-year-old house that I only have to share with my husband and two cats. By some miracle, I’ve started to be able to make a living as an artist.

A real, live, working artist! (I can’t believe it either.)

And you know what? I’m still running myself into the ground–this time for an entirely different set of reasons than sheer survival (Though, I am still battling that scarcity mindset. Maybe more on that in a different article.) If the work isn’t perfect, I convince myself I can make it so through self-denial. I tell myself I can eat or sleep after I make the work better. If the work is good, I feel guilty for taking a breath when I could be making more good work, since I must be on a roll and it would be wrong to waste it. And does anyone else out there have to fight the looming feeling of guilt for not working on their art ALL THE TIME because it’s something we’re so lucky to do as artists and we should be making the most of it at any given moment?

I say all of this so you’ll know that when I talk about rest, it has NEVER come easy for me. Whether I was burning myself out for lack of setting boundaries in office jobs, or not letting myself go a single day without hours of writing when the thing I really desperately needed was just sleep.

I'll say it again: rest has never come easy. And certainly not when it came to creating.

I think, on some level, I always knew I wasn’t going to scrape any semi-respectable writing out of a brain that was battered to paste from having no time to recuperate. But there is a difference between knowing something and believing it. (Just ask Tilda Swinton’s angel Gabriel from the Constantine film.) And so, despite this knowledge, the ruthless approach to writing was my approach. And I don’t know if I’d have ever really re-thought my methods if I hadn’t gone into circus work. Because when you really need rest as a working aerialist, your body gives you no other option than to do so. And there are plenty of things you should be doing when not actively in the air that are still very much part of the work. Like stretching. Eating quality meals. And sleeping. A lot. All these things are part of the work. And if I don’t do these things, my body just stops working as it should. Needless to say, I've finally had to rethink my approach to how I create.

So, I’m trying to take a cue from my physical training and take the same approach to my writing: hard resets between shorter bouts of work. (In the same way that two hours of training is fine if it’s good training, 250-500 words is fine, if it’s good writing.)

I also look for things that are part of the work. Listening to that music I find super-inspiring–just letting it wash over me? Part of the work.

That walk I want to take to step away from my novel-in-progress and get some perspective? Part of the work.

That sleep I really should get because the chapter I’m working on just keeps rambling? Part of the work.

I’m still learning not to feel bad for taking this approach, but here’s the thing: I like what I have been writing since this tweak a lot better than what I was writing before it. And you know what? I like writing better than I have in a while.

If my pre-circus creative habits/approaches sound anything like yours, please know I wish I hadn’t taken over a decade to rethink them. I urge you to ask yourself what your work looks like.? Not just productivity as we have come to view it, but all the other things that nourish the process and enrich your creativity. Those things matter.

So here’s to the work. All of it. The work-work, and the rest-work. May we partake generously in both.

5 (Free) Ways to Nurture Creativity and Heal from Burnout By Cortney Matz

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 15 Apr 2025 22:59:24 GMT

5 (Free) Ways to Nurture Creativity and Heal from Burnout

By Cortney Matz

Artists work HARD.

We are tough cookies, and we have big dreams. Plus, we really love to work!

Between working on yourself, your art, your job (which is different from art, even if you create for a living), your relationships, and your chores at home – work abounds.

You probably know how it feels to overdo it.

What do you do when life is too much, work is too much, and pouring your soul into a work-in-progress just doesn’t hold the same pizzazz that it once did?

I hope these suggestions for five (free) ways to nurture yourself as an artist will offer you a fighting chance to live in peace and harmony while producing good creative work.

0. All the things you already know

Sleep, food, water, exercise, meditation , judicious applications of caffeine…

Congratulations for knowing stuff already. Now take a moment to recognize which of these habits you’ve been missing, which one you already know tends to make a difference for your overall wellbeing. What helps you feel like you?

Pick that and see if you can have a little bit more of it this week.

Life happens and healthy habits can get disrupted. Try not to overwhelm yourself with a huge overhaul, just make some small adjustments in a health-ward direction.

1. Take a day off

Ideally, we get two days off. That’s what weekends are for, right? But artists are unusual, and work happens when it happens. Performers often ONLY book gigs on weekends.

Doesn’t mean we don’t also work all the other days of the week.

Taking even one day to rest each week is a total game-changer. But I’m so behind on everything! Who can afford to take time off?

That’s burnout talking. Don’t let it boss you around.

The less time I have to take a break, the more I need it. Stepping away from the day-to-day hustle is incredibly empowering and freeing. Strangely, I feel so much less overwhelmed. The next day dawns, and I actually feel some hope and anticipation for it.

What does this “rest” mean for you? Sleeping all day? Working in your garden? Road tripping to parts unknown?

Yes, and whatever else appeals to us on the day in question. My one rule of thumb for my rest day is: no decision-making.

Life as an artist is FULL of choices and logistical considerations, especially for how to make the best use of your time. Give yourself the gift of one day where you don’t have to decide. Just go with your gut, your family, or whatever path of least resistance offers itself. Recharge those decisive batteries for tomorrow.

2. Indulge

As Steve Alloway wrote about in his last article , a dry well needs refilling. Let your parched soul soak in the created works that you enjoy.

Read a book, ride a bike, go somewhere you’ve never been – even if it’s a grocery store. Creatives thrive on new experiences, and whatever appeals to you in this moment counts.

Whether it’s a weekend retreat with your TBR pile or sneaking episodes of your favorite podcast in between meetings, let your heart delight in fresh reasons to love what you love. Bonus points: find someone else who loves it so you can talk to each other about HOW MUCH you love it, why you love it, and how glorious your love is.

Glory in your love.

3. Schedule pure playtime

When you’re creating on a deadline, even the most wonderful creative work can become a chore. When I’m preparing a big concert , I’m learning to give myself a few minutes at the piano just to play whatever I want.

No useful music allowed! This is where the magic gets a chance to sparkle.

This works for creativity that is not related to your primary discipline. Writers can paint! Singers can dance! Event planners can tickle the ivories! Whether it’s a return to a long-forgotten equestrian pastime or just a different outlet for your colorful soul, the landscape is wide open.

Protect your free creative space. Even 5 minutes. Even ONE minute (you can create a lot in one minute!). You have permission to create badly within that time frame, for the pure fun of it.

Set a timer and do it. Then do it again tomorrow.

See how those minutes make a difference in your creative healing.

4. Lean into your community

A wise woman once said, “What the heck do you mean by ‘community’?” And it made me wonder… yeah, what the heck DO I mean by ‘community’?

‘Community’ has become kind of a buzzword, but I think of it this way: my community is made up of the people with whom I share my life. Many of those people are you, my artist friends, reading this right now.

Who better to talk to about the very real pain and disappointment of creative burnout? It doesn’t have to be a sobfest, but if you’re overwhelmed and hiding, it’s okay to be honest with your peeps.

When you get invited to your artist friend’s gallery opening?

“I’m so proud of you, and if I’m feeling up to it, I will absolutely be there. Just trying to navigate some burnout.”

When you HAVE to finish writing five pages before 6 PM or forever face the consequences, and you Just. Don’t. Wanna?

“Hey, artist friend, can you sit with me for 20 minutes until I can get into the groove?”

But also, if you need a sobfest, go for it.

You’re never alone in these feelings; we all face them with some regularity. Look for the people you can trust when you’re not 100% yourself, and let them help carry you through. Do the same for them.

5. Trust yourself

Please believe me when I say that this state of burnout is temporary. You will come back from this.

When I’m feeling the inevitable “letdown” that follows productive seasons of creativity, I hate it. As many times as it’s happened, it always makes me wonder if I will ever love music again.

But your body and mind are FULLY committed to your survival. Emerging from tough seasons and life interruptions is only challenging because everything in you is focused on vital functions. Your mind knows that it’s important to create, but your gut is like, DON’T DIE.

So ease into it. Cut yourself a break and recognize that you are alive today because of these very instincts.

Going slow and taking the time to nourish your inner artist can go a long way to speed your recovery. Before you know it, you’ll be having ideas and rallying the troops to collaborate, assembling supplies, and kicking your vision into high gear.

Has this been helpful?

Maybe you already know this, but Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist's Way has been an invaluable part of my life as an artist, and I recommend it at any stage of creative development, whether you’re brimming with possibilities or putting the ‘brr’ in brrned out.

Always worthwhile to revisit this gem!

Creative burnout can be incredibly painful. Please don’t take my lighthearted tone as a flippant disregard for the betrayal and disappointment that can bubble up in this season.

I get it.

And I’m curious, how do these ideas strike you? Do you see some potential here?

Shoot me a note and tell me about it: @cortneymatz on IG or cm@cortneymatz.com by email.

More about my own creative endeavors:

SoMysterio.usgames and immersive experiences

Music and musings on creativity

Creating from a Place of Fullness: 5 Ways to Refill Your Creative Well By Steven W. Alloway

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 09 Apr 2025 16:53:26 GMT

Creating from a Place of Fullness: 5 Ways to Refill Your Creative Well

By Steven W. Alloway

You can’t draw from an empty well. In The Artist’s Way , Julia Cameron talks about the importance of keeping your creative well filled. Something doesn’t come from nothing, so in order to maintain your creative output, there needs to be periodic creative input. Which means every now and then, your creative well needs to be refilled.

The main way Ms. Cameron recommends for doing that is Artist’s Dates: small, solo adventures and activities that help stimulate your mind and refresh your soul, in order to help the creativity flow. I’ve already done an article on Artist’s Dates , and I may well do another, one of these days, as there’s a plethora of different ideas yet to explore. But that’s not the only way to refill your creative well. So let’s look at some other things you can do to keep yourself creating from a place of fullness.

1. Consume Great Art

We are able to do amazing things because we stand on the shoulders of giants. Who are the great people in your field? Great musicians, great authors, great filmmakers, great painters, great poets… It’s important to seek out their work and immerse yourself in it. Seek out the great people in other fields as well. Seek out whatever you can find and devour it voraciously.

Seeing what they’ve done will give you a better understanding of what CAN be done: things you never would have thought of on your own. Which can then give you ideas for things that you can do. Will that make your art seem rehashed and derivative? It doesn’t have to. Every piece of art you consume has some influence on what you create. But as you develop your own creative style, the things you experience are refracted through the lens of that style. The influences are clear, but the final product is clearly and undeniably yours.

And how do you develop your creative style? By experiencing as much great art from as many other people as you can. The more sources you have to draw from, the more unique your own art becomes. So seek out new things… But also revisit your favorite things regularly. You never know when you might suddenly find a new perspective on something you’ve seen or heard a thousand times before. Or maybe it will just provide a much-needed reminder of why you started doing what you do in the first place. Either way, it can leave you renewed, inspired, and ready to create.

2. Consume Terrible Media

I saw a post not long ago that said, “No one ever created great art by watching bad television.” And I wholeheartedly disagree. I can’t tell you how many stories, scripts, and other projects of mine have spawned, either directly or indirectly, from watching something terrible.

First, there’s the practical aspect. “This is so lame, so predictable. It would have been so much more interesting if they’d done this other thing instead…” And suddenly, you have a really cool idea, to do this other thing instead. It could be a plot that plays out one way instead of another. It could be a different storytelling style or format, or a different genre. It could be a character making a different decision, or having a different motivation… Or focusing on an interesting side character instead of the boring, mundane main character. Change a few details so it’s not a direct ripoff, flesh it out a bit more, and suddenly you’ve got an awesome project that sprang directly from a terrible one.

But even if it doesn’t directly lead to better ideas, sometimes bad media can help you creatively, simply by allowing your brain to reset. Not everything you read, watch, or listen to has to be some deeply profound experience that stimulates great thoughts and even greater emotions. Sometimes you can just watch something stupid, because it’s fun.

It’s not good, by any stretch of the imagination. It’s not going to win any awards or change your life. But it might just help you to turn your brain off for a couple of hours, after a stressful or challenging day. And then once it’s over, you’re refreshed and ready to start creating again.

Of course, if all you consume is trash media, then what you create will likewise end up being trash. The key is to strike a balance. Today, you can watch Casablanca . Tomorrow, you might watch Timecop 2: The Berlin Decision . In my experience, in order to create from a place of fullness, you really do need both.

In fact, consuming bad media can give you a better appreciation for things that are truly great. There have been times when I’ve spent weeks slogging my way through a mediocre TV show, then when I finished, switching to an old favorite—or even discovering something new, that happens to be really good. It’s like a veil being lifted from my eyes. Like the sudden relief of an air conditioned room after a long journey through the hot desert. “Wow! That’s right! There’s some really amazing art in this world!” And then it inspires me to go create some of my own. Without experiencing that contrast, though, the impression might not have been so profound, and it wouldn’t have been nearly as inspiring.

3. Accept Invitations

I remember a time, a number of years ago, when I was extremely bored. I had spent most of the week working, which meant I’d hardly left the house. Hadn’t really talked to anybody, much less hung out, done anything, or gone to any events. So it was a welcome surprise when a friend of mine, whom I hadn’t heard from in forever, called me out of the blue.

“Hey, Steve! What are you doing this Thursday?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “I’m doing whatever you’re going to invite me to do.” My friend was an actor, so I figured he was inviting me to a play, maybe a comedy show, possibly a concert…

It turned out to be an informational meeting for a multi-level marketing opportunity. So yeah, not what I had in mind. But you know what? I’m still glad I went. I had a chance to catch up with a good friend and meet and talk to some new people as well. The meeting itself was weird, but kind of entertaining. And there were decent snacks. At the bare minimum, it was better than sitting at home doing nothing.

If you want to keep your creative well filled, it’s important to get out of your comfort zone and do things you wouldn’t ordinarily think of doing. And one of the best ways to do that is to go with friends to do the things that they’re doing.

Maybe that means a friend’s birthday party. Maybe it means a group hike. Maybe it means a book club, or an open mic night. If it’s something we don’t normally do, the temptation is often to say no right off the bat, without really paying much attention otherwise. And maybe no is indeed the right answer. But I encourage you to get into the habit of at least thinking about it first. Really give it some thought. Is this something you want to do? Is this something you could do? If not, why not? Will it at least be with friends you enjoy spending time with? Will it be a new or interesting experience? Is there a possibility of getting a good story out of it?

If, after all of that, you’re still not feeling it, and you’d still rather say no… That’s fine. Knowing when to say no is as important as knowing when to say yes (and we’ll cover that in just a bit). But really weigh the options first and figure out what benefits there might be, if they might be worthwhile, and if this experience might be something to help refill your creative well.

But for heaven’s sake, wait until they tell you what the event is before saying yes.

4. Support Your Friends

This ties in with accepting invitations, but there’s another layer to it. It’s about going out and doing cool things, but also experiencing art, connecting with friends, and so much more. If you’re anything like me, you’re constantly bombarded with invites from your creative friends to the shows and other events they’re doing. I couldn’t possibly go to all of them, even if I had the money, and even if I wasn’t busy with projects of my own. There’s just too much going on to make time for it all.

But that’s the key: making time. You can’t do everything. But with a little Schedule Tetris, you might be able to fit in an event that you didn’t think you could go to. And if you can, it really is a good idea to do it, even if your first instinct is to turn it down.

Because when you attend your friends’ shows and creative endeavors, you’re doing more than just getting out of the house and having cool, unique experiences. You’re also building community. You’re being exposed to groups and organizations outside your circle, which is great for your creative well. And you’re showing support for your friends, and for the effort that they’ve put into the projects they’ve done. You’re connecting with them about something that they care about, which is also a great way to fill your creative well as their excitement and passion about what they’re doing spills over to you.

So let’s say, hypothetically, that a friend of yours is a really talented musician. And that friend is going to be doing a concert at another friend’s church, playing, for instance, a scaled-down, acoustic version of Handel’s Messiah, on, just to choose a date at random, the day before Easter, April 19th at 5 PM. Attending this event would be a great way to refill your creative well in a variety of different ways: by consuming great art, by going out and doing cool and interesting things, by connecting with friends and fellow artists, and by sharing in your friend’s passions—and so many other ways as well. So if you should happen to find an event like that … Well, then, I’d say you hit the jackpot.

5. Know When to Say No

Going new places and experiencing new things is great. And it’s invaluable to ensuring your creative well stays filled, so that you have plenty to draw from. However, there’s always a limit.

You can’t do everything. Even if your schedule says you have time, sometimes your mind and your body will tell you that you don’t—and it’s important to listen to them. If you’re forcing yourself to go to every event you can, eventually it becomes overwhelming, and you can find that your well is actually being depleted more than it’s being filled. If you want to continue filling your well, sometimes you just need to stop, take a breath, and just be.

Of course, finding that point can be tricky. There have been times when I’ve been dead tired, and the last thing I wanted to do was go out… But I dragged myself to someone’s event anyway, and once I was there, I was glad I did. It turned out to be something that energized me physically, emotionally, and creatively.

But then there have been other times when that wasn’t the case. I’ve pushed myself too hard, too far, to do too many things, and ended up running on empty.

I can’t tell you when moving forward is the right thing, and when it’s better to step back. I can’t tell you which events will help you feel fuller and which ones will drain you. It’s up to you to feel it out. In the end, just like with great art and bad media, with new experiences and familiar favorites, it’s all about balance. If you can find that balance and maintain it in everything you do, then you’ll always be able to create from a place of fullness, no matter what’s going on around you.

Mandy Williams | Performer

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 02 Apr 2025 17:00:00 GMT

Mandy Williams | Performer

Update: Mandy Williams’ one-woman show, The Funny Thing About Men, is a witty, laugh-out-loud exploration of the dynamics between men and women in everyday life. Packed with sharp observations, clever musical numbers, and personal anecdotes, Mandy offers a relatable and humorous take on everything from relationships and household responsibilities to societal expectations placed on women. With her signature British charm, Mandy guides the audience through the trials and triumphs of balancing a career, love life, and the unspoken "mental load" that often falls on women’s shoulders. Songs like "Ain’t No Thing a Woman Can’t Do" and "Things I Know Against My Will" hilariously capture the essence of modern womanhood, while heartwarming moments remind us of the enduring power of love and self-discovery. Brimming with insightful humor and catchy tunes, The Funny Thing About Men will leave audiences smiling, reflecting and singing along as they recognize themselves in Mandy’s hilarious journey.

Tell us a little bit about who you are, what you do, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

My main gig is as a singer. I’ve also written a couple of children’s books. My passion project right now is my one-woman comedy show so I am so grateful to have found Epiphany Space and this amazing group of “Adventurous Spirits” and creative souls.

I was working with Shelby {Bond} at the Northern California Renaissance Faire and he invited me to come to Supper Songs. I fell in love with the community of artists and what they offer and have been coming ever since. This was about a year and a half ago.

You wear a number of hats, including writer, actress, and musician, among others. How did you first get started in the arts? Tell us a bit about your creative journey.

I started dancing as a toddler. My mum exposed me to all the old classic musicals as a kid and I was hooked. I always loved to sing pop music too. My dad was very funny and there was always laughter and music in the house. My sister and I would make up dance routines in the living room then we’d show them our performance. So I went through dance training which led to a scholarship to go to Italia Conti Academy of Performing Arts in London. I started working as a dancer then got a job at Walt Disney World Resort in Orlando. Orlando is a great playground for performing artists so I was able to start honing my crafts as and singer, dancer, actress, and comedic actress.

I know you’re a veteran Ren Faire performer. How did you get involved in that? What’s it like?

I felt very out of my element at first because I had never experienced a Ren Faire. I didn’t “get it.” Now, after 14 years, I feel so lucky that I get to perform in a (well-known on the circuit) comedy duo show. I feel quite proud actually because it’s a very strong female show. We wear absolutely no make-up. Hair sticking up, wound around coat hangers, and blacked-out teeth. It’s very liberating and the bawdiness of our characters is quite powerful. Yay, Girl power! ;)

Any cool Faire stories to share?

What happens at the Ren Faire stays at the Ren Faire.

Oh, go on then, since it’s you...

The thing is, our greatest moments come in the spur of the moment because there’s lots of room for improv. Of course, we forget them the next day! We have been very lucky with the weather but I do remember a torrential downpour which forced the faire to close. Of course, the roads in the faire are dirt so imagine deep, slippery mud everywhere. Now, there are some real “characters” that work the Ren Faire so I remember some of those characters rolling around and then running around caked in mud. It looked liberating but I didn’t partake. ☺

Who are some of your creative idols? Who inspires you?

I have always been drawn to funny people. And I’m inspired mainly by funny women. And strong women like a Bea Arthur type. Most of my idols are British so let’s see if anyone has heard of them…here goes:

Miriam Margolyes (Professor Sprout in Harry Potter. Catch her on Graham Norton. She is wickedly naughty and mischievous)
Victoria Wood ( Brilliant mind and most famous for her comedy song The Ballad of Barry and Freda)
Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders (a comedy double act but I love Dawn French in The Vicar of Dibley and Jennifer Saunders in her show Absolutely Fabulous with Joanna Lumley)

I think that’s enough for now.

I recently heard from a reliable source (you) that your long-awaited one-woman show will be debuting at Hollywood Fringe later this year! Tell us a bit about the show and what it entails. What’s the experience been like bringing it to the stage?

I am completely inspired by my role model Victoria Wood. I love the down-to-earth nature of her comedy and her songs so that’s what drives me.

My show is shining a spotlight on how, in my observation, women seem to do most of the domestic work including remembering birthdays, etc. so I decided to run with that and make a comedy show out of it. It’s a way for women to connect (hopefully) and men too. It’s not mean-spirited at all. I don’t want to alienate anyone. Just men and women having a laugh at ourselves. My show is music-driven and I’m excited to share my songs.

It is thus far THE most exciting (and scariest) thing I’ve ever embarked on. But mostly exciting.

Have you got any other cool projects on the horizon? What do the next, say, two or three years look like for you, creatively?

What I’m really hoping is that my show is well received and that I take it to Edinburgh in 2025. My dream would be to keep developing it. Maybe add a cast and include dance numbers. My template would be like a Spamalot-type thing. In my wildest dreams, I would take it to New York.

And finally, what advice would you give to anyone else looking to get into music or theater or performing or any of the other myriad things you excel at?

You don’t have to wait and hope someone gives you a job. It would be easier if we booked every gig we auditioned for but that certainly hasn’t been the case for me. I believe you will find a way to do what you love. The only person that needs to believe in you is YOU!! There are no small gigs. It’s all experience and the more you get out there and practice your craft, the more seasoned you become. The more confident. You will continue to hone your skills. The thing is, if you are passionate about something, you will keep doing it. The more you do it, the better you get. If you are doing what you love, then you are successful in my book.

Connect with Mandy Williams
Instagram: @mandywilliams9932

Classic Rock - April 2025 Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 01 Apr 2025 19:16:30 GMT

Check out our April

Mix tape to SPARK your creativity!

Timeless anthems that never go out of style: Crank up the volume and let iconic riffs and legendary vocals take you on a journey through the golden age of rock 'n' roll.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Finding Your People by Steven W. Alloway

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 26 Mar 2025 16:43:24 GMT

Finding Your People
By Steven W. Alloway

People like to talk about how difficult it is to make new friends as an adult. There’s a myriad of jokes and memes about it, as well as people genuinely asking for advice in that regard… Or simply resigning themselves to the fact that making new friends simply isn’t in the cards for them anymore.

I’ve never understood this mentality. I’m largely an introvert, but I still have never had a problem meeting new people or finding new friends. Then again, I have one key advantage: I do theater. I’m part of several different theater groups that do shows throughout the year. Each new show comes with a cast of people, whom I get to see and interact with regularly over the course of several weeks.

Some of them are people I already know, others are strangers whom I then get to know over those weeks. Once the show is over, some of them I’ll never see again, while others I’ll continue to keep in touch with for months, even years. I’ll work with them on their projects, they’ll work with me on mine. And if we’re not working together, I’ll go see and support whatever projects they’ve got going on, and they’ll come support mine.

Then the next play comes along, and we’ll do it all again. I don’t become friends with everyone I work with, but I do have a steady stream of people in my life with whom I share common interests, to the point where the concept of “not being able to make new friends” is completely foreign to me. How can you not be able to make friends?

Friends are everywhere!

Of course, not everyone works in theater, so they don’t have that steady stream of new people coming into their lives. Still, the basic principles can be applied to other areas as well.

So with that in mind, here’s Steve’s Basic Guide to Making Friends as an Adult:

What do you like to do?
Where are there other people in your community who also like to do that?
Go to that place.
Meet your new friends.

There are groups for just about anything. If you’re into a sport, or interested in taking up a sport, there’s probably a group near you that plays, either formally or informally, whether it’s football, basketball, baseball, or pickleball (I have written articles on “Where to Find Pickleball Leagues Near Me” for cities all across the country. I’m still not 100% sure what pickleball is, but it is apparently a great way to get exercise and meet new people).

If you’re into games, be they card games, board games, or role-playing games, look for game shops in your area, and chances are there’s a group that meets there regularly to play one of those games. Or if there’s not, the staff will likely know where you can find such a group.

If you’re into crafting, there are groups that meet up regularly to craft together. If you’re into gardening, there’s probably a community garden in your area somewhere. Whatever it is you like to do, there’s a group near you that’s doing that. Ask around, do a Google search, and you can probably find them. And just like that, you’ve got a whole group of new friends.

Your Friends and Your People

Of course, there’s a difference between making new friends and “finding your people.” As long as you’re a reasonably friendly person, even if you’re not particularly outgoing, just about anybody can be at least a casual friend. But finding your people, your group… That’s a little trickier.

First let’s start with what I mean when I say Your People . Have you ever walked into a room and just thought, “This is where I belong”? You find a group, and it just clicks. They understand what you’re saying without your having to explain yourself all the time. Your weird quirks, rather than being something everyone has to get used to, are actually what help you fit in with this group. From the moment you meet these people, you’re on the same page. Those are Your People .

Of course, not every endeavor you take on will lead to finding your people, even once you find a group of friends with similar interests. Sometimes it’s just a one-off fun experience, and afterwards, everyone goes their separate ways. You might decide to continue hanging out with them, but it’s not a high priority, just a pleasant diversion. Or sometimes it’s not a fun experience at all, and afterwards you’re glad to be going your separate ways.

The Wrong Room

Sometimes you walk into a room and everything clicks. And sometimes it’s just the opposite. From the moment you enter, you just can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the room you’re supposed to be in.

A few years ago, I did background on a short film that a friend of a friend was shooting. The director put all the cast and crew in a Facebook group together, so he could update us on the project. Then one day, a couple of months later, someone on the crew reached out to the group with an opportunity. He was participating in a 96-hour film event, wherein teams have four days to write, shoot, and edit a short. Did any of us want to join his team?

I’m a veteran of the 48-Hour Film Project, and that type of endeavor is right up my alley. So I told him I was in. I didn’t know him very well, but he even let me be on the writing team. I was unbelievably excited.

The day of the event arrives, and we make plans to meet at the director/team leader’s house to write our film. And once I arrived… Well, this was not the room where everything clicks. This was not the right room. This was the wrong room. The moment I walked in, I just felt like I wasn’t supposed to be there. Not that I was unworthy or not good enough. Just that these were not My People .

For one thing, the director had a very different approach to the project than what I was used to—one which I didn’t really understand or agree with. Moreover, as we pitched potential ideas back and forth, I felt like none of mine really landed or were understood by the rest of the writing team—and the ideas that were landing were ideas I couldn’t really connect with, making it difficult for me to contribute. I did my best, but it was clear, I didn’t belong there. And that was nobody’s fault. This just wasn’t the right project for me.

This was a group of film and theater people, doing a project that I’ve done many times and have always loved. By all outward appearances, the experience should have been great. But these just weren’t My People . And sometimes that can be the difference between a great experience and a bad one.

After the script was done, I was originally meant to stay for the rest of the weekend and lend a hand on set. But instead, I politely excused myself and chose to spend the next day meeting with Spirit OnStage—my theater group, and the epitome of My People .

Finding the Right Room

Sometimes you walk into the right room. Sometimes you walk into the wrong room. The difference is usually clear, if not from the very start, then at least early on. Creative fulfillment lies in knowing which rooms to stay in and which ones to leave.

But how do you find the right rooms? If it’s still possible to clash, even when all the right elements are there, then how do you find the people you click with? Honestly, a lot of it is trial and error. You never really know until you get into the room.

"The Basic Guide to Making Friends" still applies. Find places where people are doing things that interest you, and go do those things with those people. Not all of them will be Your People , but some of them might be. It’s all a matter of looking for opportunities and taking advantage of them when they come along. You never know how things will turn out until you get there, so you need to keep yourself open. Some of them will pan out, some of them won’t. But the more open you are to those opportunities, the better chance you’ll have of finding and connecting with Your People.

Opportunity Knocks

And sometimes you hit the jackpot. Thirteen years ago, an old friend from college reached out and told me about a show she was choreographer for, called Geeks! The Musical . It seemed right up my alley, she said, and would I be interested in auditioning? Sure, why not.

So I auditioned, and I got in. Nothing fancy, just a chorus member, with one or two quick lines. But the experience was amazing. Everyone in the cast clicked, we all had a great time, and the show was incredible. Honestly, it’s one of the most fun and rewarding theater experiences of my life.

But it didn’t stop there. A couple of months after the show closed, one of the cast members announced that he was directing a show at another theater, in North Hollywood—a place called Zombie Joe’s Underground. I told him I was interested, and I’ve been working with ZJU ever since. I’ve done more shows than I can count there, made so many amazing friends, had so many incredible experiences.

Through Zombie Joe’s, I also got involved with several other theaters, for which I’ve written, acted, directed, done sound… And of course, gotten connected with plenty of amazing people.

And still, there’s more. Also in the cast of Geeks! The Musical was one Betsy Freeman. Through Betsy, over the years I’ve gotten to meet a whole lot of cool people and get involved in a number of cool projects. In particular, it was through Betsy that I met Cortney, who got me connected with Epiphany Space. And my experience discovering Epiphany Space is pretty much the epitome of walking into a room and immediately realizing: This is the right room. These are My People.

I sometimes think about what my life would be like if I hadn’t gone to that audition. I honestly can’t picture it. It would be something very different and likely almost completely unrecognizable. So many different aspects of my creative life, so many places I go, so many of my friends, so many projects I’ve created or helped out with, have been a result, either directly or indirectly, of my being in that show thirteen years ago. It’s led me to do some of the best work of my life in terms of writing, directing, acting, and more. And it’s led to close friendships and amazing creative partnerships. In short, that one opportunity, that little role in the chorus, opened up the door for me to find My People , again and again. And those people have changed my life in ways I never could have imagined, helped me do things I never dreamed of.

And that’s why being open to those opportunities is so important. Not all of them will pan out. But when you finally find the ones that do… The sky’s the limit. When you find Your People , there’s nothing you can’t do.

Accepting Help by Steven W. Alloway

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 12 Mar 2025 14:53:39 GMT

Accepting Help

By Steven W. Alloway

A few years ago, I saw a meme that went something like this:

“Baking Competition Show Idea: Like The Great British Bake Off, except each baker is paired with an excited toddler who really, really wants to help.”

The implication, of course, is that the toddler’s presence would be a constant hindrance to the baking process, their “help” would be more trouble than it was worth, and television-worthy shenanigans would ensue. Now, I admittedly have never baked around or with the help of toddlers. However, many years ago, I WAS the excited toddler who really wanted to help, whenever my mother would bake. And I still remember her very simple solution to this situation.

Walnuts.

Whenever she would bake chocolate chip cookies, my mother would measure out a cup or so of walnuts, then dump them out onto a plate. My brother and I were tasked with breaking them up into smaller, more manageable pieces and putting them back into the measuring cup. While we did that, my mother would assemble the rest of the cookie dough, explaining each step as she went along, so we knew what was going on. By the time she was done, we would be too, and the walnuts could go into the finished cookie dough, along with the chocolate chips.

My mother started baking cookies when she was not much more than an excited toddler herself. She knew (and I’m sure still knows) the Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe by heart, and I don’t doubt she was well-practiced in breaking up the walnuts on her own. But she still found ways to include us in the process and to let us help when we were so eager to do so, even though we didn’t yet possess the necessary knowledge or skills in baking.

In my last Spark article, I talked about having the courage to ask for help when we need it. But what if we don’t actually need the help—but there’s still someone offering it? It doesn’t necessarily have to be an excited toddler. It could be a fully capable adult, who does have skills in the area of our project—just not ones that we necessarily need to make use of at the moment.

What should we do? How do we accept help that we don’t need? SHOULD we accept it? For a lot of people, myself included, when someone asks us, “Is there anything I can do to help?” our first instinct is to say, “Thank you, but no.” But often, we don’t actually take the time to think about it first. “No” is our automatic response. Someone just offered to take some of the burden off of us. Why are we so quick to turn them down? Let’s look at some of the possible reasons—which can in turn help us understand how better to accept the help people want to give us.

We Don’t Think They’re Serious

This one is unfortunately true a lot of the time. Especially when people hear you complain or vent about something you can’t do or don’t have, they’ll say, “Oh, is there anything I can do to help?” People say it just to be polite, or to sympathize with your problems. They’re not expecting you to take them up on your offer—and so you don’t.

Except that some people DO want to help. They’re not just being polite—it’s a genuine offer. And if you just dismiss any offer of help because you don’t know if it’s serious or not, you could end up missing out on a lot of potential help from any number of unlikely places.

So how do you determine if an offer of help is genuine? First, instead of automatically saying, “No,” try feeling it out a little. Turn it back to them.

“Let me know if you need any help!”

“Oh, what kind of help were you thinking of? What would you like to do? Did you have anything in mind?”

They may have some specific skill they’d be willing to provide, an area of interest or expertise that would be helpful to you in your endeavors.

Or, more likely, they’ll turn it right back to you and say, “Just whatever you may need. Let me know.” This may be a brush off, their way of telling you that they were, in fact, just being polite. But it might not be.

Continue feeling things out. Talk about the various things you’re working on, the areas that might require assistance, the things you might need. Give them some options. If they continue to be noncommittal, then just leave it. But if something sparks their interest, talk to them about next steps and see about getting them on board to help. Maybe they’ll still flake out. But if they do, you’re no worse off than you were before.

Either way, though, communication is vital. You need to make sure everyone is on the same page in terms of the help that’s needed versus the help being offered. I’ve run into this any number of times.

When I offer help, it’s always genuine. When I ask, “Is there anything I can do?” I’m not only willing to lend a hand, I’m actually hoping you’ll have something for me to do. Yeah, I’m still the excited toddler, deep down. But I try to be careful and conscientious about it. If I’m not prepared to jump on board and provide help, I won’t offer. Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t still run into problems.

A couple of years ago, some friends of mine were putting on a big event, for which they needed creative people of all types: writers, actors, bakers, puppeteers… Basically all the stuff that I love to do. I was eager to get on board. So I talked to the person coordinating volunteers—who was someone I didn’t know. I introduced myself, we talked for a bit, and I told him, “I’d love to help out with this project in any way I can!”

“Excellent!” he told me. “We could use you as event security!”

And suddenly it became clear that we were not on the same page—or even in the same chapter. What I meant when I said, “I’d like to help,” and what he heard, were two very different things. This is one of the things that makes negotiating help—either giving it or receiving it—such a precarious proposition at times. But with clear communication, these issues become less likely. Again, if their ideas and yours aren’t aligned, you’re no worse off than you were before—as long as you figure it out up front.

We Can’t Think of Anything

Especially when someone offers help out of the blue, we might not know what to tell them. We’re caught off guard, so even if there are a hundred different things that could benefit from some assistance, we can’t think of them in the moment, and so we just say, “No.”

It helps, in these instances, when you’re working on a project, to put together a list at the beginning, of, “Things We Need.” Then, add to it as more things arise and cross things off as you get them. It’s great for organization, and it can help keep you from being caught off guard. Someone wants to help? Here are the ways they can help. Are any of those things within their wheelhouse?

Or maybe it’s not for a specific project. Maybe it’s just a general offer of help. Since there’s no specific goal, there’s no list of needs, and you do end up caught off guard. And when you’re caught off guard and can’t think of anything, the instinct is just to say, “No.” But train yourself not to. Instead, take a step back, and take some time and think about it. Get contact information from the person offering to help you, if you don’t have it already, and take a day or two to figure out what role they could play in your creative endeavors.

This is also another instance in which communication is essential: talking to the person offering to help, to find out who they are, what their strengths are, and what kinds of things they’re looking to do. While you’re taking your time to think things through, bounce some ideas off of them and see if it sparks any ideas for them. Even if you don’t know what you could use them for, maybe they do—or maybe you can figure it out together.

We Actually Don’t Need Any Help

As I said in my last article—and in most of my articles—you always need some help. We don’t do anything entirely on our own. But maybe you’re fortunate enough to have all of your bases covered at the moment. You have people assigned to each of the tasks you need done. All the items on your list are crossed off, and there are no more to be added. The things you’re doing yourself aren’t just because you have to, but because you genuinely want to. You have all the help you need.

First of all, count yourself lucky. This is a very rare and enviable position to be in. Second of all… Find something for them to do anyway. Find them some metaphorical walnuts to break up. There’s always something, if you look hard enough.

Because here’s the thing: the offer might not be about you. It might be about them. They may not be offering because you look like you need something, but because they want to be part of what you’re doing, in any way they can. It’s not about the task. It’s about making the connection. And connections are something we could always use more of.

If you can find something for them to do, however small, then next time, maybe there will be something bigger for them to do. Then once they’re established, once they’ve secured that foothold, there could be all sorts of other opportunities to work together, to help each other, to collaborate. If you accept help now, even if you don’t need it, then maybe next time you ARE looking for help, you won’t have to look as hard.

Maybe they don’t have the necessary skills or experience to help you out with what you need. But maybe there’s somebody they could assist, in order to gain the skills and experience. As an excited toddler, I wanted to help, but there wasn’t a whole lot I could do yet. Over time, though, I learned more about the process and got so I could do more and more. Now I bake all sorts of cool and exciting things. And it all started with walnuts.

Kristina "Kina" Mickahail - Giblin | Animation Artist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 05 Mar 2025 18:00:00 GMT

Kristina "Kina" Mickahail-Giblin
Animation Artist

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

I’m Kristina “Kina” Mickahail-Giblin and I’m an animation artist, freelance illustrator, fiber artist, sculptor, painter, and so many other things - I contain multitudes and unexpected plot twists.

Recently, I was a Color Designer and Background Painter on X-Men ‘97 , a life-changing experience and one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. Previously, I worked on animated shows such as Baby Shark, Final Space, New Looney Tunes, Bunnicula , and lots more.

On some occasions I do set decor, makeup, hair, and costuming on live action sets - a short sci-fi film I recently loved working on called Bright Forests was screened at the Austin Film Festival and Dances with Films. I even got to do costume design for the Love From the Other Side music video with Fall Out Boy.

In my spare time, I’ve been known to illustrate my favorite native SoCal and ancestral plants and create diagrams and exhibit illustrations for my small-group summer NASA challenges. Some mornings I try to paint or draw how I’m feeling to warm up and ground myself.

Epiphany Space was first a place where I could get away from the noise of life and focus on being artistic, inspired and in community with other creatives like me. Over the years, I’ve volunteered, been part of the co-working space, taken classes, and hosted several events at Epiphany Space.

Who inspires you? What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

My childhood painting teacher Elaine was the first person who really saw me for who I was and accepted all of me. She helped me cultivate a passion that fuels me even today.

Otherwise, so many people from different walks of life inspire me - my indigenous Coptic Egyptian ancestors, astronomy photographers, botany illustrators, scientists of all studies, classic painters and sculptors, modern cinema giants, historians, video game concept artists and developers, futuristic architecture, and fashion designers….

I want to see it all, I want to do it all. There’s not enough time or energy for me to do it myself, so I live vicariously through them and let their work inspire me.

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

I’ve experienced hunger, homelessness, joblessness, uncertainty, and a lot of anxiety for most of my life. It’s been hard to talk about because it hasn’t always been safe to - eventually I found people that truly saw me and supported who I was and wanted to become, and found refuge in those communities and spaces. It’s especially challenging when misunderstandings can be there - It’s easy for folks to forget where I came from when I seem “okay” nowadays. It’s getting easier for me to express where I came from and how hard I worked to get to where I am now.

The fact is, I was dealt a bad hand and it truly sucked, to say the least. However, I had to recognize that I alone was responsible for myself and my actions. No one else could rescue me - to become my own hero, I had to take calculated risks to make things better, as terrifying as it was.

It took an insurmountable amount of perseverance and courage along the way - it still does, even when things are significantly better now. To trust the right people, seek support from folks who were able… to ASK for help and receive it. I had to be okay with seeing my shortcomings and where I could improve.

The best practice for me was to frequently “feel the fear and do it anyway”. Essentially trust-falling with myself and my support groups.

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

I’m working on a book cover for an independent author, and it’s been a fun collaborative experience as the creative process has shifted.

I’m working on a series of classes for being creative in times of crisis - something I happen to know a lot about as art and imagination kept me alive. I was made for these times, and I want to show others how to keep their spark of inspiration and hope alive even when things are formidable or chaotic.

Personally, I’m experimenting with embroidery - historically Coptic Egyptians tattooed early Christian iconography and motifs on their bodies, so I’m studying texts, traditions, and images from that time and applying it to my own clothes using this technique. Right now I’m allowing myself to explore and have fun with it while connecting to my heritage.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

I have no idea where the future will take me. I have interests in so many things, and I learned the ability to pivot my skills and career by necessity - for all I know, I could be building sets for a fantasy film or doing illustrations for scientific case studies. I hope it will be fun and that I’ll work with lots of amazing people, wherever that is.

Though it would definitely be a bucket list experience to possibly work with Guillermo Del Toro someday!

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

When things go well, ENJOY THE MOMENT! Savor it. Milk it for all its worth in the most respectful way possible. When things inevitably do go wrong, know that you’re in good company and most certainly not alone. There is absolutely no shame in having to work different jobs to fund your creative endeavors.

Look for the people who support what you’re doing - sometimes that will look different depending on the person.

Don’t take anything personally unless it becomes personal.

Be patient, learn resilience.

Be open to possibilities, look to alchemize your experiences and talents into other modalities to keep yourself going.

Be kind, have gratitude, and help others up when you can too, even when you’re struggling. You never know where a genuinely kind word might go.

And, if you love it enough, keep going in any way you can.

Brit Pop - March 2025 Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Fri, 28 Feb 2025 21:25:06 GMT

Check out our March

Mix tape to SPARK your creativity!

A soundtrack straight from your record collection—iconic Britpop anthems, timeless British rock, and singalong classics. Press play and let the British invasion take over!

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

How To Ask For Help

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 26 Feb 2025 15:43:42 GMT

How to Ask for help

by Steven W. Alloway

Society tells us we need to be independent. Don’t rely on others. Don’t trust anyone but yourself. Be self-sufficient. Needing help just slows everything down. Needing help makes you look weak.

I’ve talked again and again about why that’s a terrible and ultimately unsustainable way of life. Human beings are communal creatures. We need each other. As I’ve said before, any number of times, the only way any of us is getting through this life is together.

Particularly as creative people, the things we do, the projects we participate in… We can’t do them alone. You can write a book by yourself, and you could even self-publish, but if you want to make it a book worth reading, you need editors, proofreaders, beta readers, and more. If you want an audience for it, you need people to help you promote it. Even if you’re doing a one-person show, you’re going to need help mounting it, from tech to a venue and more.

Anything you do in this world, you’re going to need help. Which means, if you want to do anything… You’re going to need to ask for help. It’s a daunting prospect. Reaching out to someone else for assistance means being vulnerable. It can mean feeling inadequate. And it can mean risking rejection.

Asking for help is one of the hardest things in the world—even though the reason we do it is to make things easier. But hard as it is, it’s something we all need to do sometimes. Here are a few of the things we tell ourselves that prevent us from asking for help—and how we can overcome those things and ask anyway.

“I Can Do It Myself!”

There’s no need to ask for help. What you’re doing is something you’re perfectly capable of on your own. You’ve done it before, and everything turned out fine. So why should this time be any different? Why would you need someone else’s help?

OK, granted, there are certainly some things you can manage on your own. But ask yourself two questions. First: Is this something you want to be doing, or would you rather be doing something else? And second: When you’ve done this thing for yourself in the past, how well did it turn out? Was it as well as you’d hoped?

In my day job as a content writer, I’ve written any number of blogs for any number of companies that provide services such as marketing or IT. And this is an issue I’ve addressed more times than I can count. “Why should we hire your company, when we can do our own marketing and IT in-house, for cheaper?”

And the answer I give is this: Because you’re not a marketing or IT company. You’re a law firm, or a medical supplier, or an air conditioning repair service. That’s where your focus should be. The more time and money and resources you put into marketing and IT, the less you have for what you’re actually supposed to be doing. So isn’t it better to outsource these jobs to another company that specializes in those things? Let them do what they do best, so that you can focus on what YOU do best.

Or, to put it another way: The Broadway musical Merrily We Roll Along has a song called “Franklin Shepard, Inc.” The titular Franklin Shepard is a talented composer who, after finding success, has veered away from music and towards the business side of things, becoming a producer instead. In the song, his friend tells us, “Frank does the money thing very well. But you know what? Other people do it better. And Frank does the music thing very well. And you know what? No one does it better.”

You may be able to survive by doing it on your own, but often, if you really want to thrive, you need to ask for help. When working on a project, find the things that are weighing you down, the things that are taking you away from the part of the work you’d rather be doing. And find the things that would just make the project better if someone else handled them. Then, ask for help.

“I SHOULD Be Able to Do It Myself!”

There’s something you’re struggling with. Some task you can’t quite accomplish, some problem you can’t find a solution for, something you just can’t seem to get right. You look around you. Other people never seem to have this problem. You see people working on similar projects, or dealing with similar situations, and they’re getting through it just fine. If they can do it, why can’t you? Does not being able to do it make you deficient in some way? Are you lagging behind everyone else?

It feels like asking for help would be admitting that you’re not as good as them. That you’re not as smart, not as talented, or that you’re not working as hard. Clearly the solution is just to buckle down and drive yourself harder. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, and do on your own this thing that everyone else can do on your own.

I’ll let you in on a secret: They’re not doing it on their own. They’re getting help and support from the people around them. And whatever you’re struggling with, other people are struggling with too. It’s just that struggles are a lot less visible from the outside than they are from the inside.

And those who have mastered the thing you’re struggling with and can do it with ease… They struggle with other things. In fact, there are probably things that you do that they look at and think, “Oh, they make it look so easy! Why can’t I do that?”

So go to those people who look like they know what they’re doing and ask them how. Maybe they’ll be willing to help you. Maybe they’ll be able to suggest someone else to help you. Maybe they’ll be able to provide some guidance or tips that will help you be able to do it yourself—the same tips and guidance that someone else once gave to them. Or maybe it will turn out that they’re just as clueless as you. But at least you’ll be clueless together, which is better than being clueless alone.

“I Don’t Want to Be a Burden!”

This is one of the biggest obstacles there is to asking for the help you need. People are busy with their own things. You don’t want to pile your stuff on top of theirs, or make your stress into their stress. You worry that forcing people to take time out of their lives to do things for you will make them resent you.

I’ve talked before about why this argument doesn’t hold water. Suffice it to say, you’re not forcing anyone to do anything. They always have the right to say no, and rather than worrying about other people’s stress, you need to trust them to set their own boundaries. And most of the time, people are glad to lend a hand.

But let’s say, for the sake of argument, that your project is a burden on the person you’ve asked. It does happen. Some people are bad at setting boundaries, have a hard time saying no, and end up taking on projects they don’t have the capacity for.

That’s still not a good reason for trying to do things on your own, instead of asking for help. It’s actually a good argument for asking for MORE help. Don’t just ask one person. Ask as many as you can. The more people you can get on board, the more you can spread out the burden, and the less stress there is for everyone.

And if you can get the right group together, find the right dynamic, it won’t be a burden at all! It will be a fun and rewarding experience that you can all share! (Or, at the very least, you can all gripe to each other about what a burden this project is, which helps to lessen the burden.)

“I Don’t Know Who to Ask!”

OK, you’ve resolved to bite the bullet and ask for help with whatever thing your current project is lacking or struggling with. Great! But who do you know who has the talent, the time, and the resources to provide what you need?

Sometimes it’s simple. For my projects, the thing I tend to need most is actors. But I live in L.A., where there are actors literally everywhere. Walk into any coffee shop in Hollywood and, if you hang around long enough, you’ll find enough actors to stage a full-scale production of Joseph and the Amazing, Technicolor Dreamcoat . (Caveat: Unless you are very, very charismatic, or have a lot of money, most of them probably will not sign on to such a production when it’s offered to them by a total stranger they met in a coffee shop. But they are there.)

Fortunately, I’m also part of several different local theater groups and have a number of friends I can go to when I’m casting a show. There are also plenty of friends I have with other talents, whom I can call upon if need be. Specialty makeup effects? An old timey 1940s microphone? A cello solo? I’ve got friends I can go to for all of those things, in a pinch.

But what if I need someone to help me make puppets? As I’ve mentioned in previous articles, I love working with puppets and have some really cool, elaborate puppet projects planned for the future. As I’ve also mentioned… My puppet making skills are terrible. They’re useful for certain things, but if I want to stage a puppet project with some real production value, I’m going to need help.

In fact, I staged a fairly elaborate puppet project in December, as part of the Spirit OnStage annual Christmas show, and I ran into this very issue. I planned three different songs involving puppets, all of which required characters that were beyond my own, limited talents. I knew from the beginning that I would need to ask for help. But whom would I ask? Whom did I know who could build puppets?

I started with who I did know: people with similar talents who might be able to lend a hand. My friend Ron, who is an invaluable member of Spirit OnStage, can build pretty much anything, and has furnished our shows with props, costumes, sets, and more. He didn’t necessarily have experience building puppets, but I knew that he could, if he put his mind to it.

So I asked him, and he agreed. Then I showed him what I had in mind… And it became clear it wasn’t something he could do on his own. This project would require not just puppets, but a lot of puppets. A lot of very specific, Christmas-themed puppets. Building them all from scratch was something he’d certainly be capable of, but it just wasn’t something he could do in the timeframe we had. Not while also balancing acting in the show, his duties at our church, his family responsibilities, and, oh yeah, holding down a fulltime job. To pull this off, we would need more help than that.

So how did I find whom to ask for help? I asked. I went to Facebook and posted, “Who among my friends knows how to build puppets?” It turns out, there are a fair few. One friend in particular makes, buys, and collects them. He has a whole box full of puppets of all shapes and sizes, which he loaned me for the show. Several of them were perfect as-is. Others needed only minor tweaks and (non-permanent) alterations to go from happy children puppets to happy elf puppets. And so we found ourselves with enough puppets to do all three numbers and make them look great, without having to build any of them from scratch.

And what if I hadn’t had that friend, or he hadn’t been so generous with his collection? Not only did I have other friends who were willing to help, several of my friends had recommendations for other people I could ask: their friends and people they were connected with, who had experience with this sort of thing and might be willing to lend a hand.

This is why it’s so important to be part of a community. I’ve had some good experiences putting requests for assistance up on Facebook, but I’ve also had some duds. It’s a good place to start, but it doesn’t always yield the results you’re looking for. However, if you’re part of a more specialized creative community, full of people doing similar things, then finding people to help you gets easier. And fortunately for us, we’re all part of just such a community.

Epiphany has so many different people with so many different talents, whom you can reach out to. So many people who are willing to help with whatever you’ve got going on. And if there’s not someone in the community who has or can do what you’re looking for… Chances are, there’s someone who knows who can, and can connect you. All you need to do is take that first step, by reaching out and asking.

“I Don’t Know How to Ask”

So you’ve made the decision to ask for help, and you’ve identified a person whom you think would be able to provide that help. How do you approach them? Even if it’s a friend, asking for favors isn’t easy, and it can feel like imposing, even if it’s not.

Start with a compliment. Let them know how much you admire their talents. How much you enjoy working with them—or would like to work with them. Let them know why you’re coming to them, specifically, and why they’d be good for what you have in mind. It’s not just to butter them up. It puts the favor you’re asking them in a positive light. If you approach it from an angle of, “I’m so sorry to bother you, what I’m asking is such an imposition, but maybe if it’s not too much trouble…” then you’re setting yourself up for failure.

The key, in my experience, is to try to get them as excited about what you’re doing as you are. Start with what you like and admire about them. Then tell them what you’re doing and why you’re passionate about it. Then tell them why you think they’d be passionate about it too. Let them know what you need from them, why you think they’d be a good fit, and why it’s a project worth being part of.

“What If They Say No?”

No matter how good a fit the project is, no matter how well you ask, sometimes people are going to say No. A lot of people will tell you that it’s not a big deal.

“The worst they can say is no! Just shrug it off and move on!”

But you know what? A No can hurt. A No when you were hoping for a Yes is, at minimum, disappointing. A No from someone you were really hoping to work with, can be a serious blow. And a No when you’re getting to the end of your list and not sure who else you can ask, can be devastating.

But it’s going to happen sometimes. There’s no way around it. All you can do is roll with the punches.

If it’s a particularly difficult No to hear, then don’t be afraid to take a moment to feel whatever emotions you’re feeling. Sad? Angry? Desperate? Uncertain? Let it happen. Process it. Do what you need to do.

And then regroup. This person didn’t work out, so what are your other options? Go back to the community. See if there are any leads on others who might have the time and the talents for your project. Start the process over. Find more people you can ask for help, and keep asking until someone gives you a Yes.

Also, understand that a No for now isn’t necessarily a No for all time. Sometimes people are just busy. Sometimes schedules don’t mesh. Sometimes people genuinely want to work with you, but they’ve got something else on their plate—this time.

If you pay close attention, you can generally tell the brush-off, “not interested” No’s from the genuinely disappointed, “I would if I could” No’s. If it’s the former, there’s not a lot you can do. You and your projects aren’t for everyone. But if it’s the latter… Keep them in mind. Next time you’ve got something you need help with, move their name to the top of the list. You’ve already got their interest. And asking is a lot easier the second time.

Asking for help doesn’t come easily for a lot of us. But like most things in life, getting better at it just takes practice. Look for things to ask for help with. Look for people whom you think would be willing. Big things, small things, close friends, casual acquaintances… Just keep asking. Not only does it get easier the more often you do it, but the more people you ask for help, the wider your circle becomes, and the better equipped you are to get the help you need for other things down the line.

And of course, be willing to help others as well. Look for opportunities to help your friends and people in your various circles with the things they need, even if it’s something you wouldn’t ordinarily think to do. That’s how connections are made. That’s how communities are built. And ultimately, that’s how we all get the help we need.

How creatives who hate planning can still dream big while keeping it real

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 19 Feb 2025 15:00:41 GMT

How creatives who hate planning can still dream big while keeping it real

By Suzanne Yada

Once upon a time, when I was a kid, I believed in the age-old myth of the lone genius toiling away in solitude, pulling creativity and productivity out of thin air without a soul in sight. I believed it because I wanted to be it.

But I also wanted to be a pegasus too. Sometimes, you can't get what you want.

In reality, no one is truly made to be productive alone, and this is especially true for those of us with creative, slightly rebellious brains.

But first, let's address the elephant in the room: toxic productivity. You know, the kind where someone tells you to "just stick to a routine" or "do the hardest thing first," and bam, you're supposed to magically morph into a productivity powerhouse. For many of us, this advice feels more like telling us to "just sprout wings" if we want to fly.

We don't need that advice. And we don't need to be a pegasus to fly. You know what we actually need?

Plane. Tickets.

Plane tickets are real, tangible things that make it possible for humans to fly. It does take some money, time and effort to obtain those things, but as an ADHD-AF creative, I don't need to be fed the myth that I could someday become a pegasus, when I can just do something that is within the realm of possibility instead.

I finally have come to accept, radically accept, that I am a human being who can't do absolutely everything. I have a different brain that doesn't quite fit other people's expectations. Typical productivity advice just bounces off my forehead.

This is why the term "radical self-acceptance" is one of the first things I teach in my annual workshop retreat for creatives who, ahem, "fucking hate planning." This is the magical equation:

Radical self-acceptance = Radical self-honesty + Radical self-love.

Self-honesty without self-love is just abuse.

Self-love without self-honesty is just narcissism.

We need to start here if we want to get any creative project out into the world.

Self-honesty tells me that plane tickets are more possible than becoming a pegasus. (Sometimes I genuinely need to be reminded that I am a human. A HUMAN.)

Self-love tells me that I am deserving and capable of finding the funds needed to travel anywhere I want to.

Us creatives can dream so big — we just have to be real with our own limits and expectations, as humans and as individuals.

For example: A rigid schedule works for some brains. It does not work for mine. When it comes to productivity, I thrive in frameworks that nurture spontaneity and inspiration. I thrive on novelty and community. I do not thrive on someone wagging their finger, telling me what I should do.

And so many times, I feel that stern lecture coming from, of all places, my freaking to-do list. It isn't a place I go to dive into my life's greatest work. It's a place I go if I want to feel like a failure.

There are ways to shift all that. And I firmly believe that community is the secret sauce. It's the wind beneath your creative wings, the cheese to your macaroni, the—well, you get the idea. Community is where the magic happens. It's where accountability meets camaraderie, and where the overwhelming task of getting things done becomes a shared adventure rather than a solitary climb up Mount Doom.

Imagine being surrounded by a group of like-minded creatives, all working towards their own unique projects, yet cheering each other on. This isn’t just a fantasy; it's the very essence of The Creative Spirals and our retreat March 8-9. We gather to support each other, share insights, and laugh at our collective disdain for traditional planning. It's where your brilliant ideas are met with enthusiastic "Yes, and?" instead of a head-scratching "Wait, what?"

The "Planning for Creatives who Fucking Hate Planning" retreat is a two-day escape from your daily hamster wheel routine, where you'll find clarity, a game plan, and a community of creative weirdos who’ll be your biggest cheerleaders. Whether you join us in person at Epiphany Space Hollywood, or virtually from the comfort of your own home, you'll dive into creative exercises that get you clear on your year, all while embracing a new mindset around planning.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “What if planning is just a waste of time?” Fear not, my creatively-chaotic friend. This retreat isn’t about turning you into a planning robot. Instead, we focus on tools and systems that work with your brain, not against it. We embrace playful planning techniques and flexible frameworks that help you say yes to what ignites your soul and no to what doesn't serve your vision for yourself.

Plus, there’s the bonus of accountabilibuddies! These buddies are your new creative soulmates who keep you on track, hold you accountable (without the guilt trip), and celebrate every tiny victory along the way. With such a support system, you’ll find yourself actually doing the thing instead of just dreaming about it.

And let's not forget the practical perks. Joining us in person? We’ve got you covered with lunch, snacks, coffee and tea, and even hands-on materials like a daily paper planner if you need one. Prefer to join virtually? We'll provide digital options, so all you need is yourself and something to take notes on. No matter how you attend, you’ll have access to a recorded replay, so you can revisit the inspiration anytime.

So, if you’re tired of trying to go it alone, if you yearn for a community that understands your creative quirks, and if you want to make meaningful progress on those big, beautiful projects that have been simmering on the back burner, then this retreat is your ticket to creative freedom.

Join us on March 8-9 in Los Angeles or online. It’s time to put an end to the myth of the lone genius and embrace the vibrant, supportive community that The Creative Spirals offers together with Epiphany Space. We’ll plan like we’ve never planned before—fun, flexible, and full of heart. Who knew planning could be this liberating?

Epiphany Space members: check the Mighty Networks for a 20% off discount code! https://cart.yadacreative.com/dttny-2025/

5 (Free) Ways To Support Your Artist Friend

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 12 Feb 2025 05:26:23 GMT

5 (Free) Ways To Support Your Artist Friend

By Cortney Matz

Don’t you love your artist friend?

They’re so imaginative! They’re so brilliant! They’re SO busy. And chances are – so are you .

How can we help each other WHILE keeping up with our own projects?

Consider these 5 ways to show up for the creatives you love, even while juggling life.

0. Buy Their Thing

(This is #0 on the list because it is not free – but if you can afford it, buy it! Why not?)

1. The Free Version of Buying Their Thing

Do you genuinely want to participate in your friend’s event or own their product, but it’s just a cash flow issue? If money is the obstacle, why not volunteer your time?

Every live performer needs photos and videos of their live performances
Every event host needs help setting up, running things, and engaging with guests
Every book/film/album needs reviews

It’s not always easy for artists to ask friends to help with these things, and you taking the initiative to offer can be a real, practical encouragement.

2. Ask How It’s Going or How It Went

This is especially valuable in the instance that you don’t actually WANT to go to their thing or can’t spare the time to volunteer.

If the project itself just doesn’t appeal to you, you might ask questions like: “What excites you about this project? What gave you the idea? Is it coming together the way you hoped?”

And then listen to their answers.

But as my friend, it’s nice to know that you care about me and my life – even if my latest *murder mystery musical is just not your cup of tea.

3. Tell Someone

You don't have to be a major social influencer to pass the word.

Take a moment to scroll through the contacts in your phone – do you know someone who loves interior design or who teaches art? Why not tell them about your friend's gallery show?

4. Praise Your Friend in Public

Is your friend a genius writer? A musical theater whiz? An overall kind and generous person?

These are all great things to brag about as a creative wing-person. Next time you see your friend with other people, let them know what a fantastic human is in their midst.

Variations of this:

Call out an admirable trait on your friend’s Facebook Reviews page (best to avoid referring to them as your friend for the sake of professional credibility… instead use their full name and keep your comments objective)
Nominate them for an award (someone submitted my name for America’s Got Talent last year and it made my day)

5. Likes and Comments

Social media is still the way a lot of indie artists share their creative journey, and if you typically use it for scrolling I want to propose a tiny little game:

For every fifth post you scroll, ask yourself: was this made by a person that I know, like, and respect?
Is this a post about their art – the creative overflow of their very being?

If no, scroll along to your heart’s delight.

If yes, go ahead and like it. Likes help increase the algorithmic possibility that anyone else might have a chance to actually see this and respond to it.

Bonus for Friends of Musicians:

(You probably are already adding their songs to your playlists, so keep doing that.)

Phew! Thank you for reading all the way down here.

I’m curious, how do these ideas strike you? Do you feel inspired to try one? Have you experienced someone else doing this for you?

Shoot me a note or a DM: @cortneymatz on IG or cm@cortneymatz.com by email.

See if it doesn’t make you feel great.

And to my fellow artists, if someone takes the time to do one of these for you, please recognize the thought and effort that went into it and give them a heartfelt thank you.

We all need each other. It’s a simple truth of life. Any gesture of support is a GIFT.

For more thoughts on being supportive of your artist friends (and your artist SELF), please enjoy this episode of my musical podcast, Adventurous Spirits: being supportive .

More about my own creative endeavors:

SoMysterio.us games and immersive experiences
Music and musings on creativity

*Not being facetious, this is a real thing I did last summer.

The Friends We Made Along the Way

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 05 Feb 2025 18:27:44 GMT

The Friends We Made Along the Way

By Steven W. Alloway

“Maybe the real treasure was the friends we made along the way!” This rather clichéd sentiment is used more often as the punchline of a joke than it is as a sincere statement. I’m not even sure where the quote originally came from. I’m also not sure I’ve ever heard it used in a context that wasn’t meant to be at least somewhat sarcastic. Spoken sincerely, it seems a bit saccharine.

I’ve made my fair share of jokes along those lines too. (“Maybe the real super-villain team was the fiends we made along the way!”) But here’s the thing: Underneath the saccharine and the sarcasm, it’s actually a pretty powerful statement—and one that’s essential to who I am and what I do.

Theater in 50 Hours

A week and a half ago, I participated in the 50-Hour Drive-By Theatre Festival at Zombie Joe’s Underground. If you’re not familiar with it, a group of writers, actors, and directors get together to mount four 10-15 minute plays, in the space of just over two days. It’s a wild and chaotic adventure, to say the least.

This was my 10th year participating, and in that time I’ve had a wide range of experiences, ranging from a total blast to absolutely miserable. Furthermore, since teams are assigned completely at random, it’s virtually impossible to know what kind of experience you’re going to have until you’re thrown into the thick of it.

You hope, of course, for a great writer to write you a stellar script, and an experienced director who’s done this before and knows how to handle things under pressure. But I realized something this year. Neither of those things matters nearly as much as you think they’re going to.

I’ve gotten great scripts and talented directors and still ended up with a bad experience. And I’ve gotten mediocre scripts and first-time directors and still had a blast. When it comes down to it, the key is this: how well do you get along with the people you’re going to be spending the next two days with?

Once you’re handed your script, those people—the other actors and your director—will be your constant companions until the curtain goes up on your performance. You rehearse late into the night and arrive bright and early the next day. You run lines, you figure out blocking, and you do your best to remember all of it. Every one of you runs a gamut of emotions in that time, from elation to despair to sheer panic, as the hours continue to tick by. And you carry one another through a truly Herculean endeavor that would be impossible on your own.

If you can manage to bond with each other while you do that, then it will be an experience like nothing else in the world. But if you clash with each other, antagonize each other, or give each other problems, then it can end up being one of the worst creative experiences of your life.

I was nervous this year about what kind of experience I was going to have. The last couple of years have been pretty rough. And this year, my castmates were four people I barely knew and had never worked with before. But then once we got started…it just clicked. We helped each other, we played off of each other, and together, we made a pretty decent play and had a pretty great time in the process.

It was honestly one of the best 50-Hour Drive-By experiences I’ve had in a long time. And in my opinion, the quality of the play itself ended up being much better, simply by virtue of the fact that our cast all got along so well.

Where You Are and Who You’re With

I’m a firm believer that, in most areas of life, what you do doesn’t matter nearly so much as who you’re with. I’ve gone to fairs and festivals and found myself watching the clock, wondering when it would be time to go home, simply because the group I went with wasn’t really one that I meshed with. Or because I had no group at all, but was there by myself, wondering what the point was of being there at all without people to share it with.

On the other hand, I’ve had the time of my life going to the grocery store or the bank with friends I care about and whose company I enjoy. Then later on, someone asks, “So, how was your day?” and I’ll respond with, “It was awesome! I bought potatoes and mozzarella cheese at Trader Joe’s!” And I probably sound unhinged, but those simple errands were the highlight of my day. Not because of the potatoes OR the mozzarella cheese, but because of the friends who came along for the ride.

(Although in fairness, I do tend to get excited about both potatoes and mozzarella cheese, even when I’m shopping alone. Especially if they’re on sale.)

Nothing But the Best?

The same thing is true in creative endeavors. When I was in college, I took a theater directing class. For our final project, we collaborated with the Acting 1 class to do a series of scenes. Their class auditioned for our class, and then we had a meeting to determine which directors would get to direct which actors. Some of the Acting 1 students were only just starting out, while others were already among the most respected members of our theater department, so it seemed inevitable that there would be some fighting about the choices.

To cut the tension, I joked, “It’s OK, I’ll just take whoever’s at the bottom of the barrel.”

Our professor took offense at this—rather more than I expected, in fact. “No!” he told me emphatically. “You always want to have the best people possible in any project!”

I’ve thought about that statement ever since, particularly whenever I cast a show. And I don’t think he was right. I’ve cast some really talented people in my shows. I’ve made short films with very talented and capable people working behind the scenes. But how talented they are doesn’t make a bit of difference if they don’t work well with the rest of the group.

Talent Vs. Connection

I’ve seen very talented people with massive egos decide they’d rather do their own thing than listen to the director—or who are more focused on doing what will make them look good than they are on collaborating with the rest of the cast. I’ve seen people decide they were “too good” for the group or project they were part of and just start phoning it in, instead of putting in real effort.

And I’ve seen people who were inexperienced or unsure of themselves work hard and do an amazing job. I’ve seen them find a rapport with other members of the group that ended up being palpable in their performances. Those connections are what create magic onstage, and they’re a big part of why I do theater in the first place. If you ask me which I’d rather have, one ultra-talented person or a cast gets along with each other, plays well with each other and off of each other, and is able to create that magic, I’ll take the latter, every time, even if they’re not “the best” by traditional standards.

I’m lucky in that I have a group that tends to self-select for that dynamic. My theater troupe, Spirit OnStage, is small. We don’t have a lot of people or a lot of resources. We don’t have very big audiences. And we also tend not to take ourselves too seriously. The people with big egos who are hard to work with don’t find their way to us very often. Sometimes one will come along for a single show, and then vanish into the night.

The ones who stick around are the ones who “click.” The ones who are OK with a script that evolves over time due to the input (and often adlibs) of the cast, and the ones who will join in when we inevitably start trading song lyrics and obscure references or talking about superheroes, during rehearsal.

Talent AND Connection

Fortunately, those people who stick around Spirit OnStage are also extremely talented. Make no mistake about that. But in addition to a lot of talent, we also have a lot of fun. And that’s the key ingredient. That’s what makes what we do special.

That’s the dynamic I prefer as an audience member, too. Sure, I enjoy Big and Important Works of Art™, from the plays they give you to study in theater class to the latest, hyper-intense Oscar fodder… But what I really like to see is works where everyone involved is clearly having a great time. It could be a play, a film, a concert, an art installation at a museum, or whatever else. But when the people who made it really enjoyed making it, that enjoyment becomes palpable. And their enjoyment becomes your enjoyment.

That’s the kind of art I like to consume, and it’s the kind of art that I strive to make. The kind of art where I can get my friends together and have fun. Work hard, use our talents, create amazing things, but have fun. And then, once it’s ready, bring the audience into the fun as well. That’s how great art is made, and it’s how great friendships are forged. And if that’s not real treasure, then I don’t know what is.

Girls & Boys - February 2025 Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 05 Feb 2025 18:08:04 GMT

Check out our February 2025

Mix tape to SPARK your creativity!

Songs that celebrate and play with the idea of "Girls & Boys"—with plenty of irresistible hooks along the way.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Together We Thrive

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 22 Jan 2025 02:59:28 GMT

Together We Thrive

By Shelby Bond

“I just feel so awkward. What do I even say?”

So, I offered this. “Before the end of the night just walk up to one person and be honest as you say, ‘Hi, I’m Derek, and I’m awkward at parties.’”

10 YEARS LATER THEY ARE STILL FRIENDS!

We need connection. We need to be pushed when we might give up on ourselves. So, half of the lesson from this is—put yourself out there.

The other half is deeper.

It’s the fact that being open, letting down our walls, and being honest about who we are and how we feel doesn’t scare people away-- it draws them to us.

You see—THAT WHICH IS MOST PERSONAL IS MOST UNIVERSAL.

I’d focus. And it sucked. Even though the topic interested me tremendously.

That makes no sense! But it worked.

With others you get seen, your presence is felt as you feel them.

Together we thrive. There is a kind of magic that happens when we aren’t alone.

Friends to Get Us Through the New Year

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 09 Jan 2025 19:08:07 GMT

Friends to Get Us Through the New Year

By Steven W. Alloway

Dreaming Big?

A little over a year ago, I wrote a Spark article called “Dreaming Big in the New Year.” It was Becky’s idea, part of a series, which I believe several other people contributed to as well. It was all about the projects we were planning for 2024, the challenges we wanted to take on, and the grand things we were hoping to accomplish. I outlined three or four different things that I had on my agenda and was really excited about.

Just recently, I pulled up that article again and reread it. And do you know how many of those things I actually managed to accomplish in 2024?

Zero. Not a single one.

Don’t get me wrong, I did plenty of other things last year. I had a number of cool adventures and brought several awesome projects to life. But none of them were the things that had been on my list. None of them were the goals that I had been so excited about a year previously.

So what happened? Well, there were several factors, but the main one was just that I didn’t have the resources I needed to do them justice. I talked about that a little bit in my previous article: opting to forgo my epic puppet project for the time being, because I’d rather take the time and do it right than rush to put up something mediocre just to meet an arbitrary deadline. This was true not only of my puppet project, The Pound-a-Line Poet but also of a fairytale script called The Six Servants , which I have been working on and revising for years in order to get it stage ready, only to realize that it’s way too complicated for any of the stages I have access to.

In both cases, I stand by my decision to hold off. I’d rather wait until I have the resources. But at the same time, continuing to wait isn’t going to yield me any more resources. If I just keep saying, “I’m not ready,” then I’ll never be ready. So what do I have to do to get those resources that I need, to make my pet projects a reality? Where do I find what I need?

Here’s the thing: I actually probably DO have the resources I need to put these projects in motion. I’m not currently in possession of them. But what I am in possession of is a lot of really cool, talented, and creative friends. And they are the most valuable resource I—or any of us—have.

Going It Alone

I’m not a big fan of asking others for help. In fact, in my experience, it’s a thing most people don’t care for. I’m always worried that I’m imposing on them. I’ve got my problems that I’m dealing with, but at the same time, they’ve got their problems that they’re dealing with. They’re busy with their own lives. How impudent am I to ask them to deal with my stuff on top of their own?

Plus, society can make us feel like we should be able to handle everything solo. “Hustle culture” tells us that if we’re not working 24/7 to make our dreams come true, then they never will, and we’ll have nobody to blame but ourselves. And if there are things we can’t do, then we’re somehow deficient, or not worthy. We don’t have what it takes.

That is, to quote Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy , a load of dingo’s kidneys. No matter what it is you do, nobody can do it alone. We need each other. We rely on each other. This has been a recurring theme throughout almost every Spark article I’ve written, but it still bears repeating: the only way any of us is getting through this life is together.

Not only that but helping each other and getting help from each other makes what we do better. Even if you can, technically, “go it alone,” on whatever you’re working on, it doesn’t mean you should. Adding different talents, and different perspectives into the mix can add depth to the project and help take it to the next level. Plus, fewer things for each person to worry about means everyone can better focus on the thing they’re doing and ultimately do it better.

Working Together in Art and in Life

This applies to more than just artistic projects, too. Just about every aspect of our lives is made better with help from friends. 2024 was a difficult year for a lot of us, filled with some major obstacles and some major losses. 2023 was, too. Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone disagreeing when I say that every year since 2020 has been way more difficult, way more full of hardships and challenges than any of us has been prepared for. Personally, I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last few years without a support system of friends who have my back.

Many of those friends come from Epiphany Space, as well as my church friends, my theater friends, and others. They’ve been there when I needed them most and helped me through some difficult times and challenging situations.

Sometimes that help has come in the form of giving me or helping me to get some concrete thing that I need. Other times it’s helpful advice. A lot of the time, it’s just somebody to talk to, or who will provide a much-needed distraction when things are overwhelming. There are all different things that we need and all different ways to help the people we care about, and they’re all important and necessary for getting through this life.

Getting Help

Even knowing all of that, it can still be difficult to ask for help when we need it. Much as I talk about how we all need to stick together and help one another, I still struggle with approaching others with the things that I need. However, while it’s true that I don’t like asking for help, it’s also true that I love providing help when I can. If someone I care about needs something, nothing gives me more pleasure than being able to give it to them or help them to get it. They feel good, I feel good… Everybody wins.

Except that not only do most people not like asking for help, a lot of people also don’t like accepting help. They don’t want to impose. So when I say, “Can I do anything to help?” the most common answer is, “No, it’s OK. I’m good.” And then they keep struggling to go it alone. It can be frustrating, for them and for me.

And I get it. I tend to give the same response, whenever someone offers help to me. They’re probably just being nice. Or they may think they want to help now, but once they actually start to do what I’ve asked them to do, they’ll resent it, and me. What if I ask too much, or ask them too often, and end up overstepping my bounds? I’d better save the request for when I really, REALLY need it.

Another Possibility

Consider this, though: What if you’re not imposing? What if they do mean it? What if someone has the means to give you what you need, and they genuinely want to do it? What if helping one another, rather than making us resentful, actually allows us to bond with one another and bring us closer together?

Moreover, what if helping you actually helps them too? What if the person you ask to be part of your project has been looking for a project to be part of? What if you’re not demanding someone’s time and talents of them for free, but giving them an opportunity to work on something they love and hone their craft? Or what if, somewhere down the line, they need something that you can provide, but they never would have thought to ask before you made that connection?

If someone offers to help you, it means they genuinely want to help—whether it’s something big or small, they’re willing to take on a task that will lessen the load. If you ask them and they don’t want to help you, they can always say no. And yes, often people will say no. But in my experience, once you do actually ask, they’ll say yes more often than you think. If they say no, you can always ask somebody else.

Also keep in mind, that if they do say yes, and especially if they’re the ones offering, it means that they genuinely want to help. If helping somehow causes them to resent you, that’s on them. (Also, in general, helping people tends to make us like them more, not less, so unless you’re deliberately taking advantage of them or abusing their goodwill, the chances of them harboring resentment are very low.)

So here’s a challenge for you. For all of us. Let’s make 2025 the year that we don’t “go it alone.” Let’s make it the year that we all work together. The year we all ask each other for help and provide each other with help. The year that we nurture our relationships, our connections, and our communities and realize that we’re stronger together than we are by ourselves. And then let’s continue doing that, more and more, every year after that. Because the more we stick together, the more we help each other, the more we rely on each other… The better things will be for all of us.

Together We Thrive - January 2025 Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 01 Jan 2025 22:38:48 GMT

Check out our January 2025 Mixtape to SPARK your creativity!

Songs about community, friendship, thriving and growth.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Epiphany’s Legacy of Creativity, or, Why You Should Give Us Your Money

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 18 Dec 2024 16:08:22 GMT

The Spark: Epiphany’s Legacy of Creativity, or, Why You Should Give Us Your Money

By Steven W. Alloway

If I were to win the lottery… I would be very surprised because I’ve never bought a ticket. But assuming I were to come into a large, lottery-level sum of money in some other way, there are several organizations and institutions I would support.

My church would get enough to pay a full-time pastor. Cal Lutheran University, where I went to college, would find themselves endowed with a brand new theater (my professors when I was there frequently complained that major donors always endow the sports facilities and never the theater department). Spirit OnStage would have enough for all the epic projects I’ve been planning for years. And of course, Epiphany Space would get… Honestly, anything they wanted, and a fair bit more besides.

How Epiphany Space Has Shaped My Creative Legacy

The theme this quarter has been A Legacy of Creativity, and I’ve written three articles about my own. But these last few years, my creative legacy has been influenced and supported by Epiphany Space in so many different ways, and I’d like to take some time to talk about that.

I first came to Epiphany in 2017. I attended a couple of events, met a lot of really cool people. Then at the end of the year, Spirit OnStage was looking for a place to perform our annual Christmas show. We used to have a permanent venue, at the church where I grew up, but after I stopped attending there, we eventually had to stop performing there, too. So for a couple of years, we struggled to find a place to do the show, and in 2016, we ended up paying a small theater a massive amount of rent and losing a lot of money in the process.

So in 2017, as we faced that possibility again, I said to my mother, “Hey, why not do it at Epiphany Space?” To which she probably responded, “What’s that?” because she hadn’t been there yet. But I introduced her to the people and the space, and Hartsock House became our performance space for Christmas 2017. Then again for Christmas 2018 and 2019. In 2018, we also did a bigger, more elaborate show in the courtyard, during the summer.

They still charged us rent, of course, but it was much less than we would have had to pay elsewhere—and it came with a built-in community to support us and help us out with whatever we needed. Becky even washed our dishes a couple of times, in spite of the sign above the sink that said, “Dishwashing Service Is Not Provided!”

The Great Memorial Day Bake Off

Then in 2018, I had another project I wanted to do. I’d been watching a special celebrity episode of the Great British Bake Off on YouTube, and the show concluded with an announcement: “Visit this website to send away for a kit, to host your own charity Bake Off and raise money for Stand Up to Cancer.” An opportunity like that was too good to pass up. I got the kit, I recruited some bakers, and I started planning my very own Bake Off event. It had a Signature Challenge (cookies), a Technical Challenge (bread), and a Showstopper Challenge (cheesecake). What it didn’t have was a venue.

To be honest, I didn’t even think of holding the Bake Off event at Epiphany. But when I mentioned to Cortney that I wasn’t sure where we were going to be yet, she said, “Why not do it at Epiphany, and combine it with my open mic that’s the same day, in order to bring in more people?”

Then Melissa and Hans volunteered to be our judges. (Hans even broke out his Paul Hollywood accent for the occasion.) Cortney and Ben were two of our bakers. And tons of Epiphany people showed up to support. We held the event on Memorial Day, and it was a tremendous success. By selling our contestants’ cookies and breads and cheesecakes in a bake sale, we raised a couple of hundred dollars for cancer research.

The next year we did it again, with Hans and Cortney as our judges and Shelby donating a delicious vegan cake to be part of the bake sale. The event was smaller that year, but we still ended up raising another couple of hundred dollars.

Would the Great Memorial Day Bake Off have happened without Epiphany Space? I’m sure I would have found a way. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as successful, had nearly as much support, or raised nearly as much money. And it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun, either.

A Community in Transition

Then came the Pandemic. A show that Spirit OnStage was planning to perform at Epiphany had to be postponed indefinitely. Events weren’t happening. In person meetings weren’t happening. And to top it all off, right during that same time, Epiphany Space had to move out of its location. Not to mention Melissa moving to Georgia. Was this the end of Epiphany Space?

Of course not. Through all the difficulties, all the bumps in the road, we continued to be a community, and we continued to carry on that legacy of creativity. There were events on Zoom. In 2021, when things finally started opening up again, there was regular co-working in a coffee shop up the street.

Then we finally moved into our new location, right across the street from the old one. It was smaller. No more two buildings and a courtyard. But there was still so much we could do with it. Parties, workshops, games, dinners… Last year, Spirit OnStage even did a show there.

And of course, there’s the Georgia branch of Epiphany now, too. We’re two separate communities, but we’re also one big community, encompassing both locations and plenty of other places all around the country, as those who have moved away over the years continue to keep in touch. We meet with one another, talk to one another, collaborate with one another, and support one another, through Zoom events, hybrid events, and Mighty Networks.

The Legacy of Support

The legacy of Epiphany goes so much further than just an event/co-working space. The real legacy is the community of artists that they bring together and the ongoing fountain of support that they provide to that community. All the people I’ve mentioned in this article, and many others, are part of Epiphany’s creative legacy, and Epiphany is part of theirs.

And of course, Epiphany has been an invaluable part of my creative legacy as well, in more ways than I can count. They’ve supported me when I needed it most. A couple of years ago, I happened to mention, while talking to some Epiphany people, that most of the work that I do is ghostwriting. Assembling a portfolio can be difficult because a lot of my work doesn’t have my name on it. Not long after that, I got an e-mail from Becky, asking me if I wanted to help out with a new Epiphany newsletter she was putting together, wherein I would interview other members of the Epiphany community. It wasn’t much, she told me, but it was something that I could put my name on. And so The Spark was born.

Then, late last year or early this year (or more likely both, along with plenty of times before and since), I was complaining about some clients who weren’t paying me. I’d done a lot of work and was owed a lot of money, but it just wasn’t coming in, and I was struggling.

Not long after that, I got an e-mail from Melissa. Would I be interested in expanding my involvement in The Spark by writing a few articles and other things—and getting paid for it? The result is what you’re reading now. Not only has it been a great creative outlet that I’ve had a lot of fun with over the past year, that little extra from Epiphany has saved me multiple times when other money just wasn’t coming in.

The Legacy of Community

In previous articles, I’ve talked about the time I spent up in Paso Robles this summer. Both last year and this year, it was an amazing experience that not only helped refresh me mentally and emotionally but also allowed me to expand my creative horizons in everything from writing to cooking to photography.

The one drawback is that it can be lonely up there. Most days, the only ones around to talk to are the corgis. Don’t get me wrong, I love those corgis so much… But they don’t speak English, and I, unfortunately, don’t speak Dog, so our conversations tend to be a little one-sided, no matter who’s doing the talking.

But do you know what I have during my time away? I have Epiphany Space. From Idea Machine to Project Accelerator to two different writing groups, and more, there are Zoom-based events throughout the month that let me connect and converse with my friends and keep me grounded.

I’m far from the only one who has stories like this, either. Just about anyone who’s been here for any length of time, when you ask them to talk about how they got involved with Epiphany, will have stories about events they’ve done, people they’ve collaborated with, and more. I’ve heard so many stories that start with, “I happened to mention a cool thing I wanted to do, and the next thing I knew, I was hosting it at Epiphany.” If you’re part of Epiphany Space, I’m sure you have at least one or two stories of your own about events you’ve attended, people you’ve connected with, and creative things you’ve done, that wouldn’t have happened without Epiphany Space.

There are so many projects that never would have come to be without this community. There are so many ideas I’ve seen the Epiphany community nurture into everything from songs to games to shows to workshops, to a host of other projects. If you hang around long enough, and you pay attention, you can hear people go from “So I was thinking of doing this thing” to “I’m doing this thing!” to “Guess what! I did this thing!” over the course of weeks, months, and even years. Seeing that evolution always brings me joy and makes me feel like I’m part of that success—even if it’s just a small part.

This has been a difficult year for a lot of us. I know it has been for me. But throughout the difficult times, when I’ve needed something or someone, Epiphany Space and its members have been there for me. And they’ve been there through the good times too, to support me, to cheer me on. The support I’ve gotten from them over the past seven years, and throughout this year in particular, has meant more to me than I can express. I know many of you feel the same way. So now, it’s time for us to support them, too.

Support Your Local Creative Community

We’re currently in the middle of our end-of-year fundraiser. Epiphany Space wants to raise $15,000. I’m sure Melissa or Becky or someone else who knows the ins and outs could explain much better than I exactly what it’s used for. What I do know is that everything costs money, from bills to rent to the Trader Joe’s snacks on the table when you come in for an event, and probably a hundred other little things from day to day.

If I had that kind of money to spare, I would give it to Epiphany Space in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, as has been a recurring theme in several of my Spark articles (including this one), I seem to be constantly owed money, but never quite in possession of it.

Money is tight for a lot of us right now. But if you do have a little extra right now, and Epiphany Space has helped you on your creative journey this year, then I urge you to consider donating a few dollars—whatever is comfortable for you. A couple of bucks might not seem like much, but a couple of bucks from me, a couple of bucks from you, and eventually it adds up. Every bit helps, and a little can go a long way.

So this holiday season, I urge you to join me in supporting Epiphany Space’s Legacy of Creativity. And then in the coming year, Epiphany Space can continue to support each of us in ours.

A Legacy of Creativity | Part 3: Future

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 11 Dec 2024 18:15:00 GMT

A Legacy of Creativity | Part 3: Future
By Steven W. Alloway

Robots and Poets

Last year, I went looking for evidence of a robot that probably doesn't exist. I'd found a newspaper article from the 1930s, that mixed fact and fiction indiscriminately, and I wanted to sort out which was which for myself. The article made mention of a robot in England called The Televisor. So I did a search of British newspapers from the 1930s for the words "Televisor" and "robot."

I didn't find any mention of such a robot anywhere. What I did find was something in the children’s section of the Nottingham Evening Post in December of 1932: a brief story, part three of a series, which included something called “the Magic Televisor,” and a group of gizmos known as “Anthony Rowley’s Robots.”

I ended up digging up and reading all five parts of this very weird and silly story and fell immediately in love with it. Over the next few months, I adapted it into a play, which I have plans to perform with puppets, once I have the resources to do it justice. The story was called The Pound-a-Line Poet , and if we’ve hung out for any length of time over the last year and a half, you’ve probably heard me talk about it.

What Makes a Legacy?

“But Steve,” you wonder aloud, “What does a children’s story from 90 years ago have to do with your creative legacy for the future?”

Here’s the thing: Since discovering it, I’ve done extensive searches across Google, Newspapers.com, and more, and as far as I can tell, the only place that story was ever printed was the Nottingham Evening Post, over the course of those 5 days in 1932. I have no idea who wrote it, as there was no author listed, but I think it’s safe to say that they, the people who published it, and most of the people who read it when it first came out, are all long gone.

But I discovered this story over 90 years later, and it had an impact on me. I connected with it across a chasm of nearly a century, and it inspired me to want to carry the story on, to tell it in my own way and spread it to the people around me.

That’s the kind of creative legacy I want to leave for the future. I don’t particularly want to be famous. Sometimes there are aspects of fame that I think would be cool. It would be nice to win an Oscar or an Emmy (or the coveted EGOT), or be interviewed on a late-night talk show.

But on the whole, fame just sounds exhausting. Being followed everywhere by a slew of photographers trying to make a profit off of my private life? Having a random comment spoken in haste and taken out of context be published all over the Internet, turned into memes and think pieces? Being invited on Hot Ones and having to admit that I’m a total wimp when it comes to spicy food? No, thank you.

A Different Kind of Legacy

No, when it comes down to it, the legacy I want isn’t about fame. What I want is this: Twenty, fifty, a hundred years from now, I want someone who doesn’t know me, who has never heard my name, to experience my creative work and connect with it. I want someone to read a script that I wrote and decide to mount a stage production. I want someone to come across a story of mine in an anthology and be inspired to turn it into a film. (Side note: I actually have a short story available in a brand new, just-released anthology . You can’t have the film rights, but if you wanted to buy and read it, it would make me very happy.)

I want to build the plot that they can’t get out of their head, that character that they see themselves in, that story which, for years afterward, they find themselves thinking about every now and then, and are inspired to come back and read or watch again.

I want someone to send my creative work to their circle of friends and say, “You have to check this out! It’s awesome!” And then for those friends to give that person weird looks and say, “Umm, sure, OK.” Except for those one or two friends who get it, who also connect with it… And then they bond over it and turn a random line in my work into an inside joke that they share between them for years afterward.

Maybe they even share the work with their kids. Or maybe their kids just grow up hearing the inside joke often enough that they start using it themselves, even though they have no idea what it means. Either way, it becomes something that they connect with. And when they connect with it, they’ll share it, pass it on, and continue the legacy that came from my work.

Putting It Out There

So how do I go about building that kind of legacy? A lot of it seems to rely on random chance: create something and hope that it lasts, in one form or another. Hope that someone a century from now is still able to find it, and if they do, hope that it’s something they think is worth remembering, worth sharing, and worth reviving. How do you do something like that? I’m not sure. But there’s one thing I do know: it starts with creating things and putting them out there.

That’s how any creative legacy is built. Whatever your goals are for your art, whether it’s awards, applause, money, fame, or something more abstract, like spreading joy, instigating hope, inspiring thought on a particular subject… It all starts with making a thing. And continues with releasing that thing to the public. Two of the most terrifying things a human being can do—and two of the most rewarding.

Half-Baked

As a kid, you couldn’t stop me from making things and putting them out there. I was constantly writing new stories, scripts, etc., and talking about them to anyone who would listen. I talked in my last article about how I wrote and directed a full-length play when I was 13/14, and directed one of Shakespeare’s most difficult plays when I was 17/18 because it never occurred to me that I couldn’t.

This year, on the other hand, I had two different major projects I wanted to produce, and I ended up not doing either of them. One of them was The Pound-a-Line Poet . I spent months working on the script, and the day I finished it, I took one look at it and said, “That’s not happening this year.” The script was just too elaborate, too complicated, to do it justice.

When I was a kid, I would have done it anyway. As a teenager, I would have started casting The Pound-a-Line Poet before I even finished the script, signed up for performance dates on the calendar, created flyers, and handed them out to everyone I knew. I then would have started rehearsing with only half a cast and no idea how or where to get the puppets I needed. The show no doubt would have gotten postponed at least twice before finally going up in a greatly scaled-down form, with several cast members putting socks on their hands and at least two people who’d been in the cast less than a week. Still, it would have gone up. Of that, I’m certain. One way or another, we would have performed that play.

But what kind of legacy would it have been? What would I think about that script, that performance, looking back on it as my present self, two decades later? When I think about the plays I did do back then, I’m proud of the accomplishment. I’m not as proud of the actual work. I’m glad I did them, but I wish I had had more knowledge and experience, rather than simply rushing into a half-baked idea that I was nowhere near ready for.

Of course, rushing into half-baked ideas that you’re nowhere near ready for is one of the best ways to gain knowledge and experience. I’m a much better writer and director now than I was then, and one of the reasons for that is because I learned from the mistakes I made in those and other projects. If I hadn’t done them, or if I’d given up halfway through because I wasn’t ready, then I wouldn’t have been able to grow and improve. They’re part of the creative legacy that I’ve built, which means, even if no one ever mentions either of those projects again, they’re also part of the creative legacy I’ll leave for the future.

So what about The Pound-a-Line Poet? Should I have pushed it into production despite not having the resources, and found a way to make it happen regardless? No. Stepping away instead of pushing forward was the right decision. It’s a project that means a lot to me, and if I want to do justice to it, if I want it to have a lasting legacy, then mounting it is going to take a lot of time, a lot of hard work, a lot of resources, and a lot of help.

So rather than rushing into a half-baked script, I’m taking the time to figure out and put together the resources that I need, so that next year, it can be something truly spectacular. Something that, 90 years from now, someone else finds the script for and says, “This is wild! Let’s turn it into a fully immersive Holodeck experience! With puppets!”

In the meantime, though… Who wants to rush into some other half-baked ideas with me? Those are part of the creative legacy too… And they’re a lot of fun.

Popsicles: Pop Hits to Brighten Your Day

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 11 Dec 2024 02:59:01 GMT

Check out our December Mixtape to SPARK your creativity!

Pop hits to brighten your day!

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Havilah Giannetta | Writer

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Fri, 06 Dec 2024 02:26:12 GMT

Havilah Giannetta | Writer

Havilah Giannetta | Writer
January 18, 1985 - November 10, 2024

Sharing a genuine community with fellow artists is exhilarating and inspiring. The creative energy, encouragement, and relationships make their imprint on both the people and the art created. Magic happens. On the flip side, when a vibrant life from the community is lost, grief is felt deeply.

Sadly, Epiphany Space’s community experienced one of those deep losses this past month with the tragic death of our dear creative sister, Havilah Giannetta.

Havilah became a part of the Epiphany family in 2014 and one of Epiphany Space’s first Artists in Residence in 2017, along with Dr. Lauretta Coumarbatch. During her residency, Havilah wrote the majority of the first draft of her debut memoir, The Reclamation of Havilah. Havilah dreamed of returning to Epiphany Space in Los Angeles, reading excerpts from her published memoir.

Havilah was an incredible woman who was true to herself and loved others deeply. Her vibrant light and passion filled the rooms she entered. Her laugh, her smile, and cheeky humor echo in our minds as we remember her. Havilah was always ready to speak truthful, loving words of encouragement and see the best in us. She knew how to live in community well.

Havilah’s life marked me and my family. Our lives intertwined on so many levels, even after she moved from Los Angeles, there were always updates about her creative pursuits and life adventures. My inbox would greet me with dreams and visions she had of me and Epiphany Space, many of these full of timely insight.

Our deep grief at her loss is a sign of how deeply we were loved and how deeply we loved back. Havilah lived a genuine, authentic life, and her life challenges us to be present in each day, live authentically, and love well. Our lives are forever beautifully marked by Havilah.

Melissa Gibson Smith

Havilah was a soul sister. After she left L.A. and moved to NYC, she and I always met up in my hometown of Manhattan. We'd have brunch, coffee, and dinner, all over the city. We'd go for walks, text, and call each other appraising each other of our collective efforts to improve our lives. She would encourage me, help me see Spirit's imprint on my journey, pray for me, and ask me tough questions. Havilah always challenged me, for as naturally driven as I am, she never stopped expecting miracles for me. Nothing about what I desired shocked her. We held space for each other's grief, reveled in the mystery of the divine, and held each other accountable for co-creating magic.

She left an indelible legacy behind that I am honored to cherish. Havilah was indeed a sister to me. Her loss has already emboldened me to take major risks and be a level of brave that I've never been before. Because life is far too fragile and short to stand on the sidelines, I'll miss you forever, my dear friend and I hope to make you proud of me soon. You were the best of the real ones.

Rice Omary

If you spent any time near Epiphany Space between 2015 and 2017, you knew Havilah. Even if you just crossed paths briefly, her presence was not subtle or demure. And if you made her laugh it was a wonderful, wild cacophony of joy. Havilah is a raging fire of a human being, and everyone who interacted with her got to experience that warmth. Less of a cozy candle flame and more of a bonfire on the beach, contained but powerful. Compelling. Havilah's passion is contagious, it makes you want more out of life.

If you got into a conversation with Havilah, you knew she was writing a book. She has been devoted to crafting her memoirs (original working title: Jersey Mystic) the entire time I've known her. Hearing her stories of spontaneous travel to Australia and the UK with no contacts or place to stay, and the supernatural experiences she's had, it made all of us care about this hefty tome (weighing in at over 1000 pages in the first draft) getting skinny enough to be published and finding its way to the market. She persevered through years, working away at her life story while juggling jobs and moving cross-country, plus two rounds of fundraising. She was committed.

I'm amazed that I got to see Havilah on Zoom the day before she died. I had plans to spend the day writing, and casually invited a few friends to hop online and join me. So I got to have a quick update on her editing progress and her new plans for restructuring her book. Those plans are now in the hands of capable friends who have been helping edit and shape the book all along, but if you'd like to hear a few excerpts, Havilah made these videos on YouTube .

Who is like Havilah Giannetta? She is one of a kind. This is a huge loss, and I don't know if I'll ever fully comprehend it. But I know she is thrilled to be where she is, and one day I hope to hear that wonderful laugh of hers again.

Cortney Matz

I can’t pinpoint the moment I met Havilah. It feels like I just knew her. I probably met her at Epiphany Space, and probably through Cortney. Maybe it was at church. The exact moment escapes me—but life has never been the same.

When I think of Havilah, I’m reminded of late-night work sessions and the unforgettable night we met our friend Charles (ask me about that story sometime—it truly needs to be acted out). I think of long walks in the Hollywood Hills where we’d talk about God, men, writing, and everything in between. There was the time she turned me into her human cue sheet, taping her notes to me so she could read them while I filmed her funding video. I remember her tucked away in the prayer room at Epiphany Space, writing her memoir, always wrapped up because she was perpetually cold. She was one of our very first Artists in Residence at Epiphany Space, a legacy that continues to inspire.

Havilah had a deep, unshakable faith and an incredible ability to act on what she felt called to do. She was definitely one of a kind and I will miss her tremendously.

Becky Murdoch

****

Havilah was tragically struck and killed by a hit-and-run driver while out for a walk in rural Illinois on Sunday, November 10, 2024.

Born in Atlantic City, NJ, and raised just outside Charlottesville, VA, Havilah graduated from Columbia College in 2007 as a Kluge Scholar, earning her BA in English Literature.

She spent five years in Los Angeles, where she became an integral part of the Epiphany Space community. A devout Christian, Havilah had a deep love for travel and cultivated friendships that spanned the globe.

Kimberly McGraw Moore | Writer | Artist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 27 Nov 2024 01:02:43 GMT

Kimberly McGraw Moore

Writer & Artist

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

I’m an Alabama native. I grew up on the coast and now live in east central Alabama, just a few minutes from the Georgia border, with my husband and our three pups.

My background is in history, anthropology, and museum education (though I’ve done a few other things too). I now spend my days writing and making art.

I stumbled across Epiphany Space on Facebook one day last fall when I found an event listing for a creative meet-up in Columbus, GA, not far from where I live. I was intrigued, and when I looked into Epiphany Space, I grew excited. My husband and I had been talking for a couple of years about finding a group just like this. Working within creative fields and running businesses comes with challenges and sacrifices and rewards. We wanted–needed, really–a space in which we could exchange ideas, give and receive support, and just meet cool people doing cool things.

I joined Epiphany Space’s online community and proceeded to meet those cool people. Then my husband and I attended our first meet-up in Columbus, met even more cool people, and had an absolute blast.

I found Epiphany Space precisely at a time I needed to find it. I’m so grateful for this community and the welcome and support I’ve already found here.

Who inspires you? What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

I’m most inspired by those who explore, who play, who try new things, who embrace continuous learning and growth, who aren’t complacent. I’m inspired by people who, as I do, work across disciplines and prove one doesn’t have to sacrifice one form of creation for another. Austin Kleon writes about this in Steal Like an Artist, which, along with the rest of the series, never fails to encourage me.

Artistically, Henri Matisse, the other Fauves, and the Post-Impressionists are my greatest influences. I also adore Janet Hill’s work. Her work is colorful and whimsical and rooted in story.

As for writing, I’m probably most influenced by Gothic writers such as Charlotte Bronte and Daphne du Maurier, Louisa May Alcott (both her Gothic thrillers and her better-known tame works), Agatha Christie, and Kahlil Gibran, among others. My work tends to wander from whimsical to dark to somewhere in between.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

Still writing and still making art. Still learning and still improving. I plan to continue acting. I’ve also long dreamed of establishing a studio/gallery with a co-working space, a co-op shop, and classes.

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

Oh, challenges. (Cue laughter.) My greatest challenge is Bipolar Disorder, which means I cycle through periods of hypomania (up) and depression (down). I also deal with migraines, which are common among people with BPD. I’ve had to learn what triggers mood episodes and what I can do to support myself both in and out of episodes. One of my greatest needs is flexibility, and we have arranged life to allow for such a thing. I’m blessed that we are in a position in which I can stay home, focus on my art and writing, and work around my needs. But by far, the hardest thing has been learning to find balance and show myself grace. It’s something I must work at every day.

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

Right now, my husband and I are finishing up a Kickstarter project (our first one!), a supplemental systems and settings book for a tabletop roleplaying game. That project has been in the works for three years now.

Independently, I’m finishing up a manuscript I’ve been working on for several years. I just opened an online shop for my artwork. I also just finished an acting class and performed in our final showcase. That experience reminded me of how much I enjoy performing, something I haven’t really done since working in living history interpretation. I’m looking forward to another class in the fall.

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

Complacency is the enemy of creativity. Don’t settle into doing the same thing over and over without working to improve. If you want to draw a portrait but all you do is draw smiley faces, you’ll get really good at smiley faces but never learn to draw a portrait. Masters are masters because they never stop learning and working and exploring. Surround yourself with others who are doing the same thing. Seek people with greater experience and skills who can guide you. Work hard, accept failure, learn what went wrong and why, then move forward and enjoy seeing the progress born of this process.

December Events to Spark Your Creative Journey!

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 21 Nov 2024 21:48:12 GMT

December Events to Spark Your Creative Journey!

Hello Fellow Creatives!

Can you believe 2024 is almost over? This year flew by—except for September. Maybe that was just me?

As we close out the year, we’re inspired by the legacy of patrons like the Guggenheims, the Rothschilds, and Gertrude Stein, who made it possible for artists of all kinds to create their masterpieces.

At Epiphany Space, we’re carrying that tradition forward, building a thriving creative community. As a non-profit, we’re funded by you—our incredible creatives and patrons who champion the transformative potential of creativity.

This year, we aim to raise $15,000 to continue providing peer mentorship, space for collaboration, and other opportunities for artists and dreamers to grow. Throughout the month, we’ll share different ways for you to join us as a patron and support this mission.

Happy Creating,
Becky

Watching - The Classic Star Wars Trilogy (with the kids and all the Baby Yoda stuffies), and Britain's Hidden Coastal Villages
Listening - Christmas music for joy and inspiration.
Reading - Chronic by Carissa Taylor, When Women Lead by Julia Boorstin, and The Temple and the Tabernacle by J. Daniel Hays

Melissa Gibson Smith - Epiphany Space Founder

Ready to Ignite Your Creative Journey?

This is your moment! Whether it’s joining one of our monthly events or becoming a member of our vibrant artist community, now’s the time to take the leap.

Why wait? Unlock access to:
✨ A network of like-minded creatives
✨ Expert-led workshops
✨ Resources to elevate your craft

The ‘right’ moment isn’t coming—it’s already here.

Jump in today and start transforming your creative journey. Let’s create something unforgettable together!

�� Join us now!

A Legacy of Creativity | Part 2: Present

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 13 Nov 2024 18:06:40 GMT

A Legacy of Creativity | Part 2: Present

By Steven W. Alloway

The Spark – A Legacy of Creativity Part II: Present

By Steven W. Alloway

I’m fond of saying that I’ve been appearing onstage since before I was born. It’s technically true. My mother, while pregnant with me, acted in a Christmas-themed play about Mary on the road to Bethlehem.

I’m also fond of telling people that, from the moment I was born, I was in the spotlight. That wasn’t about performing; it was just because I had jaundice. Still, both stories are an apt illustration of who I am and how I got this way.

In my last article, I talked about my family and the legacy of creativity that I grew up with. Now, I’d like to talk about how I’ve carried on that legacy and continue to do so to this day.

A Creative Smart Aleck

When my brother and I were kids, my mother admonished us that we were not allowed to act professionally until we turned 18. Having been a professional actress herself, she’d seen what the Industry can do to a child and the problems it can cause, impacting them well into adulthood—for those who even make it that far.

Now, at this point in my life, I had no particular desire to be a professional actor. What I did want to be, though, was a smart aleck. So I immediately began looking for a loophole. “What if,” I asked her, “It’s in a movie that I write and direct myself? Then can I be a professional actor?”

I’m not sure my mother actually agreed to these terms, but as far as I was concerned, I’d found my loophole. I’d make my own films, cast myself and my friends in them, release them, make lots of money, and, as a side benefit, become the first seven-year-old to win a Best Director Oscar.

This was the essence of my creativity growing up. I planned big, extravagant projects, just to prove that I could do them. Of course, in a number of cases, it turned out that I couldn’t. I wrote plenty of scripts for feature films, but actually shooting them proved difficult, as I didn’t have a camera. But in my mind, this was a minor inconvenience at best.

Embracing the Turmoil

Over the years, my projects became less about proving that I could and more about seeing no particular reason why I couldn’t. Sure, I didn’t have a camera. But what I did have was a stage.

In 1997, my mother founded our theater group, Spirit OnStage, which was based out of our church. In early 1998, I mounted our first full-length play: a comedy of kings and queens, swords and silliness, called Medieval Turmoil in Pentalia . I was 14 years old. My mother actually just recently unearthed a copy of the script, which I hadn’t seen in many years, and I reread it for the first time since the 8th grade.

“Is it any good?” you ask, forgetting for a moment that I can’t hear you through the computer screen.

It’s… not as bad as I thought it would be. But it’s still not what I would actually call good. I was raised on movies like Airplane and Duck Soup , where the plot is basically just a vehicle to get the audience from one terrible joke or ridiculous gag to the next. What I didn’t realize was that, unless you are a Marx or Zucker Brother, it is exceedingly difficult to make that format continue to be compelling over the course of an hour or more. Plus, most of the jokes were stolen from other sources, so it’s funny, but not particularly original. Still, we managed to bring the play to the stage, and audiences seemed to enjoy it.

A Labour of Love

Four years later, I decided that I wanted to direct Shakespeare. Not only that, I wanted to direct one of the plays that almost nobody has heard of—one that also has a somewhat difficult ending that’s a jarring departure from that of traditional Shakespeare comedies. And so, at 18 years old, I brought Love’s Labour’s Lost to the stage.

“Was it any good?” you ask, because apparently, I do just answer the questions you pose to your computer screen now.

That’s a difficult question to answer. With Medieval Turmoil , there’s a script that I can go back to and judge its problems and merits. With Love’s Labour’s Lost , the script is Shakespeare’s, not mine. As for the performance, there wasn’t any recording of it. All I have are my memories of what we did and how things turned out. So an objective evaluation is pretty much impossible.

However, I was an 18-year-old trying to direct Shakespeare, so my instinct tells me that no, it wasn’t great. I lacked the experience and maturity necessary to do justice to the material. At the same time, though, I remember some of the things we did, some of the bits I came up with, some of the blocking, the costumes, the set design… And I’m pretty proud of it. If I were to direct the show again, there are a lot of things I would do differently, but there are also a lot of things that I would keep just the same.

A World of Possibilities

These two shows, in my opinion, are a great illustration of my creative legacy. I’ve talked about my family’s creativity and the creative environment that surrounded me, literally since before I was born. As a result, I grew up just assuming I could do anything. Feature-length film at 7, feature-length play at 14, Shakespeare production at 18… How could it ever be anything but amazing?

Of course, the act of actually doing those things taught me that it’s not as simple as just deciding to do something and then making it happen. It takes a lot of time and resources for these creative endeavors to come to fruition. And it takes a lot of hard work and a lot of experience in order to turn those creative endeavors into something truly good and worthwhile. Just because you technically can do something doesn’t necessarily mean you’re ready to. Though, on the other hand, just because you’re not ready doesn’t necessarily mean you shouldn’t do something.

And often, you don’t really know if you’re ready until you try it. That goes both ways, too. You may think you’re ready for something, but then once you actually try to do it, you’re blindsided by problems you never even considered. You can also be absolutely certain you’re not ready to do something, you’re not good enough, don’t have the experience, etc.—but then, when you actually set out to do it, you find you’re a lot more ready than you thought you were.

A Folder of Improbabilities

Up to this point, we’ve still been talking about the past. I’ve done some pretty cool, creative things and learned a lot on the journey, but how does it affect the creative legacy that I’m carrying on now, in the present?

Well, I’m no longer the kid who just assumes he can do anything. But at heart, I’m still the guy who wants to. Time and experience may have given me more realistic expectations, but they have not yet quelled that innate desire to leap headfirst into every wild and grandiose scheme I can conceive of—and I hope they never do.

I have a file folder on my computer labeled, “Expensive Short Film Scripts.” It’s exactly what it sounds like: scripts I’ve written that involve elaborate effects, exotic locations, or just generally a lot more money and other resources than I currently have at my disposal. I can’t make these films, but I’m working towards them, figuring out what I need, and making plans hopefully to get every one of those scripts off the ground someday.

14-year-old me would have taken those scripts, started casting, grabbed a camera wherever I could find one, and been halfway through filming before realizing that I had no idea how to shoot a scene with a life-size dragon. Present me understands that if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing right. Present me knows that if you take the time to work on these problems and figure them out, rather than jumping in headfirst, it’s possible to create some truly amazing things.

Also, present me has access to a life-size dragon.

The Sword and the Dragon

Which brings me to the most important part of my creative legacy in the present: community. It’s true that I don’t have a lot of money or resources. What I do have are friends. Whole communities of amazingly talented friends who can help me with the things that I can’t do myself.

Six years ago, I wrote a play for Spirit OnStage called Aisling of Erin . Based on a series of Irish folktales, the play included a dragon as a character. I had a small, dragon hand puppet that I bought earlier that year and was planning on using that. But then I had the bright idea that the dragon should start out small, then grow to giant size later in the play.

Fortunately, one of our members is an engineer, designer, artist, and just generally a genius at building and making things. I asked him to build us a life-size, puppet dragon head, and boy oh boy, did he build one. It has glowing eyes and is capable of devouring smaller puppets. We’ve used it in at least half a dozen other shows since then, and it’s one of the coolest props we have.

That same show included several sword fights. Several members of our cast, myself included, had done a little bit of stage combat, but being able to choreograph a convincing sword-fighting scene while maintaining safety requires a lot more than just a few classes. None of us had that level of experience.

Fortunately, I had friends who did: some friends from stage combat class, as well as friends from other theater troupes who knew how to stage a sword fight. I asked a few of them, and one was able to come and help us out, coaching our actors through multiple routines and creating some amazing action scenes for us—including the dramatic slaying of the aforementioned dragon puppet.

Finally, we needed somewhere to perform the show. While Spirit OnStage used to be based out of my church, after my mother and I both left that church, the group eventually became nomadic. Now, like a lot of small theaters in L.A., we rent space where and when we can, based on what we need, what we can afford, and what’s available. So where could we find an event space that accommodates artists and creatives? The answer came to us like an Epiphany…

Yes, Epiphany Space let us rent their courtyard for the show (side note: I miss when Epiphany had a courtyard) at a price we could afford, and even rearranged some of their other scheduled goings-on to accommodate the dates and times we wanted—plus, they lent us a volunteer to help out with some audience participation bits during dress rehearsal.

Epiphany ended up being the perfect space for the show. And the show ended up being one of the best, most fun, and most well-received things we’ve ever done. When it comes to creative legacy, Aisling of Erin is something I’m incredibly proud of.

Building a Legacy Together

But that legacy would be nothing without the community that surrounded it and made it possible: a community that helped us, supported us, provided us with resources, and even the community who came to see the show when it went up.

And of course, that’s true of every other show I’ve done, too. If Love’s Labour’s Lost was a good show, it wasn’t because of me and my directing ability. It was because we had an absolutely fantastic cast, all of whom went above and beyond to make it a good show.

So my creative legacy in the present is about embracing that community: reaching out to others to help me bring to life those wild and grandiose schemes that I could never do on my own. And of course, helping my friends to realize their wild and grandiose schemes as well, in whatever way I can. And together, we can build a creative legacy for the future that brings all of our wildest dreams to life.

The Spark: Celebrating the Legacy of Our Creative Community

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 06 Nov 2024 21:34:34 GMT

The Spark: A Creative Legacy
Celebrating the Legacy of Our Creative Community

By becky Murdoch

Let’s celebrate eighty issues of The Spark !

When I first envisioned The Spark , I didn’t see it as a "creative legacy"—it was just an idea that had been floating around in my head for a while. In 2022, during a writing retreat in Georgia, I finally decided to go for it.

Wow. Has it been that long already? I checked, and yes—it has.

Just a few weeks ago, in our “10 Ways to Build a Legacy of Creativity That Lasts” post, one of the ideas was to “start a blog.” At the time, I was actually thinking about my personal blog, No Sex in the City , rather than The Spark .

The Spark is a collection of thoughts from a creative community. It’s become a legacy—a creative journey that’s helped shape and reflect the voices of so many in the Epiphany Space community.

The direction wasn’t always clear. What started with bi-weekly interviews has expanded to include articles, playlists, and a variety of creative expressions. I’m always thinking about ways to make it better. It’s truly a team effort, and I couldn’t do it every week without Steve Alloway, Matthew Crofoot, and everyone who guest writes or contributes their insights.

Every issue of The Spark is a chance to explore, create, and share. It’s filled with stories, artwork, and ideas that push boundaries, celebrate wins, and amplify voices that are sometimes overlooked. We’ve learned from each other and shared in each other's creative journeys.

At the end of most interviews, we ask, “What advice would you give to other creatives?” Here are a few gems from our community:

“If you want to do it, just go for it. You have the passion…Now as for writing, I would say to carve out time to write and if you don’t know what to write about, try stream-of-consciousness writing, which always helps me. Just write whatever comes to mind until you find a topic you’d like to discuss. Also, have fun and pivot if something does not work out! You can always try something different or go in a way you didn’t think about.” Shanaya Allen

“Research, research, research. Research your idea. Is there a market for it? Will people buy your service or widget? What price point? Be smart! Interview others who are doing your idea. Ask lots of questions so you can know how starting this business will impact your life. Are you willing to have that impact on your life? As a dreamer, I hate talking money, but you must research the financial cost breakdown of this business. Draft a business plan from your research. Test it out. Research, research, research. If you need business book ideas, hit me up! I’ve read a lot.

Just start. At some point, and you’ll know the point -- you’ve done your research. It all makes sense logistically. Inside you're freaking out and excited at the same time. That’s the moment. You must start. You must leap. Unfortunately, the net doesn’t always appear, but what you learn from those falls is AMAZING and will propel you to the next step and then the next. Before you know it, you’ll be three years into your business like me and loving every minute of it!” Melinda Grace

“You're not as old as you think you are. If you want to do something, find a way to do it. If that challenge is too daunting (because of other important commitments like family), start and just take baby steps in that direction. You're one baby step closer... and let's be honest: Eventually, babies always get what they want.” Hunter Stiebel

These messages capture what The Spark has always aimed to share: how creativity connects us, how stories and ideas can be transformative, and how to go out and do the work. It’s about giving people the freedom to express, to dream, and to be heard.

Each issue is a celebration of that potential.

Looking ahead, I see the next eighty issues as just as full of possibility. The creative legacy we’re building will continue to grow, from interviews with changemakers to art that challenges perceptions. There’s no shortage of material ready to be explored.

Here’s to The Spark—eighty issues down, with a legacy that’s only beginning. I can’t wait to look back in ten years and see how far we’ve all come.

Also, I still want to create a time capsule. Anyone want to add something?

Big Band Chill November Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 06 Nov 2024 21:33:20 GMT

Check out our November Mixtape to SPARK your creativity!

40s era big band hits to relax too.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Blank Pages & Bad Paintings: Finding Freedom & Legacy in Creative Play

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 29 Oct 2024 23:28:08 GMT

Blank Pages & Bad Paintings: Finding Freedom & Legacy in Creative Play

By Beth Dzhiganyan

November Events to Spark Your Creative Journey!

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 22 Oct 2024 23:38:33 GMT

November Events to Spark Your Creative Journey!

Hello Fellow Creatives!

Did you know I first got involved with Epiphany Space through events? Years ago, Cortney Matz and I hosted a Variety Show fundraiser, and I was hooked. Melissa gave me the freedom to experiment with different types of events, allowing me to discover what worked and what didn’t. I’ve always loved bringing people together, and over the past eight years, I’ve had the chance to host hundreds of events and grow that passion!

Every event we create is designed to spark creativity and build connection within a larger creative community. From writing groups and peer mentorship to artist meetups, we provide a supportive space for creatives of all disciplines worldwide.

Whether you’re refining your craft, looking for your next breakthrough, or simply want to surround yourself with fellow artists, there’s something here for everyone. If you’ve never joined or it’s been a while, I encourage you to check out our events—online or in person!

Happy Creating,
Becky

Watching - My Adventures with Superman & The Chronicles of Narnia series from the late 80s
Listening - MALINDA - Look at You Now on Spotify & Winnie the Pooh (as read by Peter Dennis) on Audible
Reading - Beryl Blue: Time Cop by Janet Reye Stevens

Steve Alloway - Epiphany Space Community Member

Epiphany Space Monthly Events

Ready to Take the Leap in Your Creative Journey?

This is your moment to connect and grow! Whether you're joining one of our monthly events for an unforgettable experience or becoming a member of our artist community, now is the perfect time to invest in your creative future. Get exclusive access to a network of like-minded artists, expert workshops, and resources designed to elevate your craft.

Don’t wait for the ‘right’ moment—the right moment is now!

Jump in and start transforming your creative journey today.

10 Creative Legacy Projects to Preserve Your Artistic Journey

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 16 Oct 2024 01:03:03 GMT

10 Ways to Build a Legacy of Creativity that Lasts

By Becky Murdoch

1. Write a Memoir About Your Life
I love a good memoir! Unlike a traditional biography or autobiography, memoirs are lighter, more flexible, and deeply personal. They can capture a single moment, a life-changing experience, or even stretch across decades. Whether you're writing just for yourself, to share with family and friends, or with the intention of publishing, a memoir allows you to tell your story in your own unique way.

2. Create a Time Capsule of Creative Milestones
Not gonna lie. I’ve always wanted to do a time capsule. Do people do these in real life? I guess I’ve only ever seen it on television. What would you put in it? Where would you hide it? An attic? Maybe bury it in your back yard? That seems super impractical. Who would find it? Do you tell someone it’s there? In any case, you can pack your favorite pieces, personal reflections, and art tools into a time capsule to be opened by future generations.

3. Start a Blog to Document Your Process
I just started this, I know—about 20 years late to the party—but hey, better late than never! It’s kind of like a memoir, but online, where you can share whatever you want. For me, it’s about being older, single, and Christian. I don’t have kids, but if I can inspire someone else who's in the same boat, that’s legacy right there!

4. Leave a Collection of Works in an Exhibition or Gallery
Is there a space in your community where you could showcase your work? Think beyond traditional galleries—community centers, libraries, and universities often feature art from local creators. It’s a great way to connect with your community and share your talent!

5. Publish a Book of Your Creative Work
Not interested in writing a memoir? How about poetry, or compiling some of your favorite photographs? I recently attended a memorial where a friend put together a beautiful collection of paintings, writings, and photography to honor our loved one. It was such a touching tribute, and it inspired me to create something similar for my nieces. What kind of creative project would celebrate you and showcase your unique talents?

6. Give future creatives a glimpse into your thought process by leaving behind notebooks filled with unfinished ideas.
I love this kind of stuff! I would be thrilled if I stumbled across something like this while cleaning out someone’s house, but the thought of someone finding my own unfinished ideas? Horrifying! I tend to brain-dump when I journal, so I probably come across as completely unhinged. You could also include notes and sketches of unfinished ideas—it’s all part of the creative process.

7. Write a Creative Manifesto
Let’s channel our inner Jerry Maguire and create a manifesto to leave behind for the next generation—a declaration that captures your personal philosophy on creativity and artistic expression. Bonus points if you actively live out the principles in your manifesto, showing future generations how your ideas have come to life. What a powerful legacy to inspire others!

8. Compile Your Thoughts in a Zine or Create an Art Journal
Self-publish a zine or art journals that weave together your reflections on art and creativity with illustrations, poetry, or photography. Consider making a few copies to share with friends and family; it could even serve as a unique Christmas card! It’s a fresh take on the traditional end-of-year letter that many people (not me) enjoy sending out. What a thoughtful way to share your artistic journey!

9. Support your favorite Arts Organization
Become a monthly patron or establish a fund to support future creative projects in your community, ensuring that your legacy continues to nurture and inspire others. Not sure where to start? I’m here to help you figure it out! ��

10. Curate Playlists That Fueled Your Creativity
I’m a huge fan of a good playlist, and at The Spark, we create a new playlist every month! What songs inspire you? Consider sharing the music that has influenced your art by leaving behind playlists that capture the different creative phases of your life. It’s a beautiful way to reflect on your journey and inspire others!

A Legacy of Creativity | Part 1: Past By Steven W. Alloway

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 09 Oct 2024 17:00:00 GMT

A Legacy of Creativity | Part 1: Past
By Steven W. Alloway

My mother is fond of telling me that I’m doomed. Perhaps an odd bit of parental wisdom, but what she means is that I come from a long line of weirdos, on both sides of my family, so there’s no escaping being a weirdo myself. And, that being the case, I’m also destined to get odd looks from so-called “normal people,” who very likely won’t understand what I’m doing or talking about a lot of the time.

Randomly quoting obscure TV and movies? Bursting into song in the middle of a conversation? Making up a song in the middle of a conversation? Turning absolutely everything into a terrible pun? If you know me, you’ve probably heard me do one or more of these things. And if you know my family… Well, then you know that my mother is right. (And if my mother were to hear me say that she’s right, she would immediately say, “Sylvia’s right?!” in mock shock, which was a gag in one of our Christmas shows, probably close to 20 years ago, and which we still quote to this day. Seriously, we are all just a bunch of weirdos.)

And it would be very easy to leave it at that. I come from a family of weirdos, and it explains how I got the way I am. But there’s more to it than that. My family isn’t just strange and silly. They’re also incredibly talented, incredibly creative people. That creativity has been a presence in my life for longer than I can remember, and it’s played a huge role in shaping who I am and what I do. So let’s take a look at that legacy of creativity, on both sides of my family, and how it made me the weirdo that I am today.

The Legacy of My Grandparents

My mother’s love of theater made her the black sheep of her conservative, Christian family. Acting? On STAGE? How could she engage in such sinful behavior?

Of course, the irony is, my grandparents, who were so adamant that she not become part of that abhorrent “actor lifestyle,” were not only the ones who inspired her love of performing, but in fact, two of the biggest hams you’ve ever met. They would write skits and record them on the family reel-to-reel tape recorder. Perhaps the most memorable was one called “The Glorious Russian Opera,” about a family who discovers that their house is on fire—and, rather than evacuating, spend all their time singing about it.

They would also perform for church functions. My grandmother would write silly songs, and my grandfather would sing them. One year, after returning home from a vacation in Florida, they did a song called “The Happy Tourist,” which was a parody of “Modern Major General” from Gilbert and Sullivan’s Pirates of Penzance . Obviously, this was many years before I was born, but the legacy of this song remains in my mother’s family to this day, and over the years, I’ve heard bits and pieces of it sung by my mother, my grandfather, my grandmother, and at least one of my uncles.

The point being, these were more than just silly frivolities. Creating and performing these things has a significant and lasting impact on my family. They were important. They were remembered. They were part of who my grandparents were, and they helped to shape who my mother was, too. And that lasting legacy has in turn helped shape who I am as well.

The Legacy of My Mother

Talking about my mother’s life as a performer could easily be a full article unto itself. In fact, my mother already talked about her own creative legacy last month in her Spark interview . If you want to know all about her life of creative endeavors, you should definitely read that. But I’ll just cover the highlights.

My mother started acting professionally when she was a teenager, performing in children’s theater, stage musicals, doing voiceover work, and more. She eventually decided to switch to a career in education instead. But even though she wasn’t going out on auditions or doing paid acting work, theater and performing were always a huge part of her life.

Growing up, I never knew a time when my mother wasn’t putting together some sort of theatrical endeavor. When she wasn’t doing short skits in church, she was teaching drama classes after school, or volunteering to help whoever was in charge of the school musical that year. One year, she was put in charge of choreography, which, if you know my mother at all, is… certainly a choice. But she rose to the occasion. One of the songs in the show that year was a rap song. So my middle-aged, white, conservative Christian mother spent a morning watching rap videos on BET, to come up with choreography. I don’t remember a lot about the number, but if I recall correctly, it ended up looking pretty good.

Then my parents moved my brother and me to a different school. As soon as she heard we were doing a play, she went immediately to the choir director, who was in charge of it, and offered to assist with anything he needed.

Now, at my old school, everyone knew my mother. She was a presence. She was the Drama Lady. But at this new school, she had no such reputation. And so, when she offered the choir director her services, he gave her a blank stare and said, “Ummm… Maybe you can help sew costumes?” Which, if you know my mother at all… Rap choreography may have been a challenge she could rise to, but costume seamstress was a bridge too far.

So instead, she just kept doing theater on her own, wherever and whenever she could. Eventually, she formed her own theater troupe, Spirit OnStage, and our faithful band has performed plays, musicals, variety shows, vaudeville sketches, and just about anything else you can think of, since 1997.

Not to mention the fact that, for a number of years, my mother performed as a clown. Clarissa the Clown began as a one-off school chapel performance, to teach kids about the dangers of drugs. The character quickly evolved and developed, and my mother used Clarissa to teach a variety of biblical lessons, touring schools and eventually learning a few basic magic tricks, to branch out into birthday parties and other events as well. Clarissa the Clown even performed in China.

This is the environment I grew up in, and continue to exist in to this day. I can’t conceive of a world where there isn’t some sort of theater going on. Even if there isn’t a production actively being mounted, there’s always another show to plan for, another show to help out with, another show on the horizon—if not with Spirit OnStage then with any of the half-dozen other groups we work with. Performing is as much a part of our lives as walking or breathing. That’s the legacy of creativity that my mother has built for me.

The Legacy of My Father

My father, on the other hand, was from a very different background. Before he met my mother, he’d never done any type of acting or theater—except, as he liked to tell us, for that time he conducted the band.

Back when my dad was in school, someone stopped him out of the blue one day to get his help with a project. During some sort of school function, this person wanted my dad to put on a band uniform, stand in front of the school band, and pretend to conduct them. I don’t know exactly what the reason was, and I’m not even sure my dad did either, but he complied anyway. He stood up, in front of the band and in front of the whole school, and pretended to conduct. And as far as he was concerned, that would be the entire extent of his acting experience.

Even after he met and married my mother, acting on stage was always her thing, not his. He supported her in everything she did, of course, but he was content to let her have the spotlight, and he would stay in the audience.

Which is not to say my dad didn’t do his share of performing. Just like my mother, and my grandparents, he was a born ham. When he read stories to my brother and me, he wouldn’t just do the silly voices, he’d often insert his own bits of dialogue and narration. Or, more often, he would make up his own stories to tell us, filled with his own brand of ridiculous weirdness. (One of them, “The Jack Story,” I just finished mounting as a puppet play at a theater in Burbank.)

He would also make up his own songs and sing them to us. My mother is a trained singer with a lifetime of experience in choirs. My dad did not have a classically trained voice, and in fact, he claimed he only knew the lyrics to one song: "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". But he also had plenty of his own songs in his repertoire. Some of them consisted of nonsense words, others were about whatever we were doing in that moment, and a fair few were about hobbits. But regardless of the subject matter, he would perform them with great enthusiasm, at the drop of a hat.

So, even though my dad wasn’t a Stage Actor™, he was a performer through and through.

A Legacy on the Stage

Of course, my dad eventually started acting on the stage, too. In 1993, my mother mounted an original, full-length play called Trouble at Sidewinder’s Gulch . It was a spoof Western melodrama featuring a meek and saintly farm girl, the dastardly villain who held the deed to her farm, and the clumsy cowboy who held the key to her heart. There was also an extended cast of other colorful characters, from a mysterious old prospector whom everyone thought was dead, to a sarcastic grandmother with a penchant for similes, to a precocious child who can’t keep from turning every story into a Tall Tale (played by a certain nine-year-old who later went on to become Epiphany Space’s Interviewer Extraordinaire).

Finding people to play all of these roles proved to be a difficult task. After casting everyone she could think of and calling in a few favors from others, there was still at least one small but important role to be filled: Cerveza, bartender at the local saloon. Well, as it happened, my dad had actually been a bartender. And so he thought maybe this was something he could do, even without Stage Actor™ experience. He volunteered to step into the role.

Before Sidewinder’s Gulch , my dad’s only official experience performing was conducting that band when he was in school. But as it turned out, he was a natural. My dad was great in the play, bringing his own brand of silliness to the role. His character wore an eye patch, and during intermission, he switched eyes, just to see if anyone would notice. And in fact, he ended up playing two different roles. In addition to the bartender, he also played the offstage voice of the farm girl’s faithful cow. It was supposed to consist of mooing sounds. Instead, my dad just said the word, “Moo!” And it was one of the funniest things in the play.

And the rest, as they say, is history. My dad kept acting in more and more shows. And despite his continual insistence that he was not really an actor, and only did it to help my mother (and later me), he never failed to steal the show in any scene he was in.

There was the time I had to cast him, at the very last minute, in a Shakespeare play, despite his not liking or understanding Shakespeare, in a role that consisted largely of faux Latin, and with only two rehearsals, he ended up being one of the best actors in the whole show. Or the time, in one of our Christmas shows, that we cast him as the Partridge in a Pear Tree, and he provided a hilarious pseudo-partridge impression that consisted of spinning around saying, “Awk! Awk!” Not to mention the fact that my dad has the distinction of having once played the comic relief in a recreation of Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds broadcast. “But there’s no comic relief in Orson Welles’ War of the Worlds !” you might be saying. Well, there was the way he did it.

Earlier, I said that I could write a whole article just about my mother’s creative legacy of performing. I’m realizing now that I could do a whole article on my dad’s legacy, too. And perhaps at some point I will. We’ve only just scratched the surface here. There are so many great stories that are worth telling. But for now, suffice it to say, my dad had an incredible creative legacy that continues to have an impact on my life to this day. And he was an absolute weirdo, to boot.

The Legacy of My Brother

This article wouldn’t be complete without talking about the creative legacy of one other member of my family: my brother. My brother died in 1995, so he never got to be part of Spirit OnStage or join the group of crazy weirdos that sit in our living room planning our shows while trading obscure pop culture references and threatening to throw snack foods at whoever makes a terrible pun (usually me). But while he was alive, he was a huge part of our family’s performing legacy.

Of course, he was in all the school plays. That was a matter of course—whether he was playing a weed trying to come up with as many bad words as possible (“Pasta Fazool!”), a homeless kid left out of a church potluck, an eccentric scientist, or a pessimistic bee. He got cast whether my mother was helping out with the show or not, simply because he was a talented actor and singer.

And of course, he would help out with my mother’s plays too. Like the rest of our family, he was in Trouble at Sidewinder’s Gulch , playing one of the villain’s henchmen, who was simultaneously both dumber and smarter than everyone else in the room.

But my brother also liked to help out behind the scenes. If he wasn’t in the play, chances were, he was running the soundboard or doing other tech stuff. Which allowed him to carry on our family’s creative legacy in a different way.

The Legacy Comes Full Circle

My mother grew up recording stories on her parents’ reel-to-reel tape recorder. My brother and I grew up recording what we called The Alloway Christmas Tape . Every year, throughout the year, our family would record ourselves on a cassette, talking about the cool and interesting things we were doing. Steven learns to ride a bike? We talk about it on the tape. Matthew sings a solo in the school play? He also sings it on the tape. The family goes to a fair where mom and dad get a cool new pepper grinder and Steven develops a lifelong love of RVs? We talk about it on the tape. We’d intersperse it with songs, jokes, and silly bits, and at the end of the year, we’d make copies to send to relatives and close friends, much like a Christmas letter.

With my brother’s tech-savvy, he soon became the Christmas Tape Guru. He’d edit it, assembling a cohesive structure out of all the individual bits, getting multiple takes when something didn’t quite sound right, and even recording room tone. And he would also include a play.

A huge lover of old-time radio drama, my brother would write short audio plays for the whole family to perform on the tape. One year, he did The Emperor’s New Clothes . The next year, it was an obscure Grimm fairy tale called, The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage (which he changed to, The Squirrel, the Bird, and the Sausage at the insistence of my dad, who hated mice). In that one, my brother played the role of a talking sausage, who only says, “Gloob”—but manages to make it mean whatever he needs to communicate. Before Vin Diesel had “I Am Groot,” my brother had “Gloob.”

A year after that, my brother did an epic, four-part adaptation of A Christmas Carol , with himself in the role of Scrooge. That was 1994. I don’t remember what he had planned for 1995, and sadly, we never got to see it come to fruition, as that was the year he died. His creative legacy, however, lives on.

This was the environment I grew up in. An environment where, whether or not they were an Actor™ or a Writer™, everyone performed and everyone told stories. And everyone was totally, inescapably, unapologetically weird. The legacy runs deep. So I guess what my mother said is true: I’m doomed.

But what does that doom look like? How have I carried on that creative legacy that’s been ingrained in me my whole life? I’ll explore that in my next Spark Article, “A Legacy of Creativity Part 2: Present.” Stay tuned!

Legacy of Creativity Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Fri, 04 Oct 2024 20:50:38 GMT

Check out our October Mixtape to SPARK your creativity!

Songs that speak to the journey of artists, the power of imagination, and the impact of creative expression across time from generations past or to generations future.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Caren Kelly on Filmmaking, Producing, and the Power of Community

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 02 Oct 2024 02:44:25 GMT

Caren Kelly | Producer

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

My name is Caren Kelly and I have been a partner of Epiphany Space since it began many years ago. Melissa Smith and I met in Los Angeles as two female artists navigating the film world. She was an incredible and much-needed support to me. As an artist, life can sometimes feel very lonely and impossible – in moments like those, having an amazing support system is not only nice but necessary.

What inspired you to pursue filmmaking, and how have you managed to stay motivated through the challenges of your creative journey?

As a teenager, I always wanted to be a filmmaker. I was drawn to movies and television, thinking of how much fun it would be to be an actress. Over time I realized my talents were geared toward producing. I feel so blessed to be “living my dream”, doing what I love. But, just because I am a producer doesn’t mean life doesn’t have its challenges.

The quote “life is about the journey, not the destination” is one I love and hate all at the same time. I like to complete things, see the destination, and arrive quickly. Over the years I have learned very little comes quickly. It is so easy to give up on your dream. If I didn’t have my people, a great community around me encouraging me, and challenging me I would have given up. Given up, not only on my dream of producing but of arriving at my decided destination. I would be missing all of the beautiful moments in my life journey.

Upon waking each day, I try to remember that this is a beautiful day that was created, let me rejoice and be glad in it and see the amazing miracles that will happen. BUT when I wake up feeling like the world has ended, as I believe everyone does now and again, I have my people who will remind me of the journey I am on. They won’t let me give up.

I think to say “enjoy the journey” is an easy statement to make but a very hard one to live out. Life is tough, there are so many twists and turns, but I believe if we can learn to actually “enjoy the journey, not the destination” life can be incredibly fulfilling.

I think of the Pixar movie “Up”. The husband and wife were saving money to take their dream vacation, which they never were able to take because life happened. This could have been devastating but the wife didn’t mind that her vacation didn’t come, she enjoyed the journey.

So as artists, as we are all navigating our art, hoping and praying for fulfillment to happen, let’s enjoy the journey together. Encouraging each other to keep going but also not to miss out on the beautiful moments that happen each and every day.

Creative Flow Through Play

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Tue, 24 Sep 2024 23:20:38 GMT

Creative Flow Through Play

by Melissa Gibson Smith

What is your relationship with Play?

Are you BFF’s?

Regardless of what your relationship with play looks like at the moment, play plays an important role in creating, dreaming, and learning —all key elements for artists and entrepreneurs.

With play comes a sense of delight and wonder, a restoration of well-being, hope, and possibilities.

Play can seem frivolous to onlookers; it’s not. Play is a life hack.

When we develop new skills, new mental pathways have to be formed. Depending on the skill, hand-eye coordination needs to be developed, along with memory, and muscle memory.

If we are not careful, our artist life can be isolating. However, when surrounded by other talented and kind-hearted creatives, we can experience joy and increase our creative output.

How are you inviting play into your life and creativity?

October Events to Fuel Your Creative Fire!

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 18 Sep 2024 19:33:21 GMT

October Events to Fuel Your Creative Fire!

Watching - Dark Winds on Netflix
Listening - Estados Alterados Latin American Electro-Rock on Spotify
Reading - Quiet by Susan Cain

Javier Valencia - Epiphany Space Community Member

Ready to Take the Leap in Your Creative Journey?

This is your moment to connect and grow! Whether you're joining one of our monthly events for an unforgettable experience or becoming a member of our artist community, now is the perfect time to invest in your creative future. Get exclusive access to a network of like-minded artists, expert workshops, and resources designed to elevate your craft. Don’t wait for the ‘right’ moment—the right moment is now! Jump in and start transforming your creative journey today.

Let's Write in Community

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 11 Sep 2024 17:30:03 GMT

Let's Write in Community

by Becky Murdoch

While everyone else seems to be celebrating the start of the "ber" months, those of us in LA are facing 100-degree temps! It’s been a hot and exhausting week, and I haven’t felt like moving much—but luckily, writing doesn’t require a lot of movement! I spent the weekend putting the final touches on my latest blog post and started drafting this newsletter.

If you’ve been following The Spark, you might remember that about a year ago, I mentioned my intention to start writing. And I did—but it’s been a slow process. Sitting down to write can be tough since I’m an extrovert, and working solo isn’t my natural mode. Fun fact—I love to write at church! I take my journal to multiple services, and the more I write, the more I find myself truly paying attention to what’s being said. I also thrive in our writers’ groups and the Project Accelerator. Even though I’m working on my own project, I don’t feel alone. Now that I’m down to one job, I’ve been able to write more often, usually in the mornings. I like the process, but I wish it would go a bit faster.

The fact that I get so much work done during our writing groups is why I'm very excited to offer you time to work on your creative projects (writing or otherwise) at our upcoming Writing Retreat in October! While I may not get much writing done that weekend, I love creating an inspiring environment for you to thrive. This retreat is all about giving you the space and encouragement to focus on your craft, whether you’re a seasoned writer or just starting out.

Join us for a weekend where creativity and self-expression come to life. You’ll have dedicated time to work on your personal projects, participate in workshops, and engage with a supportive community of fellow creatives.

It's the perfect opportunity to recharge and make progress in your writing journey!

Synth Pop Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 04 Sep 2024 17:15:00 GMT

Check out our September Mixtape to SPARK your creativity!

Synths, drum machines, eye liner - a retrospective of some of the best music made by man and machine.

Compiled by DJMacro.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Sylvia Alloway: A Creative Journey in Theater

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 04 Sep 2024 17:15:00 GMT

Sylvia Alloway | Director

To start with, why not tell us a little bit about who you are, what you do, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space?

I am Sylvia Alloway, but in certain circles, I am known simply as “Steve’s mom.” I’m originally from Wheaton, Illinois, but as an adult, I moved to Chicago to pursue a career as an actress. I lived there for six years doing mostly children’s theater and voiceover. While work wasn’t always steady (yes, I worked in restaurants), I did get a fair number of jobs and more than one lead part.

When work got scarce, I moved to Los Angeles. I had no dreams of being a star. I simply wanted to get some work – extras, bit parts, whatever. Meanwhile, I worked in a restaurant. I got an agent and a headshot, but no work. At the time, dark hair and dark eyes were NOT an advantage and, according to almost everybody, voiceover was a “closed field.” I just wasn’t a California girl.

So, I worked in a restaurant, where I met my husband, Dale. Still no work, but now I didn’t mind so much. Dale and I had a wonderful marriage. He passed away in 2015.

Steve connected with Epiphany Space in 2017, and that very year Spirit OnStage [SOS] used Epiphany Space (literally) as a venue for our annual Christmas show. Steve joined the group, and I tagged along and got to know some of the people. (Hi, Becky!)

You run a small theater group called Spirit OnStage. How did the group get started? How did the name come about? How has it evolved from its hue beginnings to now?

The seed was planted by the pastor of the first church I attended when I came to LA. Rev. Jack Heinson had been a trapeze artist in the circus. He permitted skits in church and even acted in them himself. After a lifetime of being told that I possessed the one talent that could not be used for the Lord, here was a man – a whole church – who proved this idea untrue. It was Reverend Heinson who showed me that the church could welcome performers and use them to serve God.

Seeing that church could use “chancel drama,” as they called it then, to make spiritual points inspired me to ask the pastor of my small church in Culver City to allow me and whoever else I could recruit to perform short plays based on the Bible in the worship service. I rounded up some other interested people and began to write short skits for us to perform for the congregation. We were a modest hit.

We moved and found another church. This time I didn’t hesitate. The people at Calvary Lutheran were ready and willing to help me do theater. We were scheduled to perform once a month in the worship service.

Participation increased. We graduated to a wide variety of full-length, evening plays. (No, God does not object to fun!) And where were we getting the material? Mostly from me, because we had no money for royalties. Then teenage Steve joined in with an original play called “Medieval Turmoil in Pentalia,” a kingdom he made up. This was the first show we did under the banner of “Spirit OnStage,” a name meant to evoke the presence of God’s Spirit in our endeavors. As more people joined us who wanted to act and direct, we mounted a few published plays, including “A Hatful of Rain,” “You Can’t Take It with You” and “How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying” (with Steve in the lead). Our shows even made money! Eventually, even Dale joined in.

But times change. Calvary Lutheran’s congregation began to dwindle. Some people had taken a marked dislike to us. A short letter from the president of the church council served as a pink slip. Were we ready to stand on our own?

Yes! We found other venues. We had instituted an annual Christmas musical at Calvary (Steve and I each wrote songs for it), and we continue that tradition to this day in various venues – including Epiphany Space. Steve and I alternate writing and directing from year to year. This year was our 23rd.

I am so thankful for Epiphany Space! The knowledge that my son has a group of friends that share not only his passions, but his faith, gives me comfort as I watch the world spinning out of control. How I wish I had had such a group during my acting/writing career!

You’ve worn a lot of hats over the years—both literally and figuratively. You’re an actress, a writer, a director, a singer… What are some of the artistic projects/endeavors you’ve done that you’re most proud of?

For myself - The first professional show I ever did was Rogers and Hammerstein’s “Cinderella.” I played the lead, because of my voice, I was told. No one in my life had ever told me I had an exceptional voice. Who knew?

For SOS - During Covid, we began doing shows on Zoom. At first, it was just us, each in our own living room reading our parts. But gradually, we discovered backdrops, sound effects, music, puppets, and even outdoor locations. Once we got going, we began posting one play a month (Steve and I took turns writing), recording live on the Spirit Onstage Facebook page, and then saving the recordings. They are still there, all 23 of them if you want to watch one.

But hands down, our greatest undertaking was the Spirit OnStage trip to Kazakhstan. In 2016 a missionary friend of mine asked if I would join his team in the Central Asian former Soviet satellite in teaching a two-week English program to Russian speakers. I did, for three years in a row.

In 2019, thinking about a fourth trip, I had a brainstorm: Why not bring Spirit OnStage with me? What better way to learn English than through theater? We gathered the “Core Four”: Steve Alloway, Ron Frescas, Mark Braun, and me, and started on our Big Adventure.

We were connected to a local group - KELT - Kazakh English Language Theater, run by two American women, Laura and Jessica. These two arranged our “gigs” at various English schools and summer camps.

After a couple of shows, we worked out our MO: perform our presentation (a story featuring Aldar Kose, a popular Kazakh folk hero, and assorted short, humorous English language skits and poems) and then invite the audience to join us for theater games.

There were ups and downs, but the majority of our audience (mostly children and teens) loved the show and had a great time interacting with us during the games.

For all four of us, it was the experience of a lifetime.

Also, what’s your favorite actual hat that you’ve worn onstage?

A big, fancy straw hat about the size of a Jeep tire, replete with very large, fluffy feathers, full-blown artificial roses, a border of lilies of the valley with outsized leaves, and of course, a shiny red ribbon. It was made by an artistic friend for a millinery class. I wore it for a London-style music hall sketch.

I know you particularly love doing children’s theater and have a fair amount of experience with that. What is it about children’s theater that appeals to you, and how did you first get into it?

How did I first get into it? Oh dear, I have to make a confession on this one. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to act, and my parents did NOT want me to act. As a senior in high school, I auditioned - without their permission - for a local professional theater near our home in suburban Chicago (professional plays at night, children’s plays on Saturdays with mostly young, unpaid actors). I didn’t expect much. A few days later, the director called me. I had the female lead. It was a story from the Arabian Nights. I was to play Princess Nouranahair, daughter of Caliph Haroun al Rashid, Sister of the Stars, Queen of the Moon, Niece of All the Universe!

I broke the news to my folks, and, while they disapproved of acting, they disapproved even more of breaking a promise to work for someone.

So, there I was, onstage with all those little eyes looking at me hopefully. They laughed at the jokes, gasped at the perils, and cheered when the evil villain got his comeuppance. As I looked at their beautiful faces during curtain call, I thought, “I made children happy. Theater can make children happy!” I was thrilled.

The thrill never wore off. Even when I became a professional, greeting the kids afterward and signing autographs (with the character’s name), I was still awed by the power of theater.

Little did I know that children’s theater would become one of my main missions in life.

Who have been some of your biggest influences, particularly in your writing?

Writing came naturally to me. Almost from the time I could hold a pencil I was writing stories and poems. The talent was hereditary. My mom, a very good writer, spent much of her free time writing journals, stories, poems, and, of all things, comedy sketches and songs to be performed by her and my dad at parties. I guess acting is hereditary, as well. On vacations, she always kept a journal of our adventures.

Sometimes she would let me write an entry. She didn’t specifically “teach” me to write, except by example. I simply took in the skill by a kind of osmosis.

Who inspires you?

An enthusiastic audience. Hearing them laugh or sigh, or suddenly go silent at a dramatic moment is what theater people live for. And children are uninhibited, not afraid to laugh out loud, or boo the bad guy, or join in a song. Compliments afterward, the occasional fan letter, and a wide-eyed “Wow!” are great. But a positive audience reaction tells me that I’ve done my job – brought joy to children.

Where do you see Spirit OnStage going in the future?

The school where we used to perform is gone now, but I have an idea for something similar. At the moment I am lobbying the officials at my church to allow SOS to put on one of our Bible story plays (”Noah”) on a Saturday afternoon (NOT during worship. They’re very strict about that). My goal (which I haven’t mentioned to them yet) is to perform at the church on a regular schedule and advertise it to the public as an outreach.

In an ideal world, what’s your dream project?

Several years ago, I began to write a musical based on the Book of Ruth. I pictured myself as Naomi. I got about halfway through and had even written down the music of a couple of songs - wrote out the notes in my primitive handwriting on music paper. I showed one song to my church choir director, and he added harmonies and flourishes. It sounded pretty good. Then I started thinking about a new approach, maybe a different style… And somehow, I didn’t get back to it.

I would like to finish that project, and, as long as we’re dreaming here, produce it in a real theater, with full accompaniment, authentic costumes…You get the idea.

And finally, what advice would you give to someone looking to pursue their passion in theater?

The advice seasoned actors gave to me was always, “Forget it.” But I didn’t heed that advice, and probably nobody reading this would either.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be a working actor or even a “star”. Go for it.

Still, you must hold such a dream lightly. Making the dream an obsession could deprive you of relationships, outside activities, recreation, social life, and even your dedication to God. And then, if the years go by, and you do not achieve your goal, you will have nothing left. Take a walk down Hollywood Boulevard at night and see for yourself.

But maybe God doesn’t want you to be a star. Maybe he wants you to be a blessing. If you have a heart for theater, somehow you will always find a way to express it in a way that inspires others. Godspeed.

Finding the Fun: How to Navigate Your Journey's Boring But Necessary Bits

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 28 Aug 2024 23:33:49 GMT

Finding the Fun: How to Navigate Your Journey's Boring But Necessary Bits
By Steven W. Alloway

“In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun, and snap! The job’s a game!” As is often the case, Mary Poppins had some very good life advice, which can be applied to adulthood just as much as to childhood. Perhaps even more so. Because while children have chores that take up a few hours each day, as adults, we have jobs, which can represent a full third or more of our lives—and which can, at times, be quite drudgerous. So if anyone needs to find the element of fun, it’s us.

Now, I’m lucky enough to write for a living. I know I’m lucky, because whenever I tell someone what I do for a living, they say, “Wow, you get to get paid for writing? You’re so lucky!”

And on some level, they’re right. I get to do what I love. I’d rather be writing than just about any of the other jobs I’ve had in my lifetime—except maybe that time I did background for Grey’s Anatomy, and craft services included a custom omelet station.

But even though I love it, that doesn’t mean the writing I do can’t be mind-numbingly boring some days. For one thing, there are different levels of “writing for a living.” I think when I tell people I’m a writer, they picture scripts and novels, or at least essays, and think pieces on some popular website. That’s not what I do.

Instead, the article I was just assigned to write today is called, “Prepping Your Home for Sale on a Budget.” What do I know about prepping your home for sale on a budget? Absolutely nothing. Yet. But give me an hour, and I’ll be able to pretend I know absolutely everything about it, for 600 words. Then it’s on to the next article, whose topic might be anything from gardening tips to air conditioning maintenance to the technical ins and outs of marketing automation software.

On a good day, I’ll write half a dozen of these articles. Some of it is genuinely fascinating. Some of it is decidedly not. Like any job, there are good days and bad days, fun tasks and boring tasks. But all of it has to be done. So how do I push through and get it all finished, regardless? I find the element of fun.

Of course, Mary Poppins had a bit of a cheat in that department. She used magic. Beds made themselves, and toys marched into the toy boxes of their own volition. It’s easy to find fun in doing your chores when your chores are actually doing themselves. Most of us don’t have that luxury. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t still some fun to be had.

So how do you find the fun in something you have to do? Start by breaking it down into its individual elements. What are the different steps you have to do to accomplish this task? What does each step entail?

Now, what is it that you enjoy about the job you’re doing? What drew you to this job in the first place? Is there a way to inject some of that joy into your current task? What about the current step you’re doing? Is there anything interesting about it? Is there anything that could be interesting about it?

As a writer, one of the things I enjoy is playing with words. It’s not always easy with the things I write, but if you know where to look, there are still ways to get a little silly. One of my favorite articles I ever wrote, a factual article about saving energy through appliance maintenance, opened with the line, “The Kansas City area is facing a threat of vampires!” The client published that on their website, and I’m very proud of it.

Or, did you know that it’s possible just to invent your own words? Not only can nobody stop you, if your word is interesting and useful enough, other people might start using it too!

With the permission (nay, encouragement!) of an editor at Merriam-Webster, I did this a number of years ago. I coined the word “mobilely” to refer to things now done on your phone from anywhere, that once had to be done from a specific location, such as on your computer, in a store, etc.

I spent years inserting “mobilely” into as many articles, for as many clients, as I possibly could, in the hope that it would gain enough widespread usage to wind up in the dictionary. It never did catch on, and most of my editors actually removed it from the final copy, but still, it was something I always looked forward to.

(In fact, keen observers, might even notice that I did something similar in the opening paragraph of this very article. Drudgerous. New adjective form of drudgery. Tell your friends.)

I’ll also put in song lyrics, pop culture references, or just cool words I happen to like. (I once opted to forgo putting the word “balderdash” into an article I was writing, and I have regretted it ever since.) These are little, seemingly insignificant things, and 95% of them, nobody is ever going to notice them but me. But these little bits can mean the difference between a boring article that I struggle to find motivation for and an amusing game I look forward to playing.

This can be done with just about anything that you otherwise might struggle to get done. Doing housework? Have a dance party with your broom, mop, or vacuum. Data entry? Look for interesting or unusual names of people, streets, towns, etc. Craft a story about them in your mind.

On a really long drive somewhere—or have a regular commute in heavy traffic every day? Look for cool street signs that could be character names. This works particularly well if you can find a series of several street names in a row that work well together. I have a whole melodrama in my head from many years ago, when I had to commute back and forth from the Valley to Venice every day, starring the coquettish heroine, Rose Marine Ashland, the noble hero, Beethoven Walgrove Lincoln, and the dastardly villain, Wilshire Montana.

Also, in almost anything you’re doing, music helps enormously. Or podcasts or audiobooks, or whatever you feel like listening to. I like old-time radio dramas. For a couple of months this summer, most of my dishes were getting done to episodes of the 1945 serial “Superman Vs. The Atom Man.”

In the end, there’s no such thing as a perfect job. Even if you are lucky enough to get paid to do what you love, there will still be days when it’s the last thing in the world you want to do. Background on the set of Grey’s Anatomy may have been a party for a day, but I’m confident that even that would have become a chore if I’d kept doing it. 95% of background work is sitting around doing nothing while you wait for instructions, and that’s not something I would choose as a career. And even custom omelets would get tiresome after a while.

Despite the drawbacks, despite the fact that it’s still not quite where I want to be, I am grateful every day that I’m able to make my living as a writer, and when it comes down to it, there’s no other career I’d rather have. Still, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing — especially if it’s a choice between working on my latest story or play, or helping residents of Midland, Michigan learn how to prep their home for sale on a budget.

And I know I’m not the only one. Everyone goes through this sometimes. In fact, this is a good thing. That dissatisfaction with where we are now is what pushes us towards our goals for the future. But it can also be frustrating. No matter where you are in life and what you’re striving for, there will always be things you wish you didn’t have to do and days when you’d rather be doing almost anything than the task at hand.

But if you can find that element of fun, it can get you through those parts you don’t necessarily like and help you focus on the parts you do—while not losing sight of the thing that drew you to this in the first place. (As far as your job is concerned, anyway. For housework tasks, the overarching purpose doesn’t work as well. Those just need to be done. I’m sorry.)

The element of fun is different for every person and for every task, but it’s always there if you know how to look for it. I can’t guarantee that it will make every task you undertake become a piece of cake. There will still be challenges. There always are. But with a little luck and a little ingenuity, that spoonful of sugar can help the medicine to go down, if not in a most delightful way, then at least a palatable one.

Playing For Health | Part 2

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 14 Aug 2024 17:02:10 GMT

Playing For Health | Part 2

By Del Herring

What keeps most adults from playing like children? There are significant social pressures to conform. Many of us have embedded messages in our heads, perhaps from parents, teachers, or other authority figures that tell us that we must not “waste” time in nonproductive activities. However, research suggests that it’s not a waste of time.

An interesting corollary about play was proposed by researcher Brian Sutton-Smith (1924-2015), a pioneer in the study of play:

The opposite of play isn’t work. It’s depression.

These words underscore the importance of play being both an activity and a mental state—a state that is as light and fulfilling as depression is dark and draining.

Gordon Burghart, who studies play in animals, including non-mammals, outlines five criteria he must see to consider an animal’s activity play:

Play is not fully functional in the form in which it is expressed.
Play is voluntary, spontaneous, and is done for its own sake.
Play is incomplete, exaggerated, or precocious.
Play is repeated but is not carried out exactly the same way each time.
Play is initiated by healthy animals free of stress.

Some researchers disagree on whether animals, especially non-mammals like members of the crocodile family or an octopus can truly play. Crocodiles have been seen repeatedly sliding down river embankments for no apparent reason other than the fun of it. An octopus may play with an object by jetting its siphon at it. Other than the creature’s amusement, there seems to be no other reason for these behaviors. Still, some researchers are skeptical.

One of the hardest lines to define is the difference between play and exploration. Skeptics say that the octopus jetting its siphon at an object is exploring the object, testing for a reaction. Similarly, a sliding crocodile might be exploring the terrain of an embankment; such knowledge might make it easier for the crocodile to chase down prey. However, the skeptics have skeptics. Kerrie Lewis, who studies play in non-human primates, says:

It may be hard to define play, but you know it when you see it.

In summary, play is doing something for the fun of doing it. It feels good. That might prompt the question: Why do things we did as kids in the name of play not feel the same to us as adults? Is jumping into a pile of leaves no longer fun? Do our minds simply anticipate the additional raking work that the moment of fun entails and squelch the interest? The researchers haven’t answered this question.

Some people aren’t very good at play. They feel instinctively that it’s a waste of time., or it generates negative feelings such as guilt. They feel anxious about engaging in something that is essentially self-pleasuring, perhaps feeling it’s selfish, or too close a parallel to masturbation. Perhaps, with practice and awareness of its deep biological significance and power, play can become the natural antidepressant it’s supposed to be.

Free play once dominated children’s after-school schedules, but now, organized sports dominate. It’s easy to see there’s a big difference and many kids are growing up without much free play. With this loss of play, will we see an increase in violence? Maybe we already have.

Summarizing the experts, a distilled definition of play comes to this:

Play is pleasant independent of outcome.
Play can be productive but need not be.
Play is voluntary and not directed.
Play does not require one to reach a level of skill or mastery to be enjoyable.
Play can be fractional: an activity can be partly play (playful) up to 100 percent pure play.

Some challenging activities may become play once a level of mastery is obtained, such as sailing or surfing. Do video games count? Well, a while back I set aside video games because I didn’t want to invest hours moving bits and bytes around on a computer chip, only to have it all disappear when the game was over. I felt guilty about the nonproductive activity, even though it was fun at the time. Now, I can turn that around and see the very definition of play.

Can we, as artists, renew our minds with play? Nourish our creativity? That’s a matter for independent study, but because biology has dedicated brain-core circuitry to play, it’s well worth a few experimental endeavors. Since play is wired into humans and other mammals, and probably reptiles and invertebrates like octopuses, we should respect its potential and explore its value as an active anti-anxiety “meditation” and creativity refresher.

Now, go out and play!

The Power of Play Playlist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 07 Aug 2024 19:52:21 GMT

Check out our August Mixtape to SPARK your creativity!

Throw out the rule book and have fun like a kid again.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Playing For Health | Part 1

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 07 Aug 2024 17:13:26 GMT

Playing For Health | Part 1
By Del Herring

When you think of an artist, does an image of a playful soul pop into your head? Are artists known for their ravenous appetites for play? When you imagine an artist, is the artist flicking paint at a friend, or happily, whimsically, swirling paint on a canvas with a smile? Laughing with friends? Likely not. Grumpy intensity, passion, and smoldering angst are more likely to paint the initial image in your mind, riffing on Michelangelo smashing his (later repaired) sculpture Duomo Pietà.

Artists are known for angst and depression. Who but Van Gogh has an entire book about their ear? One can find details of Hemingway’s suicide, or the drug use and death of Jean-Michel Basquiat, Amy Winehouse, and Kurt Cobain, all at age 27. If play was a part of these artists’ lives, it certainly didn’t make the news.

Play is such an ephemeral–and sometimes private–thing that it may simply not be recorded as an aspect of an artist’s life. Would we know if van Gogh played with pigeons? If daVinci threw a ball for his dog? If Frida Kahlo teased her cat with a laser pointer? Okay, we know the last one, because she died in 1954 and the first laser was made in 1960, so no, she didn’t.

Play, like an organism too soft to be fossilized, rarely becomes part of the historical record, because the amount and type of play one takes on is considered unimportant whimsy. A spat between Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci made it into the historical record, but there is no mention of whether they played checkers. Only the artist’s product and scandalous misconduct are newsworthy.

Speaking of fossils, some artists are enjoying extremely long and productive lives. Bob Dylan (b. 1941) Paul McCartney (b. 1942), Mick Jagger (b. 1943), Keith Richards (also b.1943), and Elton John (b. 1947) are all still playing—music, at least. One might wonder what sets these long-lived artists apart from artists of a similar caliber with tragically short lives. Everyone in the list above struggled with drugs but got past them without falling into the “27” chasm. What might have given these creatives the resilience that let them skirt the chasm and reach instead for the sense of purpose that inspires both productivity and longevity?

Could the difference be something that adds resilience and flexibility, namely play?

There are many mental states familiar to artists wishing to enhance their creativity and performance, ranging from meditation to chemically induced mental diversions that all the artists above have acknowledged using. Play may be an unrecognized, underdeveloped, and underused tool for building and maintaining resilient mental health and creativity.

There are a few examples of artists at play. Georgia O’Keefe (1887-1986) spent many of her 98 years camping, hiking, and exploring nature. Frida Kahlo (1907-1954) explored crafts and colorful clothing. Yayoi Kusama, now 95, hosted costume parties, and Andy Warhol (1928-1987) hosted elaborate gatherings at his studio, The Factory. Michelangelo, though not noted for play, may have exercised a playful side through poetry, as it appears he did not create his poetry with any intent to sell it or gain favor with his patrons.

Stuart Brown, MD, a psychiatrist who has studied play extensively and founded the National Institute for Play, defines play as “a state of mind that one has when absorbed in an activity that provides enjoyment and a suspension of sense of time.”

Can we highlight that?

Play is not an activity; it’s a state of mind.

Brown has studied play in humans, and with support from Jane Goodall, extended his studies into nonhuman animal play. Brown’s “play” state of mind resembles what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls flow: a mental state that may develop during work or play in which one has heightened engagement with a task, better productivity, and a reduced awareness of the passage of time.

Brown recognizes several personalities of play, and gives a celebrity example of each:

Collector (Jay Leno)
Competitor (Tom Brady)
Creator/Artist (Steve Jobs)
Director (Oprah Winfrey)
Explorer (Jonas Salk)
Joker (Jerry Seinfeld)
Kinesthetic (Gillian Lynne)**

(**someone who feels playful primarily through movement, such as dance such as choreographer Gillian Lynne.)

These blend with some occupations, which underscores the value of enjoying one’s work. However, an association with work isn’t necessary or even encouraged. An overlap with work should not diminish the interest in, or the value of pure play.

Competitors play, but part of Brown’s definition of play stipulates that the outcome should be irrelevant—the activity itself is what encourages participation. Since the outcome is clearly important to the competitor, the personality might fit better in a different primary emotion one could call winning or validation.

Brown describes a spectrum of play; it’s not an all-or-nothing deal. Unlike kids, adults rarely entertain themselves with pure play. One of the primary rules of play—what makes it play and not work—is that the outcome is irrelevant to the enjoyment of the activity. This aspect of play separates the friendly family or neighborhood soccer or match or board game from true sport: people are there to play, not to win. Still, the outcome may matter to some; those who find a loss disappointing or revel in the glory of a win may need more practice playing.

Brown’s initial interest in play stemmed from his role as an investigator in one of the first mass shooter events, way back in 1966. He found the shooter’s childhood was strict and play was virtually forbidden. The more Brown looked, the more similar cases he found: when people grow up without play, they lose resilience and empathy. They resort to violence instead of a more peaceful, caring, empathic solution. He went as far as suggesting that parents let their kids rough-and-tumble play, because like wild animals, they instinctively know the difference between play fighting and real fighting. Play fighting exercises their trust, confidence, and communication, just as it does in non-human animals.

According to play researcher Jaak Panksepp, play is one of seven primitive emotions that are wired into dedicated circuits in the core of the human brain; the others are:

Lust
Rage
Fear
Panic
Seeking
Care

Becky Murdoch | Event Producer | Creative Coach | Editor

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 31 Jul 2024 20:20:16 GMT

Becky Murdoch | Event Producer | Creative Coach | Editor

Hi, Becky! So, to start with, tell us a bit about who you are and what you do, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

Hi. I’m Becky and I’m the Director of Events at Epiphany Space though that title might be changing a bit in the near future. I love gathering people and creating an environment for creatives to thrive. I actually got involved with Epiphany Space when Cortney and I were housemates. How it started is hazy to me. Cortney and I hosted a joint event for Epiphany Space and another organization that I volunteered with and then I just started hanging out more and more at Epiphany Space. I was broke and Melissa welcomed me in, I think I started doing events to earn my keep. In 2017 an opportunity opened up for me to join the staff, so I quit my job and the rest is history.

Tell us about your time working in the music industry. What kinds of things did you do, and what was it like? Any juicy stories or cool anecdotes?

Oh my goodness, we’re going back a long way for this one. I’ve loved music (some might say, obsessively) since I was a kid and I always wanted to work in music. Working at my college radio station led me to intern at a couple of different record labels in Nashville. I worked for a few different small indie labels (trust me, you’ve never heard of them) and was a jane-of-all-trades. Being that I mostly worked in small offices I helped with A&R by listening to tons of crappy demos and passing along the good ones. I worked in marketing & PR by reaching out to the press and constantly updating press kits. I also worked in radio, developing campaigns for singles and vying for airtime at radio stations all over the country. I still love radio to this day, that was probably my favorite.

What was it like? It was the best way to spend my 20s. I got to go see bands all the time. Nashville was a really small big city. Does that make sense? It had all the amenities of a city but it was still small-town. I could decide to go see a band and go downtown alone (I always felt super safe) and end up meeting up with five other friends that decided to do the same thing. My life was really all about music when I was there.

My favorite story is of course my interview for my second internship (that turned into my first industry job). How this internship came about was really odd and probably too long to get into here. I will say that my fellow intern and I had to flee our first internship and ended up interviewing together at Absolute Records. Who flees an internship and who joint interviews for a job? We are greeted by the current receptionist/jane-of-all-trades and are escorted to the President’s office. We sit and wait and as we are waiting, I notice all the gold and platinum albums hanging on the walls. Now, this is pre-Google, I didn’t even have a computer at my apartment so I couldn’t just figure out who this guy was (when you are fleeing an internship you don’t have a lot of research time). I get up and look and all the albums were Prince albums. Now, I love Prince but I don’t know who this guy is. After the interview, I go home and call my cousin who is a Prince aficionado and I mention his name and she freaks out and then her husband freaks out and I find out that I had interviewed with Prince’s original guitarist. Wow. Rock & Roll royalty. I love that I got to work for someone that worked closely with one of my all-time favorite artists!

You recently started a record club called Liner Notes. Tell us a bit about that. What made you want to do that? What are some of the things you hope participants get out of it?

Liner Notes is kind of my journey back into music. When I stopped working in music, I kind of stopped listening to a lot of music. It’s an idea that has been rattling around in my head for a while now, years really. I didn’t know what I wanted it to be and finally decided that it was a record club. The idea is to listen to an album in its entirety, we are working through the Rolling Stone Top 100 Albums of All Time list, and discuss it. So, kind of like a book club but with records. I love actual album liner notes; love to see who artists thank and the creative design that goes into it. I especially love when lyrics are included. Honestly, the reason for starting it is mostly selfish. I wanted to start listening to more music and also listen to bands I don’t normally gravitate to. I hate to do things alone so gathering people just made sense. I hope that participants will gain a deeper appreciation for artists that they don’t typically listen to and also make new friends in the process.

In addition to your work at Epiphany Space, you also work for the Hollywood Partnership. What do you do there? Is it difficult balancing your workload there with your workload at Epiphany?

I do work for the Hollywood Partnership which is basically a business owners association for a specific area of Hollywood. We help with clean, safe & hospitality as well as business development. Most of my job is scheduling and running meetings. It’s a good gig and I have great colleagues. Since I went full-time back in January, it has been harder to manage my workload there with my workload at ES. My workday at The HP is very defined but when I’m done, I’m tired. When I get to ES, I’m coming in as everyone that coworks is winding down for the day and I want to be social, which I normally give into. I’m super extroverted. I typically get to my ES work after everyone leaves and I normally work on Saturdays. I make it sound like all I do is work, don’t worry though, I have plenty of time to play and rest!

I hear you also edit a bi-weekly interview series called The Spark. Is that anything worth mentioning? (In all seriousness, though, how did the idea for The Spark first come about, and what made you want to do it?)

The Spark? I’ve never heard of it! Aren’t we funny?!

How did the idea for The Spark come up? I don’t remember, I do remember pitching it to Melissa and working on it at the 2022 Writing Retreat in Georgia. I liked the idea of an arts journal and thought that interviews would be a good way to start. We’ve been doing this for a year now and it’s been pretty fun. I would love to expand it and am working on a few ideas! Stay tuned!

What other projects have you got in the works right now?

I think that with two jobs, expanding The Spark and launching Liner Notes I should say that’s enough but of course, there are other things. Cortney and I are working on our next Agnsty 80’s Sing-A-Long fundraiser and I’m working on the logistics of launching Epiphany Space - Detroit later this year. I have a couple of other ideas floating around but I typically have to ponder things for a while before they happen. Some of that is my procrastination and some is timing. I think Detroit will open up some unique opportunities.

What’s your dream project? With unlimited resources, what would you love to do/create?

Well, I was working on my dream project earlier this year but someone beat me to it, in a big way. I could have kept going with my version but it kind of took the wind out of my sails.

I think right now, I want to do something in a mall. I know, that’s really vague but last year at the Dickens Festival I was thinking how fun it would be to have an 80’s or 90’s event like that where you are immersed in the time period. I think a mall would be a perfect setting for that event. I was such a mall rat when I was a teenager. As malls are evolving, I think this could be a fun use of the space and might drive business as well. Maybe that’s my creative side merging with the business development world.

I would also love to have a space where my friends could come to Detroit and do their shows. I’m sure with all our talent, we could keep a space booked all year!

And finally, what advice would you give to artists and others pursuing their creative passions?

It’s rough but it’s worth it. Since leaving my job in 2017, I’ve been happier and more fulfilled even though I was making less money. That might sound a little odd since I currently have a full-time job. That’s just what was needed for this season. I think for me it was not thinking of my life/career in a linear fashion. I guess my advice would be just do what feels right to you and don’t worry about what others think. If you need the stability of a day job and want to create on the side, awesome. If you never want to work in an office again, fantastic. Everyone is different. Be open to the ebb and flow of life.

Beth Dzhiganyan | Writer

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 24 Jul 2024 19:38:51 GMT

Beth Dzhiganyan | Writer

Today, we have a Spark Rewind featuring Beth Dzhiganyan. Since her interview, Beth has started her MFA in Creative Writing at Cedar Crest College with a two-week residency at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, and will have a short story published in August.

So, Beth, to start with, why not tell us a bit about who you are and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space?

Sure! I am a mother, writer, and wife, doing property management as my full-time side hustle. I’m sort of a stay-at-work mom, work from home, live at work, kids everywhere all of the time. It’s madness. There is this great quote by Norah Roberts when she was asked about how she balances writing and kids, and she said, “the key to juggling is to know that some of the balls you have in the air are made of plastic & some are made of glass. And if you drop a plastic ball, it bounces, no harm done. If you drop a glass ball, it shatters, so you have to know which balls are glass and which are plastic and prioritize catching the glass ones.” I have had to learn that my creativity is a glass ball, even if what I want to do with it on a given day may not be. This has been crucial to my mental health.

I started attending an Artist’s Way group at Epiphany Space back in 2015. My oldest daughter Aria was a few months old at the time and I was really struggling to come out of a fog of exhaustion and stress. I didn’t feel creative at all. I barely felt human. The Artist’s Way was amazing! Those creative tools are phenomenal, as well as the community and support system our group built. All cliches aside, it quite literally changed my life. It was my path back to writing again, and really, back to myself. That was seven years ago, and a core of us still meet regularly!

Now, you’re a writer... What is it you write? How did you first get started writing?

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing. Even before I knew how to write, I would dictate stories to my mom, and she would write them down for me. We have home recordings of me saying I want to be an “awthow” when I grow up. ( That’s “author” for those who don’t speak Child Speech Impediment). Writing has truly been a singular focus of my life. I started with short stories, fell in love with screenwriting and studied that in college, wrote plenty of angsty poetry in my day, a little blogging here and there, etc. Currently, I am working on a book series.

What are some of your favorite things you’ve written? What are you most proud of, and why?

This is a hard question for me! Hmm. I’m not sure. I guess I can say, the most formative thing I have written, and probably the most precious to me, is a one-act play I wrote in college about two young friends dealing with the death of a peer for the first time. A friend of mine had just died in a water rafting accident, and writing the play became the way I processed and grieved that loss alongside my characters. I can’t say that the play was all that great, but it has always stuck with me and I keep coming back to it. I wrote a feature-length screenplay inspired by it, and even now, though the characters have evolved substantially and the plot is entirely different, those two characters from that play are the inspiration for two of the characters in the book series I am currently working on.

What’s your writing process like? Where do you get inspiration from, and how does that inspiration evolve into an idea and eventually a finished product?

I am a pantser to a fault. Pantsers, as opposed to plotters, fly/write by the seat of their pants. (I just got curious about that term and googled it. It’s an aviation term referring to the people who first flew aircraft without navigation tools or the ability to communicate with people on the ground. That is terrifying. Anyway.) I nearly always have to start by putting the pen to paper before the ideas come. I can’t think my way into anything, which means I am often terrified to write in the first place. It is one of the great paradoxes of my life. I have to write, or I'll have nothing to write. When I’m really really in a story, then I will have moments where I have to pull over to jot something down, or text myself a voice memo as I push a cart with three kids in it through a grocery store. But 99% of the time, it comes after I decide I have forgotten how to write and will never have an interesting idea ever again, but write anyway. Therefore, I desperately need accountability and deadlines. Epiphany’s writer's group has been a great source of this for me! Also having a writing partner who I send pages to regularly, whether they are any good or not, helps a lot. Strength in peer pressure.

I understand you’re doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) this year. Tell us a bit about the experience. Have you done it before?

This was my fourth time doing NaNo! I have not always set the standard 50,000-word goal for myself, but each time I have done it, it has been a phenomenal tool. The first time I heard about NaNoWriMo, I had recently had my second child, sweet Lilah who didn’t sleep for over a year and just about drove me to insanity. When a friend cornered me at church and challenged me to do NaNo and explained what it was to me, my immediate internal reaction was something like, “how very dare you, you don’t know my life, I haven’t slept in a year, my brain is applesauce, must be nice having a brain that is not applesauce, you a$$ h@%#.” But, because of my diagnosed Nice Girl Shame Syndrome (don’t suffer in silence), I said it sounded great and that I would totally look into it. And I did. And it was great. I wrote an excruciatingly terrible collection of words spanning several hundred unreadable pages… and I got the skeleton of a book I actually love out of it.

I love NaNo because it’s a community of people doing this truly audacious thing together. Writing, for me anyway, is a very solitary experience. I need it to be both solitary and in community to meet any real goals, or finish anything. (I can’t wait to cowork at Epiphany Space when my kids are all finally in school!) I also love NaNo because the goal is quantifiable. So often in art, when perfectionism is just out of focus waiting to attack, I feel paralyzed. I end up editing and re-editing until I feel completely stuck, and then that project becomes a ghost haunting me. When you have to keep going and have no time to edit, you accept your “Shitty First Draft” (thank you, Anne Lamott) for what it is, and you just keep going, and you still feel accomplished at the end of the day.

What is it about that form of writing that appeals to you? Any NaNoWriMo tips or secrets?

NaNo is extremely challenging, which is great. It helps break the perfectionism cycle and it’s an antidote for writer's block. It’s a great tool to teach yourself to just write anyway.

One year when I felt particularly stuck, I used prompts to help me through NaNo. So, instead of forcing it or reading the same page in my manuscript over and over again, I would answer writing prompts as if they were part of my novel. The prompt says to write something like your most embarrassing moment, suddenly your characters are sitting around at a party all sharing their most embarrassing moments, etc. Surprisingly, quite a bit of those random scenes ended up useful, and all of it helped me get to know my characters better.

This year, now that I am having to learn how to plan a bit more so I don’t get totally lost in my larger scale project, I made a list of scenes I knew had to happen, and when I got stuck, instead of forcing it, I would pick whatever other scene felt exciting to me that day and write that, no matter where it fell chronologically. There is time to fill in the gaps later. Like at the writer's group! Haha.

What projects have you got in the works right now? Anything you can talk about?

Definitely! My YA series is a trilogy following three girls whose lives intertwine during their Junior year of high school. All the books are at different levels of completion at the moment, but the first book in the series, The Five First Kisses of Calliope Caruso should be out to readers next year. You can sign up for updates at dizzymrslizzy.com if you want to!

And finally, what advice would you offer to others looking to get started in writing?

Read! Good writers are readers. Write as often as you can, especially when you don’t feel like it. Do your morning pages, and go on your artist dates. Find a writer’s group to keep you excited about writing, and accountable to your personal goals. Give yourself permission to write shitty first drafts and enjoy the process. Read poetry out loud, even if you don’t write poetry. Especially if you don’t write poetry. Read your own writing out loud too.

Also, one of my very favorite authors, Janet Fitch’s Writing Wednesdays are amazing. You can pretty much give yourself an MFA in creative writing by going through them. Her youtube channel is https://www.youtube.com/@janetfitchswritingwednesda1920 but you can also catch her on Facebook live on Wednesdays and interact with her directly!

Connect with Beth Dzhiganyan
Social Media: @lizzydizzywrites

Being Bad at Things for Your Own Good

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 17 Jul 2024 19:20:03 GMT

Being Bad at Things for Your Own Good
By Steven W. Alloway

In my Spark article a couple of weeks ago, I talked about how I enjoy making puppets. What I didn’t mention is that I am actually very bad at it.

“Oh, Steve, I’m sure you’re just being modest.”

No. I am exceedingly bad at puppet-making. On multiple occasions, when preparing for puppet-based shows, I have had cast members refuse to use the puppets I made for them. They’re always polite about it, of course. But one look at the blobs of paper and Scotch tape that I hand them, and people’s first reaction is always, “Oh, I’ll just make my own instead.”

But that doesn’t stop me from making puppets. I still enjoy the process of taking socks and envelopes and whatever else I have on hand and turning them into characters. I still use them myself, even if no one else will. I even take a certain amount of pride in them, even though I know that, no matter how much I practice, I will never approach the talent of my idol, Jim Henson.

There’s something very freeing in the practice of doing something that you’re bad at. It is, in my opinion, an important aspect of the Power of Play. Here are a few of the benefits of exploring the things you can’t do.

The Freedom to Make Mistakes

I’ve talked before about perfectionism and the problems it can cause. When you’re doing something you’re good at, the fear that it might not be as good as you want it to be can hinder your progress or prevent you from releasing your work to the public.

When you’re doing something you’re bad at, mistakes are part of the package. You don’t know what you’re doing, so you know you’re not going to do it right. You just do it the best you can. If something goes wrong, you can try to correct it, you can start over, or you can just push through and see what happens. The choice is yours. But whichever you choose, you don’t have to let those mistakes embarrass you or frustrate you. They’re just part of the process.

Here’s the thing, though: mistakes are part of the process when you’re doing things you’re good at, too. The best musicians still hit a wrong note every now and then. Bestselling authors still have terrible first drafts. For myself, I’ve baked more brownies than I can count, but I’m currently working with an oven I’m not familiar with, and they keep coming out massively underdone. It’s beyond frustrating. But it’s part of the process.

Doing something where you have the freedom to make mistakes without consequences can make it easier to bear mistakes in other aspects of your life. Accept it. Choose how you want to deal with it. Then move on. The more practice you can get in doing that, the less you’ll cling to perfectionism and the more open you’ll be to going with the flow. Mistakes are how we learn. And whether you’re just starting out with something or the world’s foremost expert on it, there’s always something more to be learned.

No Opinions, No Pressure

The fear of mistakes goes hand in hand with the fear of what other people will think. Submitting your work to the opinions of others is nerve-wracking. Even if there are no mistakes, per se, there’s the worry that what you’re producing isn’t up to the standard that your audience is expecting.

If I’m, say, doing a play, will the audience laugh in the right places? Will they understand the point I’m trying to make, or just give it a dismissive, “It was cute”? If any of my theater friends are in the audience, will they be comparing it to the play they saw last week that had better sets and costumes?

But the things you’re bad at… Ideally, you do them just for you. There’s no standard to meet. There are no people to impress. No opinions to worry about. It’s just about the act of doing it and the satisfaction that you get from it.

“But Steve, weren’t you talking earlier about giving your shoddy puppets to cast members and having them be summarily rejected?”

Well, yes. But that’s just because the concept of doing things you’re bad at for their own sake is something I’m still learning for myself. And in fact, hearing other people’s opinions of my puppets is one of the things that’s helped to drive the lesson home for me.

Other people don’t like my puppets. But I like them. They’re nowhere near Muppet standards and never will be, but I think they look pretty cool, and I’m proud of them. So I’ll make them for myself, and I’ll use them for myself, and I’ll enjoy it. And you can’t stop me. So there.

Rekindling Old Passions

Sometimes, the things that you’re bad at are things that you used to be good at. For me, this makes it even more frustrating. I used to be able to do this! Why can’t I do it anymore? What’s the point of continuing to try, when I see how far short it falls of what it used to be?

When I was a kid, I used to play piano. In fact, I was pretty good! I was never able to sight read, but after several years of lessons, I had a pretty good repertoire of pieces I could play, including some fairly complex/difficult ones.

Eventually, though, I stopped taking lessons. When I stopped taking lessons, I stopped practicing, and when I stopped practicing, I lost most of the skills I had developed. I can still read music. With effort, I can still pick out a melody. But it’s been ages since I’ve been able to sit down and play a song.

For years, I’ve been saying, “I should start practicing again,” and for years, I’ve not done it, mostly because I know how much I’ve lost and don’t want to confront the fact that I’m now bad at something I used to be good at.

However: the house where I’m staying for the summer has a piano. So occasionally, I’ll sit down and mess around on it. Just plinking out melodies and occasionally jotting down some chicken-scratch notes on a piece of paper… But you know what? It’s fun. No, it doesn’t sound like it used to. But there’s nobody around to hear it but me and the Corgis, and if they’re judging me, they’ve got the good manners to keep it to themselves.

I’m sure most of you have things like that too: things you used to be good at, but that you gave up, for one reason or another. So now you don’t do it anymore, because you can’t give it the time, the effort, the commitment that you used to. Well, I’m here to tell you, you don’t have to. Just mess around once in a while and see what it’s like. If it was fun before, chances are, it’ll be fun again.

Broadening Your Horizons

In addition to getting back to old things you used to enjoy, embracing things you’re bad at allows you to try new things and gain a new perspective. Which can in turn benefit you in the art that you ARE good at.

For one thing, any art is stimulated by new experiences. Doing new things gives you new ideas and helps you push your own boundaries and expand your limits. It also helps stimulate the brain in different ways, forging more neural pathways and increasing your overall brain activity—which in turn helps you in your creativity. On the other hand, if the only artistic endeavors you engage in are things that you’re already good at, then you’ll just end up in a rut, dealing with creative blocks.

Getting Better

Now, I know some people will try to fight me on this. I’ve seen articles and memes arguing that doing things you’re bad at isn’t about getting better at them, but about enjoying those things for their own sake.

I agree with that to some extent. If you’re worrying that you’re not good enough or comparing yourself to others who are better, then you’re missing the point of doing things you’re bad at. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still be proud of your progress. And if you keep at it, you can’t help but make progress.

Now, I know I’ll never be Jim Henson. No matter how much I practice and hone my skills, I’ll never even get close to that level of talent in my puppet-making. If I use that as my metric, I’ll only make myself miserable, and I won’t get any of the benefits of doing something that I’m bad at.

But even so, my puppets are better now than they were a few years ago. I’ve learned some cool new tricks. I’ve incorporated some different materials. I’ve gotten more of a feel for functionality and how to make them so they can be operated better.

They still leave a lot to be desired. They still use considerably more Scotch tape than I imagine Jim Henson ever did. But nonetheless, I’m proud of the puppets that I’ve made and the things I’ve been able to do with them. When push comes to shove… Maybe they’re not so bad after all.

Come on Barbie, Let's Discover the Power of Play

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 10 Jul 2024 19:04:08 GMT

Come on Barbie, Let's Discover the Power of Play

By Becky murdoch

If you’re like me you probably have a ton of stuff going on ALL THE TIME. I have my day job, all the fun things I do with Epiphany Space, personal projects, and a social life. I typically work six days a week and take one day off but sometimes, I’m so tempted to work that extra day.

This weekend was one of those weekends, I was so busy and didn’t get a lot of work-work done. I almost headed to Hollywood on Sunday but after church, I decided to head home instead. I had plans to see "Sound of Freedom" on Sunday night so that was going to be a nice break. We got the times mixed up and ended up seeing "Barbie" instead. I’m so happy we did!

Barbie was my absolute favorite toy when I was a kid (...well…I did love my Cabbage Patch Kids a whole lot too…I was an 80s kid…what can I say?). I only played Barbies with my friend Jenny and we played out elaborate storylines and created these mega-dream houses (where we lived communally in Hollywood…somehow from a young age, I knew this was the only way to afford a house in L.A.).

This isn’t a review of "Barbie." You can love it or hate it, I don’t care. I loved it. I laughed harder than I have in a long time and I actually cried (wasn’t expecting that). I love that I got to see Greta Gerwig play with Barbie. It ignited a sense of play that I needed. If I had my Barbies here in LA, I probably would have been playing with them on Sunday night.

What has sparked your sense of play lately?

Wow. I wrote that almost a year ago and I really struggle to think of a time that I felt a sense of play again…until last Friday night.

My friend and I hit the road and headed to the Forum in Inglewood to see New Kids on the Block. I’m a total fangirl; it was my 17th show. Somehow, it still feels like I’m 13 and seeing them again for the first time. I think it’s because I let my 13-year-old self come out and just love these five guys with my whole being. I screamed so much I lost my voice, I danced all night and then went home and ate ice cream. It was glorious!

Then Saturday morning, I was back at work. Mostly because I had to run Project Accelerator. My project did not get accelerated. I was so tired.

Play looks a little different for me now.

Play often time needs to be followed by rest.

Play sometimes needs to be scheduled.

Play needs to be more than watching television.

Today, play looked like free writing a bit of a blog post and hanging some art in my bedroom. It's gathering art supplies for a project I've been meaning to work on for the last 6 months. Maybe starting a new puzzle or finishing my paint-by-number. It's looking at the list by my bed of things I can do instead of watching Fraiser for the billionth time. It's looking at my calendar and blocking off free time to play so I don't feel guilty.

Play is no longer as easy as walking into the Barbie wonderland that was my childhood basement.

I'm off to schedule some play.

Also, I’m watching Barbie again! Here’s to a summer of play!

Steven W. Alloway | No Coins for the Well: 10 Artist Dates That Cost Nothing

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 04 Jul 2024 02:06:10 GMT

Steven W. Alloway
No Coins for the Well: 10 Artist Dates That Cost Nothing

I’m currently enjoying a month-and-a-half-long stay in Paso Robles, along the Central Coast of California. For the second time, my friends have asked me to dog sit for them while they go camping. So while they take their vacation, I get to take mine too.

It’s a perfect opportunity to engage myself creatively. If you’re familiar with Julia Cameron and The Artist’s Way, then you know the concept of the Artist Date. For those who don’t, it’s a way of getting in touch with your inner artist and refilling your creative well. You take yourself on a solo outing to do something that interests you. Something big, something small, just anything that sounds fun. In town or out of town, vacation or working, it’s something all artists are encouraged to do regularly.

Last year when I was here, I went to Hearst Castle, I bought fresh produce (and delicious honey) at the local farmers’ market, took a VR tour at a museum, and more. This year, though… I’m broke. I’ve got enough for food and a little gas, but for now, that’s basically it. Not the retreat I was hoping for, but it doesn’t mean I can’t take time for fun and interesting activities to fill the creative well. I know I’m not the only one faced with this situation right now, so for all those in a similar boat, here are 10 Artist Dates you can take yourself on, wherever you are, that cost nothing.

Visit the Library

Browsing the books on a shelf, exploring a section or a subject you don’t ordinarily take time for, can inspire and excite you. But books are just the beginning of what libraries have to offer. Most of them also have CD and DVD sections, so you can browse for music and movies that might not otherwise be on your radar. Many libraries have regular performances, classes, and other events—not just for kids, but for adults, too. Some larger libraries offer 3D printing, genealogical services, and a host of other things. And some, like the L.A. Central Library, just have really cool architecture that’s worth exploring on its own. Call your local library—or one that’s a little further but looks interesting—and find out what they’ve got going on. Or just head over there and experience it for yourself.

Museum Free Day

There are museums dedicated to all sorts of things, from different art styles to different music genres to historical eras to science, engineering, natural history, and more. And most museums have a day, at least once a year (if not oftener), when you can get in free. Research the museums in your area and make a list of the ones that interest you. Then find out when their free days are and plan a trip.

Photo Shoot

What’s worth seeing in your area? Someplace you’ve always wanted to go, or haven’t visited in a while. Head there, bring your phone, and take cool pictures. It can be a park, a local monument, a street corner… whatever you like the look of. For a bonus, put together a cool costume and some props to bring with you and create a character. You can take selfies or flag down random passersby to take your photo for you with different backdrops (you’ll get a few weird looks, but not as many as you think—and you may even make a friend!). Then when you’re done, go through the photos and make up a story about the adventure your character went on.

Window Shopping

Just because you’re broke doesn’t mean you can’t dream. Go to a store you’d never, ever be able to afford. Make a list of the things you’d get if you suddenly achieved great wealth and success. If it’s a clothing store, try on some outfits you’d love to have—or some you’d never actually wear, just to see what they look like. If it’s a food store, look around for free samples.

Walking Tours

A guided tour of the highlights of your city usually costs money. But if you Google self-guided walking tours, you can find them for free in most major metropolitan areas. There are apps you can download or just lists of stops and the route you take to get to each of them, along with a blurb about the historical or cultural significance of each place. There may be different types of tours, too, depending on what you’re interested in. Are you into architecture? The local theater scene? True crime? There’s probably a tour for you—or a list of places that can be turned into a tour, with a little planning.

The Road Not Taken

Whether by car or on foot, you probably have at least a few routes that you take regularly. Do you ever find yourself saying, “What if I turned left instead of right here?” or “What if I got off the freeway at this other exit, just before or just after the one I usually take?” No matter how long you’ve lived in your particular location, there’s probably a road you’ve never gone down or a part of the area you’ve never explored. Go the wrong direction and see what’s there. (If, like me, you have a tendency to get lost, be sure to have your phone on you, to guide you back if need be.)

Experimental Cooking

Take a look at what’s in your fridge and in your pantry. What can you make with these ingredients, without having to go to the store? For a lot of us, this is just called weeknight dinner, but here’s the twist: put some ingredients together that you wouldn’t ordinarily think to combine. What would happen if you put a fresh basil leaf on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? What if you used maple syrup instead of honey in your honey garlic chicken? Or added a dollop of jam? Or some nutmeg? Or that sauce packet you got from a fast food place? I love to cook, but I can be hesitant to experiment, especially if I’m cooking for other people. What if my idea doesn’t work, and I ruin everyone’s dinner—or worse yet, dessert? But right now, it’s just me, so I feel freer to take those risks. Worst case scenario, no one’s dinner is ruined but mine. Best case scenario, I come up with a new recipe that I can impress my friends with when I get back!

Neighborhood Flower Tour

What kind of flowers and other plants are people growing in your area? I’ve lived in my house for years, taken many walks through different parts of the neighborhood, but it was only a few months ago that I started to notice the amazing array of flowers in my neighbors’ front yards, of all different shapes and sizes and splashes of all different colors and color combinations. A few of the flower types I recognize, most of them I don’t. But whether or not you’re a person who knows flowers, it’s something worth exploring. Go around your neighborhood and check out the front yards to see what’s growing—as well as what cool lawn decorations they have. Take photos if you want, try to identify the species if you want… Or just stop and smell the flowers.

Write a Letter

Note that “write” doesn’t have to mean “send.” You can send it if you want. Write a letter to an old friend you haven’t heard from in a while and ask what they’re up to. Or you could write a letter that’s just for you. Write to a loved one who’s passed on. Write to your future or past self—or to your ancestors or descendants. Write to a fictional character or historical figure. Write a letter FROM a fictional character or historical figure. Handwrite it on cool stationery if you have it—or find some cool stationery patterns online, if you don’t. The possibilities are endless.

Make Puppets

You can make puppets out of absolutely anything. My favorite method, which I learned from an old Jim Henson video , is with an envelope. That same video shows how you can make them out of wooden spoons, fruits and vegetables, scraps of cloth, and more—not to mention the old standbys, socks and paper lunch bags. Take whatever you have lying around and make a puppet out of it. Give the puppet a voice. Give them a backstory. Build a love interest for them. Compare yourself to Dr. Frankenstein and wonder if you should be allowed to wield this much power. Realize that there is no one to stop you, and the puppets are yours to build, manipulate, and direct as you wish. Laugh maniacally.

Not having any money can be frustrating. There are so many shows, events, festivals, and outings I would love to go to, but that I end up missing because they’re just too expensive. But there are also so many things that CAN be done, even while broke. The opportunities are there to explore, to discover, to experiment. You can refill your well wherever you are and with whatever you have. It just takes a little creativity.

Shanaya Allen | Creator, Artisan

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 27 Jun 2024 01:24:42 GMT

Shanaya Allen | Creator | Artisan

So, Shanaya, tell us a bit about who you are and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

I got involved when I met Melissa [Smith] and she invited me to the events. I went to an Artist and Creatives meetup, then I decided to participate in the Writer’s Retreat last year. It was a fun experience and it really changed my perspective.

You’re a talented writer. What is it that you write, and how did you first get started?

Thank you! It’s funny because oftentimes I do not see myself as a writer. My friend Rebekah and I co-founded a women’s ministry called The Uprooting Ministries where we advocate for women’s freedom in all areas of their lives. We usually write blog posts for that. Alternatively, I write songs that come to my heart. I do not share them aside from my husband, but maybe 2023 will be the year that I share something I’ve written.

I understand you’re also an accomplished baker. Tell us a bit about the Whimsical Vegan Bakery and how that came about.

A few years ago, I started to go vegan for my health. Even though we have popular stores with some plant-based items, it was hard to find good vegan baked goods in my smaller city in Georgia. We had a vegan bakery in Columbus a couple of years before we launched, but they had since moved away. I decided finally that we needed more options so I went ahead and started to research, made my business plan, and started moving.

Since I started to get more into fantasy costuming, I thought it’d be fun to add a more niche element to it—something that made me happy but also attracted the nerds to something I liked. That’s how Whimsical Vegan Bakery came to be. It’s been a phenomenal response on social media, and still growing. I’m incredibly grateful for it.

Now, as a baker myself, with a particular interest in vegan baked goods, I have to ask: Have you got any practical tips for people trying to bake vegan? Any tricks of the trade you can reveal?

Look up the recipe you are trying to vegan-ize. It is hard to try to put something together in your head if you’ve never done it before. Look up a couple of recipes, see what you’re okay with purchasing/substituting to bake the item, and go from there. Then, if you want to add your own flare, tweak the recipe.

Have you got any cool projects in the works? What can we expect from you going forward?

I actually do! I’m working on launching fantasy events for this year with my business partner. The new venture will be an umbrella company for our business: Wisteria Café: A Plant-Based Eatery. We are launching our social media soon and using other ways to fundraise as well. Our fantasy events are going to help fund our restaurant and bakery space. Whimsical Vegan Bakery will also have more items and themed items coming out this year, so please watch our Instagram to see those come about! [For updates, check out their Instagram which is listed in the "Connect With Us" section below.]

And finally, what advice would you give to others looking to get started in either writing or baking? What words of wisdom would you offer?

If you want to do it, just go for it. You have the passion.

Regarding baking, start small with a few items first that have good traction before launching more. This will make sure too much product isn’t being made that people aren’t buying yet and ensure that you aren’t getting burned out with baking all the time. Please budget, because baking can be costly if you’re doing it frequently!

Now as for writing, I would say to carve out time to write and if you don’t know what to write about, try stream-of-consciousness writing, which always helps me. Just write whatever comes to mind until you find a topic you’d like to discuss. Also, have fun and pivot if something does not work out! You can always try something different or go in a way you didn’t think about.

Connect with Shanaya Allen
Instagram: @whimsicalveganbakery / @theuprootingministries

Jen Gia | Writer, Comedian

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 19 Jun 2024 18:11:40 GMT

Jen Gia | Writer | Comedian

Tell us a little bit about who you are what you do, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

Hi, I’m Jen Giangregorio but for ease of spelling, I go by Jen Gia in writing/performing contexts. I had always considered myself a writer first, gravitating toward half-hour comedies (Parks and Rec and Scrubs are among two of my favorites), and pursued that pretty hard when I got to LA. I dipped into performing stand-up as a way to see my ideas through. Having a spec script lie dormant while using it as a tool to apply to various contests did not fully highlight to me what jokes worked, and what POVs [point of view] were connecting. But stand-up taught me a lot about constructing jokes and delivering them. And, while it’s still a struggle to be in front of people or cameras, developing a strong POV and writing jokes from that perspective helped my script writing as well as put a face to a name. Later, I really enjoyed my time at improv via UCB [Upright Citizen’s Brigade] as well.

I’ve known Melissa Smith since I arrived in LA in 2008 and followed various iterations of Epiphany Space until I left in 2019. I value the time I had with that community and appreciate the care that Melissa has put into Epiphany through the years. Namely, I was part of one of the first Artist Way Groups, and that was a really good experience for me – I need to go over the book again, but it was the community that was the key! I also was part of a goals-sharing group and that was another great gathering of artists.

How did you first get into comedy? What made it something you wanted to pursue, and what has your journey been like?

I initially got into comedy by watching way too much TGIF. I think it was the Full House/Perfect Strangers combo that I connected with the strongest. I always loved to write and would write stories and scripts when I was younger. While I was part of an improv group for a short time in high school, I did not have the guts to really take on live comedy until much later in life!

Who are some of your comedy idols? Whose work has inspired you?

Right now, I am really enjoying watching Taylor Tomlinson rise to the top in the stand-up and comedy world. I think it’s great seeing talent get recognized, and it’s all well-deserved.

The people who have inspired me in the past are Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, as well as Gary Gulman, Jim Gaffigan, Bill Burr (stand-up), Mike Schur, Mitch Hurwitz, and Dan Harmon (TV producer-writer). I feel like there are so many I’m forgetting!

Are you still pursuing comedy and stand-up on the East Coast? What was that transition like? Any cool projects coming up?

At the moment, I am still taking in my new surroundings, and admit, being a bit lazy. ☺

I am planning to explore the stand-up scene in Boston – from the information I have seen, there are things happening. I have some notes for new jokes/stories and it will be interesting to see what is going to connect.

I feel inclined to go back to some of my old jokes and expand them into stories. I have a few other ideas that stretch into other mediums. What I will say is that, while at the end of the day, you have to keep yourself on track, I do miss having the gentle prodding of a community like Epiphany to nudge me toward the finish line.

Here’s hoping I have a different answer to this question this same time next year!

What would you say has been your biggest accomplishment? What are you most proud of in your creative pursuits?

Honestly, I think my biggest accomplishment has happened any time I have put myself in a new challenging arena. One of the last improv workshops I took in LA was Musical Improv, which scared me so much but really made me a better improviser. When it comes to creativity, I strive to always find ways to learn more and keep improving.

You also used to host a storytelling show called The Spork: Stories for Everyday Use. How did that come about? What inspired you to do it, and what was it like to put together?

I noticed there were many opportunities for new comics to get time at an open mic around the LA area, but there wasn’t the same opportunity for storytelling.

I put the word out and got responses from really talented people around the area. It was really interesting to produce these shows – I enjoyed getting to give people a place to share their stories and I enjoy my “Spork” message that we all have use, our stories are important and if you are inclined to tell them, then they need to be told.

I really appreciate Epiphany having the space for me to rent to host these nights! It’s a big difference since I would love to do something like that in this area and am seeking out spaces but it’s definitely not quite the same.

And finally, what advice would you give to anyone else looking to break into the comedy scene?

No one else is going to have your point of view, so don’t be afraid to try!

Connect with Jen Gia
Instagram: @jen.gia

Erin Noëlle | Singer-Songwriter

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 05 Jun 2024 21:10:07 GMT

Erin Noëlle | Singer-Songwriter

Tell us a bit about who you are and what you do, and how you first got involved in Epiphany Space.

By day, I am a program director at a non-profit that focuses on ear and hearing health. Funnily enough, this passion of mine intersects nicely with my love for music as a singer-songwriter. I stumbled upon Epiphany Space when looking for an open mic night in 2019. I was new to LA. I was deep in an online rabbit hole reading comments about different opportunities in town. Someone mentioned that their friend had just started a songwriter’s circle and listed the time and place. I had no idea what to expect, but I showed up to Epiphany Space and met Cortney Matz who led the songwriter’s circle. I had never shared any of my original songs in public before and ended up singing one of my songs to a small room for the first time.

You’re a talented singer and musician. How did you first get involved in music? When did you know it was what you wanted to do?

Like many people, I was in music lessons as a kid. This soon became overshadowed by other interests, like theater, and most of all, the demands of learning French and transitioning between school systems as my family moved. I returned to the States for college and joined an acappella group. The community and creative expression that sprang from that was a highlight of my 4 years.

It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I had grown weary of the over-achieving, degree-obsessed culture in Boston. I was restless in my job, and a deep part of me was neglected and unfulfilled. I was unsure what was next. There was a moment when I reunited with a bunch of college friends who I had not seen for several years. The entire hang consisted of touting their latest degrees and connecting from a dry mental space with no genuine heartfelt resonance. I had embraced the richness of life over the last several years working in two non-profits around education equity, traveling, developing a love for hiking, and exploring the outdoors. I felt like we were on different planes of existence. It was at that point that I vowed to leave Boston. Around that time, I also found myself surrounded by a whole new group of friends who attended Berklee College of Music. I was the “non-musician” friend who somehow “got it” and was “different”. Looking back, and after having cried my way through the War of Art and the first several chapters of the Artist’s Way, I now know that I was what you call a “shadow” artist. I was engaged in a lot of creative dabbling but never dared reveal it to anyone and was crippled by self-doubt.

It wasn’t until I moved to Los Angeles to try to integrate my various interests that I started writing songs in earnest. They came to me. Sometimes at inopportune moments. It was a very natural (and healing) response to the turbulence of moving to a new city, going through what I called a quarter-life crisis, seeking a new career path, experiencing a gutting breakup, and so much more. Songwriting was a gift to process my emotions and make something beautiful out of the mess of it all. Just as I had been in Boston, in LA I was at gigs several times a week and immersed in the local music scene—without playing in it. I was around such amazing talent and would never have considered myself deserving of singing solo in public let alone being listened to by a room full of people! But then, about a year in, a professional guitarist friend of mine coaxed out one of my songs (which I sang a cappella). His response was to tell me I should go out and play. To sweeten the suggestion, he offered to accompany me, which blew my mind. That changed everything. It flipped a switch in my brain and set the course for where I find myself now.

Who are some of the musicians who have inspired you along your journey? And what songs do you think have helped to shape your own musical style?

I was immersed in musical theatre early in life. Being around that crowd, and the bright, belting vocals that are not only expected but glorified, often left me frustrated with my voice. There were times that I felt like it was trapped inside of me as a floaty head voice. It’s when I started listening to female singers with a darker, unique, more soulful, even velvety tone, like Amy Winehouse, and Lianne La Havas, that I had a new point of reference. Their songs felt good to sing and opened a whole other world of texture and style that I could aspire to. I started to reclaim my voice instead of constantly fighting with it. Bands such as Florence and the Machine and Joseph have left a lasting imprint on my songwriting journey, with songs like Cosmic Love and Cloudline. Yet, it was the local Boston music scene, with its array of approachable, authentic artists at a critical time in my own development that truly left an indelible mark on me.

What are some of your favorite songs that you’ve written? Anything that’s particularly meaningful?

Creative Baby is about healing the inner child. It sort of encapsulates everything I was just talking about, and I hope it will help others along their creative awakening journeys, too, once I release it. Another song I wrote, Desert Rose, sounds like a vengeful break-up song on the surface, but underneath it, the reference to “burn” and “fire” are simultaneously about the fire of purification and transmutation as you rise into your greater purpose and power out of blinding suffering. It’s much more metaphysical if you want it to be. I love it when songs stay relatable after several years or take on new meanings that surprise me, even as the songwriter! That’s when you know that you are writing from a part of yourself that is timeless and mystically aware of the bigger context. Those are my favorites.

What have you got coming up? What are you excited about right now?

I look forward to when I will finally release my first EP! The songs are fully mocked up and some are recorded, but there is a lot more recording and tons of background vocals to add. I am edging closer and flowing with the process. Sometimes it gets arduous, of course. But I find that when I can stay amazed and grateful that all of this is unfolding when 5 years ago, I’d never have dreamed this would be possible, I return to the joy of it. That is when the effortless opportunities land and alignment happens.

And finally, what advice would you give to anyone looking to pursue a career in music?

I don’t think it is my place to make suggestions about a music career in general, since I work full-time in a non-profit focused on hearing health! I am still humbly figuring this all out, too. However, for aspiring singer-songwriters (and I very much consider myself to be in this category), I think finding the right producer is key. Working with someone who is “greener” can be alluring. It may seem less intimidating, more forgiving, more approachable, more affordable. But it is also a huge risk. There have been many times when I have been completely mesmerized by a killer live performance, only to return home excited to jam out to the recorded versions of those same songs and feel they fell flat. It’s a disappointment to would-be fans and a lost opportunity for lasting impact. Find someone who can take what you do live, capture the essence of it, and make it even better! If the energy and quality of your live performances outshine your recordings, this may be a sign that the recording is subpar. It is going to be harder to get on playlists that could boost your visibility, and if you want to pursue sync licensing, that may be more challenging, too.

LA is full of a ton of self-proclaimed producers who can make or break your recorded songs. Quality recordings are your best bet for expanding your audience beyond the local scene, so my advice is don’t skimp on this. Look for a producer who likes your music and is excited to make it the best version of itself. Then ensure this person has the skills to actually do this. Try not to be fooled by a flashy studio. This often doesn’t correlate to skill. There are hidden gems of producers out there who may primarily market themselves as something else—like composers or sound engineers even! They may have a humble home recording space but know how to use their equipment and software seamlessly, have freakish musicianship, can arrange, efficiently program quality demos, write out notation for your players so outcomes are not left to chance, are multi-instrumental, and have extensive knowledge of different musical styles that they draw from and weave into your sound in incredible ways that will differentiate your style. In a way, the culmination of all these other skills is what can make a “producer” truly excellent. They may not have a ton of credits to their name, so don’t be fooled by this either. Hold this vision for yourself! If this means taking more time to vet and select someone and then saving up to pay them their rate, I encourage you to exercise that patience and discipline. And remember, no matter how good the producer is, their ability to deliver can be constrained by a tight budget, too. For example, if you are going for a lush sound, samples may not be a convincing replacement for live instruments, especially strings. In this case, you need to be ready to hire really good players.

Perfection may be the enemy of good. In my opinion, so is the desire of many singer-songwriters to cut corners in the haste to release and/or save money. Your recorded music is, in a way, the “finished” version of a piece of art. If you believe your song is worth recording in the first place, and since it is going to represent you as an artist, treat it like it deserves the best. Investing in it is akin to investing in yourself and your future as a singer-songwriter.

Paco Erhard, "I Love America, I Want to Help America". Pt. 2

Wed, 22 May 2024 17:49:27 GMT

Paco Erhard | Comedian | Pt. 2

I understand you have a new show that you either are developing or have developed. What can you tell us about that?

A new show?!

5-Step Guide to Being German was written 13 years ago. I have since done nine other one-hour or 75-minute shows in English and German, so in total I am on my 10th hour of comedy. What I am developing is an online show that I will be filming as soon as possible. By online show I mean my German/European twist on formats like The Daily Show or Bill Maher or John Oliver. A show that talks about shit that matters, about the issues in America especially leading up to the 2024 election. It’s a show satirizing the news but also giving 5 to 10-minute bits of social commentary in the style of Bill Maher’s segment New Rule where I will comment on different things in American politics and American society that seem normal and unchangeable to Americans but for an outsider are just one way of doing things that I’ve seen done better many times elsewhere.

Your two-party system? Something else is possible. Your gun laws? We all know that something else is possible. Capitalism is horrible? Not necessarily if you do it the way that Germany did it; socially mitigated free enterprise capitalism with actual social systems.

The extreme split in American society. I would say that the majority of these people would prefer not to have that split and to actually work together. And as an outsider, I’m trying to provide that third perspective. It doesn’t have to be crazy right and annoying left. How about we try to fix the problems that we have?

So this is an outsider’s perspective. I will bring in comedians from Europe who all love America and see how America is fucking up currently. And I’m thinking about calling the show The Gyst because we’ll explain how things could be different and give you the gist of it, but the show will be spelled G-Y-S-T which is the acronym of “get your shit together”. So it is our loving outsider's plea for America to get its shit together. And it’s going to be relevant, it’s going to be interesting, and I will do my darndest to make it very funny. I can’t wait to do that show. It is what I feel will be the culmination of what I do. It is what I’m here for and I can’t wait to put that out there with the crew I have around me.

Now, you’ve been on the road for a while, playing different festivals in the U.S., Canada, and elsewhere. What’s that like? Any particularly fun shows or interesting experiences to share?

Playing festivals all over the world is great especially when you get into that community and know lots of artists wherever you go. That was my home for many years - the traveling circus of festival performers going around the world and doing their shows. You go to a different part of the world and you’re still surrounded by a number of people you know. They’re all beautiful weirdos like you and I enjoyed that for many years. At the same time, it’s pretty circular, so at some point I felt “How much am I developing here?” And being in one place instead of traveling all the time is so helpful in many ways for your career. If you’re the guy who’s always gone to the next festival, to the next country, you don’t make lasting industry connections. Being in one place you can work your way up in the entertainment industry of that place, so I’m actually trying to leave festivals and only play them occasionally just for the fun of it.

All of my shows have been fun. I love doing what I do. I love playing with people’s discomfort on stage and making them laugh when I resolve that. I love the dance that you have when you’re that kind of provocative comedian pushing them away, pulling them back in, making them uncomfortable, fearing what might be coming, and then taking a left turn and not doing the horrible thing they expected you to do. It’s hard to explain.

Who are some of the comedians who have influenced you?

My favorite comedians are the kind of comedians that talk about shit that matters and do so in a rough, no holds barred kind of way with total candor and honesty. But I do like a bit of a moral compass in that too. So this would be my favorite comedian Doug Stanhope who’s a genius even though most people don’t know him. He’s extremely successful in his own way with the audience he’s built. Bill Burr who is a great admirer of Doug Stanhope, for example. Also Louie CK - not a fan of his masturbation so much but his brutal honesty and ability to talk about absolutely horrible things in a way - it’s just hilarious. Richard Pryor, Patrice O’Neal.

But also sometimes comedians who are just very different from me and thereby make me laugh a lot more because we don’t have the same mind so I don’t know what’s coming - people like Josh Ladgrove or his character Dr. Professor Neal Portenza in Australia. I’m a big fan and will go to all his shows - it’s just a wild unhinged children's party for adults. It’s madness and I love it. Or Miranda Hart who I mainly know from her sitcom Miranda. Conan O’Brien for sure especially on his podcast where he can really let go and let it all out and swear and talk about the nastiest things. It’s so hilarious and he seems like such a good guy. The list goes on but there are a lot of Boston comedians among my favorites. There just seems to be something about the Irish element maybe or the roughness of it that says no topic is off limits and as long as it’s funny we can talk about anything. Jokes shouldn’t say something totally horrible but it is an attitude that is not extremely sensitive and where all sides kind of appreciate that we’re playing rough. That’s what I also love about Australians. Nothing is off-limits. If you just do it right, they’re up for anything.

And finally, what advice would you give to anyone aspiring to a career in comedy or performing? For that matter, what advice would you give to anyone aspiring to be German?

Advice for anyone wanting to do stand-up comedy? If you want to have a career in stand-up comedy, firstly don’t start in L.A.. I don’t know the point of paying money to do two minutes at an open mic, exclusively to other comedians who are jaded and hateful and don’t listen to you at all, is - how are you going to learn to make actual people laugh? If you have the possibility, start in London or L.A. or Toronto or...I don’t know where the best places in the USA are. In Berlin, an open mic means doing seven minutes in front of a packed house of non-comedians, of normal people who are there to laugh. Though you may not get paid for it, YOU definitely don’t have to pay. As a second step, though, I know many English-speaking comedians who then stay in Berlin because life is good, but you will never have a career in English-speaking comedy in Germany. So eventually move elsewhere. Move to New York, probably. Move to where the actual English-speaking comedy industry is and hit them hard with the good material that you’ve built elsewhere.

As for actually getting better at stand-up these next two things on the surface sound like opposites, but I don’t think they are. Firstly, do the comedy you love. Do what you genuinely find funny. Don’t do what you think the audience will find funny. I did this early on in Spain in holiday vacation areas to very uneducated British people trying to make them laugh with their own hack German bashing stuff that I hated but I thought it was going to make them laugh. Needless to say, I bombed most of the time. If you do what you love and what you believe in, it doesn’t matter how terribly you bomb, you can always say "fuck ‘em, I said what I wanted to say". And that will give you a lot of dignity and pride. The feeling that you know what you’re doing. Don’t try to please. Do the thing you want to do.

And here’s the other advice: constantly question yourself. That means questioning how you do your comedy. I have seen many people who try to get good at comedy who have heard that if you haven’t done 300 gigs then you don’t know how to do comedy.

After 300 you will have the level of whatever the number is. It’s bullshit when these people then went and did exactly the same five minutes that didn’t work the first time and did them again and again thinking that if they do the same unfunny shit 300 times it will eventually magically be good. Of course, it won’t. Constantly question why did people not laugh. Be honest about yourself. I have seen comedians say "I killed it" and I think you got four laughs in seven minutes. You did not kill it. Your idea of killing is ridiculous. Constantly try to get better. If they don’t laugh try to figure out why didn’t they laugh. How was it my fault that they didn’t laugh? Because even if it is a terrible audience there’s probably something you could’ve done to be just a bit better.

Even if your jokes land, have a look at the laughs that the headliners get which invariably be much bigger than yours. Think, what can I do to make my jokes better? What can I do in rhythm, timing, and wording? It is such a precision art form. Sometimes a small change can have a huge difference. It’s all about information. How much information do I have to put in this setup so they understand what I’m talking about, but what is too much because they will guess the punchline already? Can I change this word to something more specific? There are myriad ways to improve your comedy. What did I look like? How did I go on stage? Did I use the loud microphone even though I was performing to seven people instead of ditching the microphone and being honest that this isn’t Madison Square Garden? There are so many things you can learn and do better. so follow your heart. Do the stuff you want to do what you want to say but find a way to make others get it. Find a way to make others find your comedy as funny as you find it. There will be a myriad of changes that you can make to get closer and closer to where you want to be. And sometimes that involves throwing out your old material because maybe it was OK to start with and now you made the best of it but you may now be at the level where you can make better jokes based on better premises.

In summary, do the comedy you find hilarious and spend all your time finding a way to communicate that to people so they find it as funny as you do. it’s one thing to make your friends laugh because they already know you and where you're coming from. They know you’re a good person who may make a dark joke, but they know it’s a joke. All this - making the audience get to know you, and understand what you’re saying and what is funny without having to think about it…that will ultimately gather those people around you that find you hilarious and are willing to pay high ticket prices to see you. And it will connect you to the people you w ant to be connected to.

Connect with Paco Erhard
Instagram: @pacoerhard

80s/90s Movie Night Playlist

Fri, 17 May 2024 12:24:33 GMT

Check out our May mixtape, 80s/90s Movie Night to SPARK your creativity!

Classic songs from some of the best soundtracks of the 80s & 90s.

No cassette player required...just a Spotify account.

Paco Erhard, "I Love America, I Want to Help America". Pt. 1

Fri, 17 May 2024 12:07:42 GMT

Meet Comedian, author, Paco Erhard

So, Paco, tell us a bit about who you are and how you first got involved in Epiphany Space.

I’m Paco Erhardt. I’m a German stand-up comedian; I do comedy mainly about social issues - social observation in a mischievous way from a bit of an outsider’s perspective. I also do a show all about Germany called 5-Step Guide to Being German which I do at German American cultural centers and German companies around the United States. I’m also starting my own online show soon which is a twist on shows like The Daily Show, John Oliver, and Bill Maher. This will be a German perspective on America. I’m also bringing in some European comedian friends of mine with their own unique perspectives on this beautiful country.

I love America. I want to help America. I’m thinking about calling the show The Gyst spelled G-Y-S-T which is the acronym for “get your shit together”, and I will be starting that with a camera crew - a crew of people I know - quite soon.

I got involved with Epiphany Space through my dear friend Shelby who has helped me a lot. After I came to LA, he showed me some cool places, and then, at some point, I think we were walking in Hollywood and he told me, “this here on the side; that’s the coworking place I go to. It’s called Epiphany.” This was late at night so it looked like a rundown building on Gower Street. And I thought, “This is really interesting. It looks much cooler than WeWork or whatever glitzy bullshit coworking space I’ve seen. I love to meet people; I love coworking, so why don’t you introduce me sometime?”

And he did. And it was love at first sight. I’ve had a great time there ever since.

Even though now I live in Colorado, I still keep in touch. Especially with Cortney and sometimes Becky and eventually, I will probably be back in LA. Until then, I have to get involved remotely and I’ve been loving the kind of “shut up and write” sessions. And it’s always good to see everybody’s faces – Becky, Cortney, Shelby, Steve, Rice, Javier - all the lovely people at Epiphany. It’s a great place. I love it.

What prompted you to move from Germany to the United States? How did you end up in L.A.?

I’ve been doing stand-up around the world in English since 2011. In the UK, where I started out, in Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Malaysia, Singapore… all kinds of places, but ultimately the USA is the entertainment pinnacle of the world. Also, since I talk about politics and social issues and shit that matters, I couldn’t help but do a lot of American bashing or talking shit about things going wrong in America because ultimately America is simply by far the most powerful country in the world and especially in the west, so whatever happens in America ultimately affects us too. And I kind of got tired of just bitching about America [overseas] because if you want to bitch about somebody, do it to their face. And that’s what I thought I’d do, especially because I love America.

I just think America can do a lot better than it’s doing now. You know this.

Ultimately, if you have the delusion like I do that your art can affect people and maybe change some minds, then why not go to the place that you most talk about; the place you most want to get better; the place you love? Why not go to the United States? So that’s what I eventually did.

I wanted to move to New York, but before that I was going to meet a friend of mine in Los Angeles, and we were going to go to San Diego (OK… it was a woman I quite liked) and then travel to Mexico and spend some more time in LA. And as we were doing this, I realized I knew LA a lot better than New York because I had been coming here for years. I have lots more friends in LA; also friends in the entertainment industry who could maybe connect me. And also, it was December. Why was I moving to New York, exactly? And that’s when I decided that entertainment exists in LA too, and so I came to LA and I love LA.

Tell us a bit about your show, The 5-Step Guide to Being German. What was the inspiration for it? How did it come about, and how has it evolved over time?

5-Step Guide to Being German is my oldest show. It was the first solo show I ever wrote in 2011. And it is kind of my cash cow on the side. It doesn’t have much to do with my other more political stand-up. It’s a show all about what we Germans are really like and why because we are a lot more ridiculous in reality than the stupid clichés could ever be. It’s a show in which I explain different cultures to each other. I find it very interesting how we all become the way we are; and how entire countries are simply influenced by their history. Why are Americans on average positive about the future? Why do they act very quickly and have that “can-do” attitude whereas Germans tend to think a lot and try to plan everything out and try to control everything before they even move?

There are all these historical factors that play a role psychologically, and I find these things fascinating. And I love turning that kind of stuff into comedy because I think humor can transport knowledge in a much better way, especially when it comes to truths that are maybe kind of uncomfortable or when it comes to conflicts between Germans and Americans in a company, for example. That’s where I do 5-Step Guide to Being German a lot – in companies explaining Germans and Americans to each other so they go – oh, that’s why they are the way they are. I get it now.

They realize how both sides have their strengths and weaknesses and learn how to put those together in the best way. The show came about in the years before 2011. I had already worked with Brits in Spain. Brits who were not quite so educated sort of British people who had a lot of dumb stereotypes about Germans and had been trained for decades by the media to hate Germans or at least not like them. I remember that I learned to banter with that. Ultimately they didn’t mean anything by it. They had just been told all those stereotypes and were now making fun of me without really knowing anything, so I learned to banter have witty comebacks, and be self-deprecating. They loved that, and I did that for years - forming the humor I already had in a little bit more British, darker, sometimes more confrontational, and a little self-deprecating way. However, that got really tedious at some point because you can only do the banter for so long. You can only hear about Germans goose-stepping and not having a sense of humor and all that dumb shit for so long. Eventually, you get tired of it.

At some point, I remember telling this guy, “Dude that’s not what we Germans are really like, you know? That’s just dumb. That’s not what we’re really like.” And he said, “OK. So what are you Germans really like?” And I realized that I didn’t have a clue what we were really like. Especially when you’re living in it, how do you describe what somebody is like? And I realized that all of us – Americans, Brits, Italians – whatever – are so used to doing what we do that we don’t even know what we do. We don’t know what we are like. So that was the starting point for me looking into what we are really like. I went into libraries and did years of psychological and historical research and lots of soul-searching to start to understand myself and my people, how we are different from others how we see ourselves versus how others see us, and what is behind those stereotypes. To what degree are they true? To what degree are they false? Where did they come from? What happened in 1618 that still influences us to this day? And from Spain, I moved to London and started doing real stand-up comedy there.

For the Edinburgh Fringe Festival 2011, being the largest performance festival in the world, I started writing this show –5 Step Guide to Being German - where I put together jokes around the many things I had learned through my research. And that show was my breakthrough. It was extremely successful and I was asked whether I wanted to do the same show in Australia. Then offers came from elsewhere and I did it in Edinburgh again because I wasn’t quite happy with the show yet. And it was insane how oversold my shows were.

It’s kind of been my cash cow ever since. I occasionally get tired of it, but I just do some new research and I get fascinated again or I do more research about Americans. Since I'm not talking to Brits or Australians anymore, it’s important that I know why Americans on average are the way they are. What influences their psyche on a national level? And then I change the show a little bit.

And also then I have hundreds of people watching it at a cultural center and giving me their money and I quite enjoy that. And of course, doing this for companies and having the feeling that this helps people, can resolve conflict, and makes some peoples’ work life easier… that’s also just a really good feeling.

How has it evolved?

Well, like I said, going back into the topic again and again, makes me better and better about knowing my stuff. Wherever I go, I research the country I’m going to and the people I meet there, so I don’t only understand why WE are the way we are. It’s also fascinating to understand how others could not have really developed any differently than they

did given the history and influences that they’ve had. Catastrophes like war, famine, and being sent somewhere far away as prisoners will influence people and they will pass on their mindset to the children. We still follow rules and have values and best practices that made sense 200 years ago. They don’t really work anymore but there’s a lot of inertia in this and so they are still in us somehow.

So getting to know country after country, my horizon has broadened to the general question of how we are influenced and hardwired without knowing it. It’s fascinating how the vast majority of people don’t realize how they operate culturally - what is not their feelings and values but has been put into them by their culture.

Another evolution that I remember was when I first did the show in Australia and not in Britain anymore. It turns out Australians really like us Germans and we’re not used to that, so this was new to me. The show when I did it in Britain was quite confrontational, calling Brits out on their bullshit, on their shortcomings, on their hypocrisies. And I think there was a big element of a grudge against all the insults, the banter, and the dumb ignorant comments I had experienced for almost a decade at that point. So there was an element of bad blood in my comedy and doing the show in a country where I felt much more welcomed for being where I was from was very different suddenly, so I think it made me a better comedian because I was not so influenced by the insults anymore. I wasn’t so primed to seek confrontation. I could focus more on what I was talking about. That is a distinct memory I have that I felt all of this has really just been a step for me. Bringing it to New Zealand, Canada, America, and so on also has broadened my spectrum on how different audiences are wherever you go, but that is more of a general evolution of my comedy and my understanding of what I do guide and less to do with 5 Step Guide to Being German.

Connect with Paco Erhard
Instagram: @pacoerhard

Mandy Williams | Performer

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 25 Apr 2024 03:41:38 GMT

Mandy Williams | Performer

Tell us a little bit about who you are, what you do, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

My main gig is as a singer. I’ve also written a couple of children’s books. My passion project right now is my one-woman comedy show so I am so grateful to have found Epiphany Space and this amazing group of “Adventurous Spirits” and creative souls.

You wear a number of hats, including writer, actress, and musician, among others. How did you first get started in the arts? Tell us a bit about your creative journey.

I know you’re a veteran Ren Faire performer. How did you get involved in that? What’s it like?

Any cool Faire stories to share?

What happens at the Ren Faire stays at the Ren Faire.

Oh, go on then, since it’s you...

Who are some of your creative idols? Who inspires you?

Miriam Margolyes (Professor Sprout in Harry Potter. Catch her on Graham Norton. She is wickedly naughty and mischievous)
Victoria Wood ( Brilliant mind and most famous for her comedy song The Ballad of Barry and Freda)
Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders (a comedy double act but I love Dawn French in The Vicar of Dibley and Jennifer Saunders in her show Absolutely Fabulous with Joanna Lumley)

I am completely inspired by my role model Victoria Wood. I love the down-to-earth nature of her comedy and her songs so that’s what drives me.

It is thus far THE most exciting (and scariest) thing I’ve ever embarked on. But mostly exciting.

Have you got any other cool projects on the horizon? What do the next, say, two or three years look like for you, creatively?

And finally, what advice would you give to anyone else looking to get into music or theater or performing or any of the other myriad things you excel at?

Connect with Mandy Williams
Instagram: @mandywilliams9932

David Lee | Founder, SowEpic

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 20 Mar 2024 20:48:19 GMT

David Lee

Founder, SowEpic

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

As part of SowEpic’s events I was hosting a “Hero Huddle”, a gathering spot for those of us passionate about the worlds of fandoms, gaming, and spiritual communities when Melissa showed up. She told me about Epiphany Space, this incredible hub where artists and creators of all stripes come together to network, share, and inspire. Melissa invited me over to an Artist Hangout they were hosting—she told us it was part of the vibrant life at Epiphany Space. I was amazed to find a melting pot where all sorts of creative souls gather. It was like finding a new gear in a car you thought you knew well. It wasn’t just the overlap of worlds that got me; it was their rich, mutual enrichment. The hangout was so spot-on with the kind of community and connection we dreamed of fostering at SowEpic that we made it a part of our regular rhythm. It’s about creating that inclusive space where you can let your guard down, dive into your passions, and see how they all interlace with faith in the most natural, uplifting way. It’s kind of like discovering your tribe, you know? That’s the vibe that snagged me, and it's been a cornerstone of our journey ever since.

Who inspires you? What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

Who Lights Up My Creative Spark? There are these moments in gaming and movies that just… wow, you know? It’s the stories, the art, the epic boundless creativity that catches my breath every single time. They light a fire in me, pushing me to dive in and craft something just as monumental. It’s not about echoing what’s already out there but about striking that match within to forge something fresh, something uniquely ours. It’s here, in this creative crucible, where faith and creativity aren’t just passing acquaintances but dance partners, spotlighting our shared narrative. And how do I scratch that creative itch, you ask? Well, I’ve taken on the mantle of Dungeon Master for several groups that are an integral part of our mission to embrace and serve the nerd community. It’s in these sessions, amidst the dice rolls and character arcs, that I find a vibrant canvas for storytelling. Each campaign weaves together the threads of fantasy, adventure, and clashing virtues, crafting a tapestry where each player’s journey contributes to our collective story. It’s a space where imagination meets spirituality, where each session is a step further into a world where both can flourish side by side, feeding that creative spark in ways that keep surprising me. Also, my community endlessly inspires me. All these creatives out here bringing dreams to life, even in our current economic climate. There are no “good times” for art. It is something that, like the lotus flower, is birthed in hardship that bares the soul. This includes my family that brings new breath to my creative vision.

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

Navigating the bumps in the road, oh boy, where do I start? Blending faith with nerddom wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. There was a fair bit of eyebrow-raising and head-scratching from both sides. But, you push through, right? Staying true to what you believe, while opening your arms wide to welcome everyone. It’s about showing that divine creativity isn’t this add-on app you install in your life; it’s the operating system running the whole show. Getting the two realms to normalize with each other will take some goodwill and a gentle touch, but it is a fight worth fighting.

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

Right now? We’re dreaming big and bringing those dreams to life with projects like a fantasy-themed restaurant that promises to be a feast for the soul, not just the stomach. On top of that, we’re broadening our presence at conventions and launching our very own SowEpiCast streaming studios. But wait, there’s more on the menu. We’ve launched a podcast titled Show Epic, aiming to become the go-to nerd news outlet for Columbus, GA. It’s where pop culture and gaming in Columbus converge, offering insights and stories you won’t find anywhere else. And for the Tolkien fans out there, get ready for The Shire Adventures, our D&D Lord of the Rings actual play series premiering this May. Picture this: four hobbits, life in the Shire, all set before the War of the Ring unfolds. It’s an adventure that promises to be both epic and heartwarming, drawing you into the quieter corners of Middle Earth. We’re also in the throes of creating tabletop games and books that are sure to kindle the imagination. To keep up with these and all our other ventures, make sure to follow SowEpic on Facebook.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

Looking ahead, I see SowEpic evolving into a beacon of hope and creativity, where faith and fandom are not just parallel tracks but intertwined paths that lead to a deeper understanding of our place in God’s grand narrative. In five years, I envision a thriving community where individuals are empowered to express their faith through their passions, whether it be gaming, art, or storytelling. I can see our streaming platform taking off, and our cafe becoming a hive for fantasy themed destinations. The future is bright!

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

To those walking similar paths, my advice is simple yet profound: stay true to your vision, even when the journey gets tough. Remember, your unique passions and interests are not just hobbies; they are gifts from God, pathways to experience divine wisdom and share it with the world. Dive deep into your creativity, let your faith guide you, and never underestimate the power of community to transform lives. In this endeavor, authenticity and empathy are your greatest allies . Navigating this journey with SowEpic has been an extraordinary experience, one that continues to unfold in wonderfully unexpected ways. The stories we’ve shared and the lives we’ve touched stand as a testament to the transformative power of combining faith with the boundless universes of creativity. I’m grateful for the opportunity to share this journey with you and excited for what the future holds.

Heather Rose Walters | Iffly Creator

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 28 Feb 2024 01:00:43 GMT

Heather Rose Walters | Iffly Creator

How did you get involved with Epiphany Space?

Back in another life (the 2000-teens), I lived in Los Angeles. I was pursuing a career as an actor and screenwriter, and attending a church community weekly at First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood. Across the street was this lovely little building that I soon learned was a coworking space for creatives! I did some freelance writing to pay the bills and I was looking for a coworking space. I attended and found out they needed volunteers, so I was excited to participate -- I volunteered as a host a couple of times a week and was able to take advantage of the wonderful coworking space in exchange. During that time there were so many wonderful in-person events that I enjoyed -- from a writing weekend to a hot chocolate competition (Which I won, of course -- I pride myself on my hot chocolate recipes!) and an open mic. It was a wonderful experience. I eventually had to move back to Oregon because of some family health complications, but I have enjoyed keeping up with ES online and seeing how they've grown, especially with the launch of the online community. I'm so excited to be a part of it now!

Where did the idea for Iffly come from and what has the development process been like?

For almost two years I worked as the Head Writer for the video game studio Soma Games in Newberg, Oregon, leading a team of both staff writers and freelance contributors. Before I started, Soma had no formal writing department, so I came on and built up their writing protocols and systems. After a lot of research on game writing software currently available, I ultimately got the Soma team started with Articy:Draft — the norm for indie studios creating the types of games Soma was making (3D adventure games). In the process of researching, it became painfully clear that there really isn’t an accessible option out in the world for amateur game writers — or even professional writers who want to get into game writing. Honestly, it surprised me; I knew a lot of writers would probably love to get into game writing, but didn't know how.

My next big project at Soma was to build their interactive fiction department. With the rights to the best-selling Redwall book series, I oversaw the production of five different complete interactive fiction games. This process made it abundantly clear that even though Articy:Draft is a powerful engine, it isn’t ideal for writing text-heavy interactive fiction. Writers just can't get into a flow. Our team ended up writing the stories in Google Docs, and then painstakingly transferring them to Articy:Draft so the programming and art teams could work on them from there. It was a laborious process, and I just kept wishing that there was a better tool on the market for the work we were doing.

I was laid off from Soma, which was incredibly disappointing -- but gave me a chance to actually work through this seed of an idea that was simmering. At that point, I started to design it. I'm not a programmer, of course, so I used “Canva” to design exactly how I wanted the UI/UX to look and feel, with all the details for how the tool would work. How could we have a word processing tool that made branching, interactive narrative easy and intuitive to write? No coding, no programming, no design -- the hope is that writers can really get into a flow as they write, which I had not found in any other tool. No clicking and dragging, no node design, just typing, and a few keyboard commands. The design actually came pretty quickly, as I knew what I wanted as a writer -- what I'd been aching for when we were writing all our app stories!

From there, I knew I needed to hire developers to build it, so I wrote a business plan and did a round of fundraising from friends and family. With their help and my own savings, we raised enough to hire a firm to build the product. That was several years ago; it took much longer to build than expected because nothing like it has ever been built -- the developers were discovering new things all along the way. In 2022 we finally were ready for some beta testing and brought on a group of incredibly generous and enthusiastic writers who have helped us work through the bugs. I also brought on a technical cofounder, Samantha Wessel , who took over for the developers and helped us finally push the product to a public launch this last October, 2023. Since then she has been invaluable in helping add features and fix bugs; I truly don't know what I would do without her!

Now, we're constantly working to improve the tool, make it easier to use, and get the word out -- I'm so excited to see what writers do with it for MiniGame March.

LADIES AND GENTLETHEMS, I am so, so, SO excited to announce a brand-new game writing contest: Iffly's MiniGame March! Complete with a CASH PRIZE of $250 to the winning game! Interested? Read on!

The premise is simple: during the month of March, write and publish a complete game on Iffly.co . Our judges will review them, and select a winner!

Never written a game before? Never fear! For you lovely newbies just now joining us, Iffly is a game-writing platform where you can write and publish a game without ANY code, programming, or design. You don't need to have art. You don't need to know any programming language. ALL you need to be able to do is write -- and you can make a text-based game on Iffly.

Once you publish it, tag it #MiniGameMarch2024, and our panel of judges will review each and every entry. The winner gets $250! And, honorable mentions will have their pick of some exciting prizes (more on that in a moment).

Entering is FREE, and simple:

1) Sign up for on Iffly.co and click all the checkboxes.

-> I want to be a writer

-> I am at least 16 years old (sorry kids)

-> Send me Iffly updates (YES you need to click this so that you can receive emails about the contest and your entry!)

2) WAIT UNTIL MARCH 1ST, and then start a 'New Story' on Iffly. If you start before March, your entry will be disqualified.

3) Tag it #MiniGameMarch2024 so judges can easily find all entries.

4) Write a complete game and PUBLISH it before March 31st.

That's right: you have one month. There's a reason this is "MINI-game March." These will be short games! That's okay! That's the point. Think of it like flash fiction -- but for games. There are plenty of games, especially in the world of text-based games, that are very short -- less than an hour, less than even ten minutes long. It has been said that 'Brevity is the soul of wit' and that applies here -- you've got to exercise your creativity to make that brief game as impactful as possible.

Then again, you do have a full month. If you want to try and crank out a beast of 50,000 words -- please, be my guest. Either strategy is completely valid!

The Judging Process

Games will be judged in five categories:

1) Originality -- How are you using your limited run time? Is your premise unique, intriguing, fun, engaging?

2) Writing quality -- We love your prose. We'll be judging technical prowess (are there many grammar or spelling mistakes?) as well as flow. Does it make sense? Can the reader follow it?

3) Style -- There's no accounting for it, I know, but we're gonna try. How does the writing hit the reader? Is it lyrical and lush or powerfully staccato? Does your voice stand out as unique and engaging? Does the choices you've made stylistically make sense with the premise of the game?

4) Gameplay -- These aren't just stories; they're games. This will gauge how the interactivity affects the player's experience; do the choices make sense, do they connect with the premise stylistically, does the player feel like they're affecting the story? Is the gameplay...fun?

5) Overall OOMPH -- Games are more than the sum of their parts. This category will be where the judges rate their overall experience, whether the game drew them in, how they felt finishing it, and just in general whether they felt it was impactful.

Our panel of judges will be introduced in an upcoming post, but rest assured they are experienced writers and game devs who have a passion for text-based games and a range of backgrounds.

The Winners!

After the clock strikes 12:01 on April 1st, entries will be closed and judging will begin. Our goal is to have the winners selected by the end of April, but that will of course depend on how many entries we receive. Each winning game will go through at least two judges. We'll keep you updated!

First Prize: The writer of the Top Rated Game will receive the grand prize of $250, which comes directly from our incredible sponsor, Epiphany Space ! More on them below. Our first prize game will also be listed on the home page of Iffly as a featured game for an entire month!

Honorary mentions: We have several product prizes donated from some incredible companies; look for a new blog post soon to find out what those are!

For more details, click here !

REWIND: Morgan Nikola Wren | Poet

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 21 Feb 2024 00:12:17 GMT

Morgan Nikola Wren

Poet

To start off, why don’t you tell us a bit about when and how you first started writing poetry.

Well, I wrote poetry briefly in high school–as does every awkward kid who can’t quite communicate what is going on in their life. Then I quit for years because I didn’t think I was very good. I toyed with starting again in college. I even enrolled in a creative writing class focused on poetry. But I only stayed in the class for a week, because the talent of all the other students scared the crap out of me.

When my personal life got especially messy/painful in my early 20s, I wasn’t ready to talk about it much. But I still needed to process. So I began writing poetry regularly, but I didn’t take it very seriously. I had always seen myself writing fiction, and oddly enough, it was that that kicked my poetry career off.

I was trying to cut down the word count on a novel I had written. By a lot. I thought poetry would be a good thing to practice daily. Because you are trying to say as much as you can with as few words as possible. I also started putting the poems online, to see how they were doing, and they gained a far more decent following than I ever thought they would. After enough time, I had enough poems to make several books, so I figured I should put together at least one.

You were an Artist in Residence at Epiphany Space, back in the summer of 2019. How did that come about, and what was the experience like? Tell us about some of the work you created for Epiphany.

Oh my gosh, that was a blast and a sheer act of providence. I was teaching at the time, so I wanted to make sure that I maximized my summer. (Let’s demolish that myth that teachers get summers off. We don’t. But we do get more free time than during the school year.) I messaged Becky on Facebook on a whim. I had been familiar with Epiphany since its inception and had attended different events there. I loved how they met at the intersection of faith and art and I knew I wanted to spend more time with them. I knew they did residencies, so I thought I would check-in to see if they needed an artist in residence for that summer. I was thrilled when Becky wrote back with interest.

The summer was fantastic. I led several poetry workshops and released my book, Poems from the Attic (a collection of poems that I loved, but had to pull from previous books.) We had a release party at Epiphany Space where I read from the book. I was also lucky enough to be joined by fellow writers and people I had met through the workshops, who were kind enough to read their own work at the event. Funnily enough, I was so nervous, that I forgot to sign any of the books that were purchased. I had never had a release party before.

Where do you draw inspiration from? Who are some of the poets and artists that have influenced your work?

Oh, so many! Catherynne M. Valente and Neil Gaiman have been two of my favorite writers for well over a decade. I have too many favorite poets to count, but a few that come to mind first are Alysia Nicole Harris, Will Bortz, and Carrie Rudzinski. Of course, there are a ton of artists (particularly musicians and directors) who I feel influencing my work. Namely Tori Amos, Loreena McKennit, Florence Welch, Guillermo del Toro, Alfonso Cuaron, and Julie Taymor.

If someone wanted to better understand who you are as a person, what one poem of your own and one poem of someone else’s would you give them to read?

Okay, I agonized over this question for so long, and I know it’s not a poem, but the only answer I can give is The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, which, though a book, reads like an enormous poem. I just…nothing I have read has ever felt ripped straight from my soul like that book did.

Tell us a bit about your book, Magic With Skin On.

Magic with Skin On was the first book I released. Long story short, I had pulled together a lot of my favorite poems at the time that I knew I wanted to publish in a collection, but I was also going through some stuff. I felt like I was chasing a life I loved desperately, but that didn’t love me back. I started writing a short story about an artist and her neglectful/abusive muse, for obvious reasons, and I knew immediately I wanted to put it in the book. I split the story up into seven sections and followed each section with poems that were thematically appropriate. I was insanely lucky when that book was released. The reception it got was overwhelming. I was even fortunate enough to see it get a Goodreads Choice Nomination, among other honors. I still can’t believe that happened.

Are you working on anything right now? What have you got coming up that you’d like to tell us about?

Well, ironically, since leaving L.A. for Milwaukee, I’ve thrown myself pretty hard into screenwriting, which has been a great deal of fun.

I’ve also been writing and mailing small, original poems to anyone who asks. I started doing so in 2020, as a means of connecting during the pandemic, calling it #PoemsOnPostcards , and have continued since. Right now, I’m at about 170 poems sent to 15 countries spanning five continents. I’m currently formatting a book that’s a collection of these poems and having a wonderful time creating digital art to put throughout.

Finally, what advice would you give to aspiring poets and other artists?

Read all that you can. Read every day. And especially read the writers that scare you because they’re so amazing. The ones that make you question why you’re doing this in the first place. I read a quote by Ira Glass over a decade ago. It said “Your work won’t match up to the work or artists you love. Not by a long shot. And that means your taste is good. And the only thing that will close the gap between your work and the work you admire is continuing to make it.” I’ve never forgotten that.

Also, if it’s so true it scares you, then you should probably write it down. And by “probably,” I mean definitely. Even if you’re the only one who’s going to read it.

Suzanne Yada | Singer-songwriter | Digital Marketing Specialist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 18 Jan 2024 03:09:18 GMT

Suzanne Yada | Singer-songwriter | Digital Marketing Specialist

Hi, Suzanne! Tell us a bit about who you are and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

Hi! I am a singer, songwriter, and digital marketing specialist, amongst other things. I first got to know Epiphany Space through a network of musicians called Balanced Breakfast, where I met Cortney (Matz) up in San Francisco at an event. I was still living in the Bay Area at the time. Then I ended up moving down to Los Angeles in 2021 and connected with Cortney down here. The rest is history!

Now, you have a number of talents. To start with, you’re a singer, songwriter, and musician. How would you categorize your music style? What are some of your favorite songs you’ve written?

My artist project, @ Little Spiral @, started officially in 2014. I would categorize my music as indie-piano singer-songwriter, with a mix of pop, rock, jazz, and classical influences, in the vein of Tori Amos, Regina Spektor, and Ben Folds. Although those are pretty big names to live up to, I was really honored when Ben Folds reviewed some of my songs and gave me incredible feedback and encouragement. The song he loved most was called “Mathemartics,” and it's probably one of my favorite songs I've ever written. It's a complex, weird little song about God being the combination of math and art. Others that are near and dear to my heart are songs called “Paper Work,” about wanting to just set fire to all the bureaucracy that keeps people apart, and “Tamagotchi,” which is a song that cries out for someone to take care of me for once.

I've been told my music sounds like if Fiona Apple wrote songs about robots, and that is probably the most accurate description I've ever heard of my music.

What’s your process like when it comes to writing songs? Where do you get inspiration?

My songwriting process ebbs and flows, but there are definite habits. I keep all of my ideas and voice memo snippets in my Evernote app, where I have all of my song ideas since 2012. It’s a vast library of ideas. I've written nearly 300 songs, and I have thousands of other random ideas and incomplete songs in my notebook. Sometimes I'll share random ideas from my Evernote on TikTok just to see if any get a good enough reaction to flesh them out. That's been a lot of fun.

My inspiration tends to come from bigger-picture issues that I try to distill into personal issues. That's kind of the reason @ Little Spiral @ is my name, because you can zoom in and in and in on a spiral, and it's still a spiral, into infinity. And, you can zoom out and out and out into Infinity, and it's still a spiral. I think a lot about that microcosm and macrocosm, so I tend to go after bigger subjects than just something like interpersonal relationships. If my song has relationships in it, it's usually a metaphor for something bigger. I do gravitate a lot towards subjects like religion, technology, and social justice - the big question of who are we as humans. No question is bigger!

I am a lyrically driven writer, having poetry and journalism in my background. Usually, words come first, with some major exceptions. Then I hear the music and rhythm in the words themselves, and I build melodies on top of them. I care a lot about lyrics and I try to infuse them with as much poetry as I can get away with. Also, humor, because sometimes life is just funny.

I think it surprises people that I focus so heavily on words because I'm also a strong piano player, and I like to play all 88 of my keys. When I first got started, I focused on the number of crazy tricks I could do to impress people on the piano. Then I tried to impress people with my turns of phrase and cleverness in the lyrics. But what surprised me the most - the most! - was how so many people walked away from my music saying, "Wow, I love her voice." I did next to nothing to work on my voice. I worked on my piano, my lyrics, my performance, but my voice just… was. I can count on one hand the number of voice lessons I've ever taken - and I'm not saying that to brag. In fact, my lack of technique could be the death of me! But believe me when I say my voice was my least favorite thing I liked about my music. Any singer can tell you that they have their moments when they can't stand the sound of their own voice. I had that hang-up for years. It wasn't until I entered some songwriting competitions and judges would unilaterally compliment me on my voice did I finally start to believe people when they say they love it.

You’re also a consultant for other artists and creatives, providing assistance with digital and social media marketing. How did helping other artists become a passion for you? And how did Facebook and digital marketing become the tools you use to do that?

I noticed that a lot of digital marketing strategy came very naturally to me, whereas it doesn't come naturally to so many other artists, creators, and entrepreneurs. That comes from my upbringing where my dad owned a few print shops in the Central Valley of California. I grew up absorbing that kind of marketing material - brochures, flyers, business cards, mailers - and it just made sense to me. So when the internet became A THING, I saw it as the new printing press, and I dove all in. I was an early adopter of things like website-building, blogging, and Twitter. I think I made my first website in 1996. So this is my native language, and when I stepped more into connecting with other artists, I saw that as an opportunity to offer my services.

I started out as a marketing consultant after I got laid off from my journalism job. I was brand new to entrepreneurship, and I was just trying to offer anything and everything to whoever wanted it - I'll tweet for you! I'll manage your emails! I'll build your website! Anything.

But it wasn't until about 2016 that I started to get more and more questions from clients about Facebook advertising. I looked into it and took an online course, and it made so much sense to me. That's when I decided to specialize, and that's when I got the biggest jump in clients. I also got the biggest jump in clients who were willing to pay well for my expertise, because online advertising requires an investment. And if you're going to invest your money, might as well hire someone to do it right.

But recently, I'm at another turn in my career where I no longer want to specialize in just one thing - advertising. I've been exploring other things where I can be of most use. I've started to offer business and marketing coaching sessions to other freelance service providers and solopreneurs, helping them piece together strategies and giving them business advice. I also occasionally do workshops on project management. I've picked up part-time work in marketing with a fantastic nonprofit organization called Songwriters of North America, who advocates for better pay and working conditions for songwriters. That job marries my interests in marketing, communications, advocacy, and songwriting all in one. It's been great.

Your website mentions creating zines at your dad’s print shop. I feel like there’s a story there, and I would very much like to hear it. Tell us about the zines!

Hoo boy! Yep, thanks to dad, I had access to some state-of-the-art copiers, plus some binding machines that made for nice little booklets. I published my poetry, articles, and some art I liked (before I understood copyright, whoops!). I made up comics and puzzles. I was in my late teens and early 20s. I would give them out to people, and at some point tried to sell them. I may have sold, like, five copies total. Most were just given away.

I recently came across an old copy of the zine, and there was this page with a bunch of silly one-liners I had randomly written - they were tweets years before Twitter was a thing. And actually, I ended up putting one of those one-liners into my song “Millennia.” It's a super dark line - "The atom bomb is so analog, can't we kill everybody digitally?" - but also kind of funny. It lined up with the digital dystopian feeling I wanted in my song.

What have you got in the works? Any projects you can talk about? What can we expect from you in the future, as a musician, as a consultant, or both?

Lots! Working on some placement opportunities for my music in film and TV. Working on an EP that is aptly titled Sad Girl Songs. Working on an electropop EP with all female producers and sound engineers. Working on workshops - I teach songwriting through the city of Los Angeles and I'm about to bring that curriculum online. I also am co-writing a whole lot more than I ever have.

Lastly, what would you say is the best way that artists and creatives can support each other and help one another along their journeys?

My biggest advice is to ask for help. It's freaking hard to do. I'm an introvert, so sometimes creating connection is a challenge. But it's so helpful we have places like Epiphany Space that can help. Barter, trade, hire friends, do a work-trade with someone at Epiphany Space, find a virtual assistant on Fiverr, get a part-time job to fund it all, whatever it is you have to do. You can't do it alone. I keep trying. It's no fun. You can't do it alone.

Connect with Suzanne Yada / @ Little Spiral @
Website: https://littlespiral.com/

REWIND: Matthew Crofoot | Holistic Health Coach

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 03 Jan 2024 18:28:36 GMT

Matthew Crofoot

Holistic Health Coach

So, Matt, you’re a holistic health coach. Tell us a little bit about what that entails, and what it is you do.

I help people assess their health and see where they may be having problems in foundational areas of their life. This includes things like what they eat, how they move, are they getting good sleep, avoiding environmental toxicity, and managing stress. It can also involve dealing with trauma and negative belief systems.

How did you get started in this field? What drew you to it?

I got very sick about twenty years ago and developed Chronic Fatigue and many neurological problems. This started me on an epic journey to discover what makes humans healthy and how our modern lifestyle is at odds with that.

How did you learn about all of this? Is there special training involved?

I am a certified Functional Nutritional Therapy Practitioner and Awakening Dynamics Quantum Healer. I blend the nutrition and physical/lifestyle strategies of being a Nutritional Therapist with the very powerful Subconscious Empowerment belief work I do which uses energy healing as one of the modalities.

What are some of the ways that working on mental and physical health can improve physical health as well?

Most people put excessive amounts of learning and work into the physical. We all know we are supposed to eat healthily and get exercise, yet sometimes we find we simply can’t force ourselves to do it. Maybe we are stressed out all of the time, or have childhood or major event trauma in our life that was never addressed. All of the psychological and emotional blocks I find are often much more powerful and are showstoppers to our physical health. This is because they block the flow of energy in our body and put our nervous system into a sympathetic “fight or flight” response, making it very hard to heal. I have found people can have breakthroughs in almost any area of their life when they address their emotional, psychological, and energetic issues. One of my gifts is to hold space for people and be a guide to help find out what these blocks are during my Subconscious Empowerment sessions.

Take us through a typical day for you at Habitual Health. What kinds of things do you do for different clients, and how do you help them?

I usually see people remotely over Zoom. A Subconscious Empowerment session usually lasts just over an hour and is a collaborative process between me and the client. Together we make a safe space to do the work and then go searching for the blocks and traumas that are holding them back in the area of their life they want to change. Often this includes me doing free-form energy work or a combination of muscle testing and belief work to help shift limiting beliefs and traumas. Relationship and allergy clearings can be helpful as well. Really, the sky's the limit on the energy healing side. I like to blend in practical coaching to help change physical and lifestyle habits that will support a person nutritionally if that is appropriate. I’ve also been known to advise on other topics to help my clients see a new perspective which helps shift beliefs as well. Finally, when needed, I help people with their nervous systems and conscious belief systems.

What would you say is the future of your business? How would you like it to grow and evolve going forward?

Going forward, I would like to be able to help the right people. People that are ready to offer their gifts to the world so I can create a virtuous upward spiral of positive impact on this planet.

What advice would you give to others looking to follow a similar path, and learn about holistic health practices?

I really felt that my nutrition coaching program at the NTA (nutritionaltherapy.com) was instrumental. Talking to a mentor is also a great place to start as you plan out who you want to serve and what areas of health you are passionate about.

Lastly, what drew you to Epiphany Space, when did you know they were your L.A. community?

I felt energetically drawn to Epiphany Space. I was researching coworking spaces and there are hundreds in Los Angeles. I just felt a strong pull to Epiphany Space (as I have heard echoed before by others). It is an amazing group of people with great hearts. I am so glad I found this community.

Flo Oramasionwu | Artist | Singer-Songwriter | Musician

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 01 Nov 2023 02:32:17 GMT

Flo Oramasionwu

Artist | Singer-Songwriter | Musician

Hi, Flo! To start off, would you tell us a bit about who you are, what you do, and how you first got involved in Epiphany Space?

My name is Flo, I'm a pop/soul artist who got involved in Epiphany Space through two amazing friends. I was new to LA and they invited me out to so many of the creative nights and events (such as open mics, Supper Songs, and holiday events) and that's how I got introduced to the beautiful community of incredible people and have been hooked ever since!

You’re a talented musician. What is it that first drew you to music? When did you first start playing piano, and writing songs?

I think I instinctually always loved to sing since I was a kid (such a cliche answer for anyone involved in music). But for real I was always singing along to the radio since I could remember and I'm sure I would drive people around my bananas ‘cause I was ALWAYS singing. Like a lot of other people, I took piano lessons as a kid but hated practicing so I quit and, of course, I totally regret doing that now because I think of how much further I would be piano-wise had I stuck with it then (so a message to all the kids out there, DON'T QUIT!). When I discovered that I wanted to take a music career as an artist seriously, I started to get involved in the collaborative process of songwriting.

Who are your inspirations? What artists and songs have influenced you over the years, and how has their style helped to shape yours?

Oh my goodness, do you have 2 hours or a full page that I could fill up because I can go on and OOOOONNN about my influences, but I'll try to keep it short and concise. My influences are: Alicia Keys, Adele, Amy Winehouse, Lauryn Hill, Mary J Blige, Erykah Badu, Corinne Bailey Rae, Jill Scott, Emeli Sande, Brandy, India Arie, Justin Timberlake, and John Legend are, I'd say the major ones. But honestly, it's anyone who I think fuses together beautifully soulful pop music. I analyze/study the craftiness and catchiness of pop sound/production/melodies, but of course, I'm drawn to the emotion of soul music. So I'll listen to top 40 pop artists (Dua Lipa, Ed Sheeran, Taylor Swift, Doja Cat, Billie Eilish, Olivia Rodrigo, Sza, etc) on the radio or playlists just to keep my ears tuned to pop patterns (the nerd in me loves to study that stuff). At the end of the day, GOOD music is good music, it stands out no matter what genre. My heart and ears know what they like, period, and that's what I pay attention to, I don't fight what my gut tells me musically.

Who would you most love to work with? If you could collaborate with any other artist or artists, who would it be, and what would you want to do?

There's so many I'd love to collaborate with! I'd love to write a song with Ryan Tedder, Paul Epworth, and Raphael Saadiq and have them each produce it! I'd love to have Timbaland, Pharell, Mark Ronson, Scott Storch, Greg Wells, Finneas, and Max Martin produce a song for me. I'd love to co-write with Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran, Adele, Alicia Keys, Billie Eilish and Finneas, Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney, Julia Michaels, Dan Wilson, Bruno Mars, Sia, John Legend, Jill Scott, India Arie, Lauryn Hill, Justin Timberlake, Linda Perry, Bonnie McKee, and Diane Warren.

What are some of your favorite songs you’ve written, and why? What inspired them?

Some of my favorite songs? Ooooo, I have a lot, and most of them haven't been released yet (so excited for them to get to the finish line and share them with everybody, and hopefully everybody feels the same way that I do about them). One of my favorites is "Butterfly". It's a song about potential, metamorphosis, and it being your time, your moment to spread your wings, rise up and shine. Two other favorites amongst the plethora are two unreleased songs: "Slave (to your love)" - I love the intensity of the emotions in that song and how it presents the complications involved in the power of falling in love especially when there is fear involved. Then there's "Soar" - which is a song that speaks about rising up amidst the doubters and nay-sayers to soar and be everything you know you're meant to be.

What are you working on right now? Have you got anything coming up that you can talk about?

I'm currently working on bringing so many of these songs to the finish line. And let me tell you when that happens, I think I need to throw a special celebration!!!

And finally, what advice would you give to others aspiring to a life and career in music?

Keep that dream, that vision that you have in your mind alive and strong! There will be a lot of no's, doors that may close in your face, people who may not get it, doubt or discourage you, but if you believe in yourself and your dream and you know deep down inside that you've got something special to share KEEP GOING. Which is why resilience, perseverance, endurance, and developing a thick skin are not only huge assets, they are crucial for the music and entertainment industry (a lot of the greatest artists: singers, actors, directors, dancers, writers, comedians that we know of ALL went through so much rejection and doubt, but they persevered, made it, and became who we know of and admire now). Keeping it real, this industry is not for the faint of heart, so you need to be in it for the PASSION and not the money or the fame (there are faster and much easier ways to get "rich" and become famous, and there's no guarantee of that in the entertainment industry. Not everyone reaches that level of fame, power, success, wealth, and influence). You have to be in it because you truly LOVE it because there will be ups and downs during the journey. Keep your eyes open to advice and truth from people who have been or who are in the industry, don't walk in with rosy-colored glasses. Stay focused, be willing to work hard, and always be ready and willing to learn! Stay humble (don't let opportunities or circumstances get to your head), confident humility is a beautiful thing, and others will notice it in a GOOD way, it stands out (people are watching when you least expect it).

Shelby Bond | Theatre Producer | Performer

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 18 Oct 2023 00:01:31 GMT

Shelby Bond

Theatre Producer | Performer

Shelby, you are a man of many hats. Tell us a little bit about who you are and what you do and how you got connected to Epiphany Space.

When I was seven my mother had a live daytime television talk show in Texas. When a guest wouldn’t show, or they needed some filler I’d get thrown on camera to do things like talk about dogs or do a magic trick.

A lot of kids growing up in a small, conservative town don’t get to let their freak flag fly but if you find your people you can create art and find your expression wherever you are. I found the community theatre and between that and a supportive family, that was where I learned exactly who I was.

Where does the inspiration come from in creating immersive experiences?

To quote Lynn Gardner of The Guardian, "We are no longer content to sit quietly in our seats when we can storm the stages." Instead of just being spectators, we should have the opportunity to be INSIDE of a story, to be a part of it. When I was getting my master’s degree at the Royal Central School in London in 2019, I studied the differences between interactive, immersive, participatory, and experiential theatre. At the time I was house-sitting all-over London, 26 homes total, so I was alone in other people’s space, feeling like a ghost in their world. I felt that I was inside their history and could almost feel their lives which made me, more than ever, want to know people’s stories.

Take us through the process of bringing one of these shows to life, from the initial inspiration to the finished product.

I particularly love doing site-specific shows that bring the history of a place to life so when I go into a building the first thing I do is learn and imagine the things that have transpired within those walls. (I’m a sucker for historic placards.) Then the research begins. I believe that the things that are most personal are the most universal, so I try to deep dive into the lives of people who stood where I am.

Story creation is what most artists love. What is mostly often despised is how to monetize it. So, to get from inspiration to presentation, and do it in a sustainable fashion, you have to think about insurance, ticket platforms, marketing, parking and 1000 other logistical elements.

What are some of your favorite shows you’ve put together, and what is it that made them special?

My favorite is one I actually produced at Epiphany Space. It’s called The Shadow Space and as Media Geeks said, “It simply refuses to be put into tidy little categories.”

The audience is dead and gets to serendipitously spy on the living as they enter a house and get to invisibly follow the residents, learning their secrets and finding ways to interact through the veil between worlds. What I love most about it is how quickly the ghosts (audience) accept that they can’t be seen by the living (actors) and immerse themselves in their world.

What are some of your favorite shows you’ve been involved in where you weren’t the creator/director/main creative force?

One of my first roles was one of the most impactful. Being the lead in a Texas production of “Brighton Beach Memoirs” was very influential to me because my character, Eugene, constantly talks to the audience, taking himself out of the timeline to form a personal relationship with the audience. I found this absolutely thrilling to create a connection in and outside of the story.

What was it like going to Edinburgh Fringe? What was your experience there?

The Edinburgh Fringe is the most challenging time I’ve ever had, and that’s saying a lot considering I grew up riding in rodeos. The average audience size at that Fringe is FOUR PEOPLE. Doing the show is the easy part, spending all day trying to get people to come is the real work. But, there’s nothing like it, shows everywhere, 24 hours a day for a full month. Hiking up Arthur’s Seat and watching the sunrise over the city on the last day, you feel like you’ve moved the mountain yourself.

What have you got coming up in the near future, and where and how can we check it out?

I’ll be doing shows in April/May at the Original Renaissance Pleasure Faire in the LA area. If you’ve never been, this has been the world’s largest participatory theatre event since 1962. I’ll be doing a One-Man Romeo & Juliet as well as the comedy prequel to Hamlet.

And finally, do you have any advice or words of wisdom for other performance artists who may be considering putting together an immersive show of their own, but don’t know where to start?

Any kind of theatre is primarily about connection, about stories and emotions that we find our own relationship to. Immersive theatre is simply taking the next step and giving the audience agency within that space. So, first off, what story or feelings do you want to evoke? What new perspective would you like to be given if you went to an event? It could be something as simple as having an actor speak directly to you, guiding you into the narrative or something as specific as having to stop Jack the Ripper by following clues around a neighborhood, to rob a bank, or to figure out a combination based on the meter of a sonnet… anything. Just dream a world you want to be in. Then you have to do the work.

Shelby lives in Los Angeles and joined Epiphany Space in 2017. He regularly supports and collaborates with fellow creators of all types, and can always be counted on to do some great baking for community potlucks.

Connect with Shelby through his website, ShelbyBond.com .

Mikaela Bruce | Film Director

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 05 Oct 2023 02:58:39 GMT

Mikaela Bruce | Film Director

Tell us a bit about who you are and what you do, and how you got involved with Epiphany Space.

Hey there! My name is Mikaela. I’m originally from Arizona and have lived all over. I’m now LA-based and work on independent film projects as a narrative writer-director. I’m also a new mom and that is actually the most challenging and most rewarding job I’ve ever had!

I originally got involved at Epiphany in 2019. It was my first year in LA and I was looking to build my creative community as a newbie in the city. And I'm glad I did! I ended up meeting some great friends that I am still in touch with today.

What first drew you to filmmaking? How did you first start making films?

I was first drawn to filmmaking through my time acting. I had done theater and acting throughout childhood and into high school and also did some more professional courses in college. When it came time to choose a degree path I opted for film which included my passion for acting and would also allow me to learn what was happening behind the camera, which was very intriguing to me. I also began taking film studies courses that really opened me up to the incredible cinema of the world and broadened my idea of what a film could be. I loved the exposure I gained especially to auteur film directors like Win Wenders, Krzysztof Kieślowski, and Pedro Almodovar. This sparked a dream of moving to Europe and making films there - more on that later.

I understand you did an internship on the set of LOST. What was that experience like? What did the internship entail, and what kind of impact would you say it’s had on your career since?

Another highlight from my time studying film was the opportunity to intern on LOST for a semester during the 4th season of the show. It was great to get a big picture overview of the whole (enormous) process involved in making a show of that scale. I also really loved getting to observe some of the incredible artists working in the art department to create many of the items that ended up in front of the camera and all of the artistry in general that comes together to make a show stand out. Despite the great experience I had on LOST, I didn’t feel it was time for me to jump straight into the “big industry” and move to LA. I wanted more time to grow as a person, learn a different language, and develop my voice as a filmmaker. All that led me to move to Spain where I got the chance to do all of those things. I don’t regret this decision even though it did make it more challenging to come to LA a bit later in life. However, when I made the move here just 4.5 years ago I had a clearer sense of what I wanted to make and what my unique vision is as a storyteller.

What gets you excited about a film project? How do you decide, “This is the project I’m going to take on next”?

When I’m deciding to work on a new project, what's most important to me is a sense of deep connection to the material, especially if I didn’t write it myself. When I am writing an original script I usually lean towards something that feels vital - that it doesn’t currently exist and absolutely must. I also need to sense that the timing is right for that particular film. The further I go along in this work the more I realize how important timing is for the films that we are putting out into the world. I look around and think about what questions the world is asking, what questions am I asking? I try to decipher what are the stories that I want to see that aren’t being made and also something that is new and challenging for me, that will allow me to grow and learn in my craft. Without a doubt, I am very interested in seeing female protagonists on screen and looking at their unique and beautiful lives in more nuanced ways than we’ve necessarily seen before.

What are you working on right now? And what are your plans for the future?

I’ve recently wrapped post-production on a new short called Not Afraid which will premiere this November at LA SKINS fest. The film tells the story of a young Native American girl in Montana struggling to cope after her family was touched by an epidemic known as MMIW (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women). I’m really thankful for the wonderful team I got to create this film with and the opportunity we had to tell a story with a very urgent message. My plans for the future definitely involve making a feature film. Those of us who have made enough shorts understand how difficult it can be to make it sustainable, though it’s probably the best place for learning the craft, building your team, and figuring out where you want to go with storytelling.

Last but not least, do you have any advice or words of wisdom for aspiring filmmakers or people looking to get started in the film industry?

My advice for those wanting to get into filmmaking - this one is tough because everyone is so different in how they operate and make decisions. I will say for me I realized eventually that it is more beneficial for me to lean into my strengths as a director and the more I do that the more confident I become when it comes to pitching myself which is a part of the job many of us (me included) would rather skip! However, the more you get comfortable with it the easier it becomes and it’s a good thing because the world needs more authentic storytellers and we’d be missing out without your stories in the world!

There can be a lot of disappointment connected with a life pursuing the arts. I think it’s really important to stay connected to your source of inspiration and what motivates you to create. When you lose touch of that source things can get really discouraging and confusing. I think having a creative community and mentors can play a big role to help remind you why you started out in the first place and cheer you on when you find yourself in a challenging time.

I think one of my biggest pieces of advice is similar to the last - it’s about people and community. Your ability to make anything or get anything done in film - indie or otherwise- is completely contingent on others. Filmmaking is collaborative and it behooves you to build genuine friendships with others pursuing the same thing. This is mutually beneficial because you can learn from your friends and they can learn from you, you will grow together and look out for one another. It’s not always about networking events because many times you never see some of those people again. I recommend connecting with people based on interests and being able to support one another’s work in a real way. By doing this not only will you have support for your work you’ll have good friends who will understand the strange and amazing world of being a filmmaker.

Connect with Mikaela Bruce
Instagram: @mikaelabruce

Matt Yeoman | Videogropher | Professor

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 21 Sep 2023 03:13:08 GMT

Matt Yeoman | Videogropher | Professor

Hi, Matt! So, to start with, tell us a bit about who you are, what you do, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

So, I first heard of Epiphany Space back when it was a dream in Melissa Smith’s heart to create intentional community in Los Angeles for creatives. It has been amazing to see it manifest and be so meaningful for so many people as they work towards the dreams in their hearts.

Just like so many, I am not originally from Los Angeles. I came out almost 20 years ago to pursue my dreams. And also like so many people it has been a long grueling journey with moments of really feeling in my element. Being from Ohio, I always felt like there was something different about me. I found that I never quite fit in and always had bigger and deeper dreams than anyone else could really see. Coming out to Los Angeles and being involved in Epiphany Space, I have come to find my people.

Now I am involved in the videography world mainly behind the camera on small projects. I am also a property manager, professor, and freelance bartender (nothing like surviving in LA as a creative!)

How did you first get into videography? What’s your journey been like?

Well, I started off in still photography. And not photography as in professional but as in I just enjoyed it. I grew up always being drawn to the camera. My family would tell me stories of being a toddler and instantly smiling when someone would point a camera in my direction. I am not sure what it was that intrigued me. I was just recently home where a lot of those photos that I had taken growing up are framed on my family’s walls although honestly, I am still amazed that many of those (35mm film photos taken out car windows or spontaneous shots in the moment) even turned out as good as they did.

I actually got more involved in videography when I started working as a PA with some friends. I mean, I always liked movies and the genre of film but I never thought I would be involved in the art form.

What also drew me to stills was the opportunity to capture that moment that will never happen again, perhaps the moment that nobody else noticed. I guess the intrigue of film is the opportunity to also capture those moments now just with motion and sound.

What’s the creative process like for creating a video? What kind of planning goes into it? How does the planning for a video project differ from the planning for a still photography project?

The planning process for a video can get very complicated very quickly. And like any creative venture, we can plan and plan and then get stuck in the process and never execute the craft.

The main difference in planning a video rather than a still simply means there are a lot more details to think through. For a still, we are looking for the subject and we plan and play with the light so that it illuminates in just the right way. For videos, we are creating a narrative of sequential photos. So the planning of narrative and story becomes all that more necessary (how and when subjects move, how scenes cohere, changing of camera angles and lenses to create effect, and to a certain extent controlling light and sound) even if that story will eventually change in post.

But like any creative venture, it starts with an idea. Because the planning process is a little more complicated, there is a temptation to not see the idea become reality. At the end of the day, we just have to go out and do it.

What are some of your favorite projects you’ve worked on, and what was it that set them apart? Who are some of your heroes? Who inspires you?
I have had the privilege to work on some cool shoots. Still, the ones that stand out are the ones that have individual significance. I was able to create a promo film for a friend who is developing their themed entertainment design career. It was an honor to be able to help showcase his work and capture the passion that he has about his craft that not everyone gets to see.

However, probably the most meaningful was simply capturing my grandmother on my iPhone as she told stories that we had all heard but did not have on film. It wasn’t planned but what I was able to get is irreplaceable. We would lose her about a year later and I can return to these short videos as a reminder of her voice, humor, and enjoyment of life.

It reminds me of Robert Downey Jr’s new documentary of his dad “Sr.” There is so much content being created these days on the multiple platforms. But I guess we have opportunities as videographers to capture the truly priceless moments.

And finally, what advice would you give to anyone aspiring to get into film and video?

For those aspiring to get more into film, I will steal some wisdom from Ron Howard. He suggested watching your favorite sequence in a movie without sound. Watch the camera angles with the mix of wides and close, the framing, and the use of different setups as they are shot at different times/locations. This is helpful not only in understanding the planning of a shot list but also how each of these plays into the story being told.

I will leave with the words of Werner Herzog from his Masterclass on filmmaking. “Go out. Make films. Don’t be a loser.” As creatives, stepping out to create can often be the hardest step, so at the end of the day we just need to get out and shoot.

Connect with Matthew Yeoman
Instagram: @matthewyeoman

REWIND: Elle Shaw | Actor, Producer, Festival Director

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 16 Aug 2023 00:31:53 GMT

Elle Shaw

Actor, Producer, Festival Director

Tell us a bit about your acting career. When and how did you get started, and what first drew you to film?

In my second year of college I took an acting class as an elective. I was always curious about acting and thought there might be something there. It turns out I LOVED the class. Soon after there was a production of The Vagina Monologues that came to our university so I auditioned and was cast in two monologues. One of them was rather comedic and when the audience laughed, that was it for me. At the time I was too afraid to switch my major so I finished my degree and then my husband and I moved West so that I could properly train and pursue acting.

I have always had a love for film. My brother and I both worked at the big movie theatre in my hometown and watching films with my dad was a favorite pastime. I loved watching people on screen and allowing them to make me feel things I otherwise didn’t know how to allow or access.

How about producing? What’s your experience been like behind the camera, and how does it compare to your experiences in front of it?

I rather stumbled into producing but it seems to align with my natural skillsets and a piece of my personality so I’ve really come to enjoy it. Being in front or behind the camera use different sides of my brain so they really don’t compare other than the collaborative aspect, which is my favorite part of being an artist. I love working with a team or a director or other artists to come together to create something as one.

What are some of your favorite roles you’ve played, or projects you’ve worked on over the years? What draws you to a project?

I played a cop in a short film named Wolves. This is one of my favorite roles thus far as I got to do research and chat with a member of the crisis team in the LAPD. It also challenged me in ways that I did not expect due to the nature of the story.

It sounds cliché but if the role scares me or I think I can’t do it then I know I have to. As a human my goal in life is to be challenged and to grow so that is no different in my art.

You also serve as Festival Director for the Salute Your Shorts film festival. How did you first find out about the festival? What does the position entail, and what has the experience been like?

I first found out about the festival via a posting in WIMPS. It’s a large group of women in the film industry. I then researched the festival and applied as they were looking for programmers to join their team.

This is my first year stepping into the Festival Director role. It has certainly been challenging. Mostly because I just had a baby. Everyone has been incredibly supportive as my schedule has adapted, which has been amazing. My position produces the event that is the festival. This year we are making changes and trying to expand the festival in new ways, which has been a lot of fun to spearhead alongside our Artistic Director Erin Brown Thomas. I find each week that I’m becoming more comfortable and finding my lane, which is adding to my confidence.

In addition to film, you also have a fair bit of stage experience, and produced a critically-acclaimed tour of a show called The Creeps. Tell us a bit about that, and the experience of producing for the stage versus producing for the screen.

Working with Catherine Waller on her one woman show, The Creeps has been a highlight of my producing career. We didn’t know one another but I loved her show and offered to help, leading to my stepping in to produce the tour and later the show alongside her. We have traveled with the show and had much acclaim, which has been a bonus to the entire experience.

Producing in general is mostly a series of anticipating problems and solving them. You help make the project a reality and each project's needs are different, which keeps it interesting. The difference between stage versus screen is not all that different really, it’s just the medium.

What have you got in the works right now? What's next for Elle Shaw?

Right now I’m just focused on the Festival as we are in programming mode and ramping up for full Festival preparation. I’m really focusing on what’s in front of me right now without looking too far ahead. Being present for my two little ones under 2, and the Salute Your Shorts Film Festival have my current attention.

I’m also writing my first feature film. I have plans for it but one thing at a time.

What advice or words of wisdom do you have for anyone looking to pursue a career in film?

My advice would be, if you really love it no one can stop you from doing it. Remember that when times are challenging.

Jenna Cunningham aka Jenna Isn't Famous | Artist | Singer-songwriter

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 02 Aug 2023 17:57:35 GMT

Jenna Cunningham aka Jenna Isn't Famous

Artist | Singer-songwriter

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space. Who inspires you?

I had been writing music since I was in elementary school and always knew it was what I wanted to do. I moved to Los Angeles in the fall of 2017 and one of the first things I did my first week here, was Google “open mics in LA.” I called around and the first 5 places or so I called told me their open mic that was listed was no longer active. I began to feel discouraged, but then I rang up Epiphany Space. I spoke to Cortney on the phone and she told me the open mic was still very much active and happening that night, but that it was really more of a songwriter share, and asked if that was okay. I thought that was even cooler than an open mic and drove to Hollywood very excited.

It was such a special space because contrary to some other open mics in LA, people really listened and cared for the other artists in the room. I got so inspired by the other artists who I am now lucky to call my friends: Cortney, Ben, Katie, Lloyd, Brandon, and Tim! It was such a lovely night because not only did you get to share the delicate art you’d been creating from your soul, you got to hear feedback in real-time about what resonated with the audience, as well as ways to make your song even better.

What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

Someone I’ve been really inspired by lately is an artist named Julia Wolf. She has this really dope half-sung, half-rapped flow in her music. Something I really love about her is that she has almost no love songs in her discography and has instead found unique subject matter that a lot of people don’t touch on, like how she feels around strangers. Especially as a songwriter who’s been single for 3 years, it’s really cool to know it’s possible to make amazing music that resonates with people, even if it’s not about the universal theme of love.

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

I think the biggest challenge is realizing your music success progresses at about a 4 times slower rate than we’d like it to. I’ve really had to work on my patience and letting go of control of external circumstances. I’ve gone through a couple of different producers, and when one didn’t work out it really tripped me up for a while. I’ve learned sometimes you just have to take a step back from the reins and let the universe work its magic. I now finally have a consistent producer I’ve done my last 3 songs with. My producer Jay actually found me. He heard one of my songs through the Spotify algorithm and reached out to me on Instagram with a really sweet message about my music. I liked him instantly because his message didn’t feel like a transaction, it was simply heartfelt. I checked out his stuff and we arranged a phone call and he ended up being the exact collaborator I needed. We communicate our musical ideas really well together!

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

Yes! I just finished up a song with Jay called “Broken Men.” You know what they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. It’s a song that’s filled with empowering rage. Whenever I’ve played this song live, I always have a couple women come up to me and tell me that they’ve been through a similar situation with a guy and feel catharsis hearing this tune. So I’m really excited to have this out in the world. I hope anyone scorned in love can scream-sing it in their car, and use it as a form of therapy and healing from the person who didn’t treat them right.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

Five years from now I see myself having a solid enough fanbase to tour around the country for about 3 months a year, and supporting myself financially solely through my music. I absolutely love performing live, there’s nothing like it. In my day-to-day life, I am relatively even-tempered with my emotions. Performing is the place I give myself permission to let loose with my emotions. The way I express myself on stage is really heightened. It’s therapeutic for me and I hope that authenticity is therapeutic for the crowd. I’d love to have performing be a routine part of my life for a good portion of the year. I also really love the sanctuary of my home though, so I’d want to make sure I could keep that balance of having some time on the road and some time back in my Los Angeles apartment by the beach.

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

Patience is a virtue. Especially in the way the internet and social media have reconditioned our brains, we want everything when we want it. It can be really frustrating to know we’ve put in the work and time but not see the results quite yet. I believe that timing is everything. If I had gotten fame quickly when I moved here 6 years ago, I would be thrown into a world where people leech onto you and use you, at a time when I didn’t know how to speak my mind. Since then I’ve gone to therapy and really developed a vocabulary for how to stick up for myself. I’ve also built a strong community of friends who are truly quality humans. They show up for me in ways that make me so awestruck and grateful. I’m lucky to know those people are friends with me for me, and not what I can do for them. My advice would be to find that community for yourself. Having that support system is just as, if not more, important than achieving your career goals. Because when you achieve those goals, you want people around you who will genuinely celebrate you. And make sure you show up for those people and celebrate them as well.

Suzanne Yada | Singer-songwriter | Digital Marketing Specialist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Thu, 20 Jul 2023 01:53:48 GMT

Suzanne Yada | Singer-songwriter | Digital Marketing Specialist

Hi, Suzanne! Tell us a bit about who you are and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

Now, you have a number of talents. To start with, you’re a singer, songwriter, and musician. How would you categorize your music style? What are some of your favorite songs you’ve written?

I've been told my music sounds like if Fiona Apple wrote songs about robots, and that is probably the most accurate description I've ever heard of my music.

What’s your process like when it comes to writing songs? Where do you get inspiration?

Your website mentions creating zines at your dad’s print shop. I feel like there’s a story there, and I would very much like to hear it. Tell us about the zines!

What have you got in the works? Any projects you can talk about? What can we expect from you in the future, as a musician, as a consultant, or both?

Lastly, what would you say is the best way that artists and creatives can support each other and help one another along their journeys?

Connect with Suzanne Yada / @ Little Spiral @
Website: https://littlespiral.com/

Erin Brown Thomas | Screenwriter | Director | Part 2

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 05 Jul 2023 20:08:35 GMT

Erin Brown Thomas

Screenwriter | Director
Part 2

You recently went to Cannes with A Question of Service, the short you made with fellow Epiphany Space member Hans Obma. What was Cannes like? Tell us about that experience.

Yes! Hans Obma and I did attend Cannes with A Question of Service which he wrote and starred in. I directed and edited. We were joined by my husband (and fellow Epiphany Space member) Jake Thomas, Our Producer (and Salute your Shorts Film Festival Director) Elle Shaw, our Post Producer Gabrielle Adrien, and our French language consultant Lucie Souvigne.

We had a lovely screening in the Emerging Filmmaker Showcase at AMPAV with an incredibly positive response. We also ate waaaaaaay too much pizza and ice cream. But is that even really a thing?

For those who haven’t been, or are not familiar, I’ll break Cannes Film Festival down into its four parts: Festival du Cannes, Marché du Film, The International Village, and the Parties.

First Festival du Cannes. This is probably what you think of when you think of Cannes. Wes Anderson, for instance, premiered his new film Asteroid City there. We attended the premiere in formal attire and got to take pictures on the red carpet.

A photographer pulled us aside for portraits ahead of the May December screening. Be watching for May December to get a release date because…. Drumroll, please…. Hans is in it! He acts opposite Natalie Portman in his scenes.

In addition to these “In Competition” films competing for the Palme d‘Or, Festival du Cannes also premieres some high-profile content out of competition from big-name creators like Martin Scorsese (The Killers of Flower Moon) and Sam Levinson (The Idol). This year there were eleven short films competing for the highest honor at the festival, only one (Poof) was American and happens to be produced by a Salute Your Shorts Alum, Natalie Metzger. Only films under 15 minutes can compete for this award. Director’s Fortnight and Acid screenings are also part of Festival du Cannes.

Marché du Film refers to the film market at Cannes. You need a Marché pass to go inside. Anyone can purchase one for roughly $500. Inside the market, there were two floors worth of booths where distributors sought new content to purchase. This would be similar to American Film Market which comes to Santa Monica every November. There are parties every day in the Market, which you can get invited to if you RSVP through the proper channels. Some channels are easier to find than others.

The Marché also has screenings. On the short film side, there is the “short film corner”. Thousands of short films participate here. There’s an element of “pay to play” going on here. If you have a film under 15 minutes and you want to go to Cannes, your best bet is to submit it here. It’s not incredibly competitive, but it does give you the ability to say you are attending with a film. The Marché also has special screenings of feature films that are looking for distribution. This is more selective than "short film corner."

The International Village is the other thing you probably think of when someone mentions Cannes. When you see the pictures with all of the white tents lining the Ocean Shore, that’s the International Village. Every participating country has a pavilion. If you want to meet film commissioners and learn about tax incentives and co-production opportunities available in various countries and territories, the International Village is your education. Some of the Pavilions also had their own contests and content. These are more selective and competitive than the Marche screenings. The American Pavilion (AMPAV), where A Question of Service screened is the biggest and most popular Pavilion in the International Village. It’s a networking hotspot. AMPAV hosted all kinds of talkbacks, where talents like Marion Cotillard and filmmakers like Todd Haynes would chat about their films. They even hosted Hans and I after our screening.

Finally, the fourth component of Cannes is the parties. There are parties everywhere. Depending on who you are, you’ll get invited to different ones. I’ll compare Cannes to Sundance since it’s the other high-profile market film festival I’ve attended. Cannes is much larger than Sundance and way more segregated. At Sundance, you go to parties and are surrounded by recognizable actors and producers.

Cannes is a world stage. The American celebrities who are there are (for the most part) at different parties than the filmmakers or Marché pass holders.

That being said, there are still pretty cool events that selected filmmakers such as Hans and myself could get into, provided we get on the right list in time. I really enjoyed the Variety / Stage 32 Formal Beach party.

And Jake and I were ushered unexpectedly one night into an immersive theater bar experience, where we were recruited into smuggling Rum out of Cuba in 1959.

All in all, I think it’s best to go into Cannes with a plan for everyone you want to connect with, but also be in the moment and enjoy your time there. It’s a very exclusive and elitist environment that can be taxing and disappointing from time to time. But it’s important to realize that you always make your best impressions with a smile on your face, and you never know who might be standing shoulder to shoulder with you at any moment.

And finally, what advice would you give to anyone looking to pursue a career in film?

It’s certainly a roller coaster that you need to be prepared for. I think being a likable, driven person who loves meeting new people and works consistently at their craft is anyone’s best bet. Network your ass off. But look to genuinely help everyone you meet.

Erin Brown Thomas | Screenwriter | Director | Part 1

Wed, 21 Jun 2023 19:30:32 GMT

Erin Brown Thomas

Screenwriter | Director

Hi, Erin! To start with, tell us a bit about who you are and what you do, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

Melissa Smith and I became close friends in 2010. When she told me about her dream for Epiphany, I immediately embraced it and wanted to help. We actually started co-working in my Silverlake apartment. Our first group project?… A fundraising video to help us launch the first public Epiphany location on St. Andrews in Hollywood.

How did you get into film?

I got into film because I wanted to make a statement. A friend of mine was getting kicked out of our Christian college for reasons that I deemed to be utter bullshit. I made a satirical comedy to point out the absurdity and hypocrisy of several on-campus rules. A professor told me that I “had poise” and encouraged me to dig into film further. So, the next year, while still double majoring in Philosophy and Theology, I made my second film starring my now-husband Jake (yes, we met though making movies together). After that film, I knew I wanted to continue. I changed my major and moved out to LA. The rest is history.

Who are some of the filmmakers who have inspired you?

There are so many. But I’ll give shoutouts to Spike Jonze, Yorgos Lanthimos, David Lowery, Sofia Coppola, PT Anderson, Laura Moss, Jim Cummings, Tina Fey, Ben Stiller, Michele Gondry, The Russo Brothers, John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein, and Niki Lindroth von Bahr.

What are some of your favorite projects you’ve worked on? And what was it that made them special?

Honestly, my favorite projects are one’s I’ve written that I have not gotten to shoot yet. They live in my brain, in their most perfect form, haha. They are special because I wrote them. I actually have never directed a film that I wrote solely myself. But that will change soon.

Here are the loglines of the three completed feature films I’m assembling finances for right now.

THE BODY OF CHRIS — When a manic youth pastor streaks through a Sunday service, church leadership finds themselves center stage in an escalating PR nightmare with only an agnostic intern to instruct them. The fate of their community hangs on the question: “How should the body of Christ handle the body of Chris?”
EMERGENCY CONTACT — During the week of her best friend’s wedding, career-driven IZ COOPER learns she’s the emergency contact for an unpopular, newly-deceased acquaintance. Iz’s resentment towards the dead girl grows as she’s forced to juggle best friend duties for both a wake and a high-profile wedding. But as Iz uncovers the broad strokes of this desperate addict’s final year, she discovers a precious friendship she neglected and learns that someone’s net worth is more than their network.
ITALY ’99 — Ditching her class field trip on a dare, a fiercely driven and religiously devout know-it-all American High schooler embarks on a solo journey across Italy. Her meticulous plans unravel. Broke, exhausted, and hundreds of miles off course, she’s offered shelter by a gentle Italian family. As the tempo of her trip slows, her whole world expands and she takes on her biggest challenge yet: surrender.

I’m also excited for everyone to see A Question of Service when we release it online, as well as [subtext] which will be premiering soon at the Academy Award-Qualifying Indy Shorts. Some of my films that are already available to view online include Rekindled, Feeling Flush, But First…, Human, Hotwire, and Young + Beautiful.

How does the creative process differ in directing a project you wrote yourself versus directing a project written by someone else?

It takes less time to envision the end product when you wrote something yourself. I also think it’s possibly easier to find an original tone. It just comes from you in a more pure way.

That being said, I love collaborating. As I approach directing the feature scripts I’ve written, I still want feedback and ideas from key creatives on my team.

In addition to making your own films, you also run a short film festival. How did Salute Your Shorts come about? What’s it like running a festival?

Salute Your Shorts exists because Melissa Smith connected Becky Murdoch and me. We had independently been talking about a film festival and once the two of us got in the same room, the vision grew quickly.

Running a festival is a lot of work. It means watching a LOT of short films, and the programming team and I spend just as much time talking about these films and their merits. It’s tough saying “no” to so many worthy films, but we keep our lineup slim every year so that we can put our full promotional energy behind the small lineup of films we choose to champion.

Running the festival has become a beautiful way for me to support my peers while doing targeted networking. I’ve made so many friends and collaborators through our alumni community. Also, putting together a lineup every year helps me feel less competitive (in a good way). When my film plays alongside a great film at another festival, I think “Oh wow, I’d love to share this at SYSFF” instead of “Oh no. Is this film better than mine?”

Our 7th annual festival is August 18-20th at the Assistance League Theatre in Hollywood. Mark your calendars and see you there!

What’s your dream project? What would you most like to be working on?

I would unabashedly love to direct on the TV show Severance.

Kara Christensen | Screenwriter | Playwright | Game Creator

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 17 May 2023 20:18:47 GMT

Kara Christensen

Screenwriter, Playwright, & Game Creator

How did you first get involved with Epiphany Space?
I met Melissa Smith years ago and she told me her dream was to start Epiphany Space. We jumped up and down in her apartment the day the paperwork went through. And early on gathered in her living room.

From there, I have co-hosted a writer’s group, and write-a-thons, met fabulous friends, wrote and directed a show for Fringe, and created an Escape Room with amazing people behind those doors. The magic of Epiphany and LA, in general, is watching your own and others' dreams go from words to realities.

What creative people or creative works make you say, "I want to do that"?
Amy Sherman-Palladino and her husband, Dan Palladino, write such witty, fast-paced dialogue that also captures the ridiculousness of life. Their work makes me so happy, and I would love to write things that have a similar feel.

A lot of my writing is dialogue heavy. And my writing style is the same thing but called something different in different mediums. It’s farce for stage, sitcoms for TV, and romantic comedy for movies. I’ve produced and directed my writing for the stage.

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?
I moved to L.A. during a recession and a writer’s strike. So at first getting a job, any job was a struggle. I spent a lot of time praying to make rent, and honestly have lots of stories of God producing last-minute gigs that got me through. So thankful for all the times he provided when I was so certain that it was impossible. Glad to be constantly wrong. :)

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?
I’m always working on something. Right now I’m working on finishing a screenplay. However, I would love to get one of my short plays into the Hollywood Fringe next summer.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you?
My creative interests vary and go in so many directions, I make games, I make stop motions, I write screenplays, I write stage plays, I give feedback on other people’s scripts, and on occasion I build puppets. I would love to have someone take something I’ve written or made and produce, publish, or move it into another step.

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?
Keep creating. If you love what you are making then it’s worth it.

Chris Krebsbach | Filmmaker | Film & Television Production

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 03 May 2023 20:44:11 GMT

Chris Krebsbach

Filmmaker, Film & Television Production

So, tell us a bit about who you are, and how you first got involved with Epiphany Space.

I’m not sure why telling you a little bit about who I am seems like such a difficult task in this moment. It’s probably because who we are and what we do are so often intertwined and the “what I do” question is not 100% clear to me right now.

I’m someone who has been in Los Angeles for 20 years but is still trying to hone in on what delights her in creativity and career. I haven’t totally found the words to say who I am succinctly. On good days, I remember that that’s because I’m delighted by more than one thing, and labeling myself makes me feel stuck. On bad days, I wonder if I’ll ever “find my way” and figure out how to label myself.

I’m part small-town Wisconsin, part world traveler. I’m an aunt, a great aunt, a sister, a daughter, and a loyal friend. I’m part independent woman and part “please, just tell me what to do”. I’m part actor, part director, part producer, part wish-I-had-cheaper-hobbies-than-filmmaking, part “always looking for the answer”, part happy as is.

I first got involved in Epiphany Space by knowing Melissa, Becky, Erin, Cortney, and others through our relationships at Ecclesia Hollywood (a church we all attended together). Though I’m definitely an on-again-off-again (some might say barely there) participant in the amazing offerings of the organization, I’ve always loved having a place to check in when I needed it. For years, it was a support to me as I worked in a college program dedicated to supporting young filmmakers from all over the country. Epiphany was always a place where I could turn to feed my own need for creative community and they provided great internships and support for my students as well.

I found the seeds of motivation (and one of my locations) to finally direct my third short film while participating in an Artists Way group, hosted by Epiphany. I’ve found a place to process the big emotions that come from not always knowing the direction I want to go. And I really appreciate the female creators and entrepreneurs I’ve found through that space.

Who inspires you? What creative people or creative works make you say, “I want to do that”?

As a 70s baby/ 80s kid, I was really inspired by Steven Spielberg in my young life. I would make a guess that 98% of people I studied acting and film with would have pointed to him and his work as being the thing that pointed us to working in film. E.T. is one of the first movies I can remember watching and will always be a favorite of mine.

One individual I’m inspired by is Epiphany Space’s own Erin Brown. She’s someone who was once a student of mine and has become a friend over the years. She is truly dedicated to her craft and laser-focused on developing her career. She’s definitely a person I think about when I consider a can do/get it done/don’t stop moving forward attitude.

I’m still inspired by sitting in a movie theater and being moved to laughing, crying, or just appreciating something that seems impossible appearing on the screen.

I'm inspired by anyone who tells an interesting story with characters I truly care about. I’m inspired by talented actors who transform themselves right before our eyes. I’m inspired by production designers and set decorators who create something visually interesting out of the most mundane places. I’m inspired by people who are great at putting one foot in front of the other to continue to move in the direction of their dreams without knowing what the outcome might be.

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced along the way, and how did you deal with them?

I would say one of the biggest internal challenges I’ve faced in my career has been struggling to put one foot in front of the other to continue to move in the direction of my desires without knowing what the outcome might be. ☺

This is an area in which I continue to grow. As I got into my late 20s and 30s, self-doubt crept in in ways I hadn’t experienced before and I’m still unlearning some of the patterns established then. I could get into the whole psychology and the whys of that but that is way beyond the scope of The Spark and probably best left for the therapist’s chair.

Ironically, I spent those years helping others go in the direction they wanted even as I had a hard time doing it for myself. Having worked with close to 2000 college students in my time in LA, I have a number of people who have said to me that they might not be in Los Angeles had it not been for my involvement in their lives. I’ve never had a hard time believing that others can “do it” and find their way.

That’s why it’s so important for me to surround myself with people who believe the same for me…so they can remind me when I’m struggling to remember myself.

Are you working on anything cool or interesting right now? Anything you’d like to tell us about?

Ok, for those of you dying to work in Hollywood, bear with me on this one. I don’t know whether I would label this cool or interesting but…

I’m working as a production secretary in the production office on a feature film with a pretty all-star cast right now but truth be told, it is a GRIND. Working in Hollywood – especially at a studio level – does not always feel as cool or interesting as one might want it to feel. Some days are simply filled with clashing personalities, excel spreadsheets, and making sure that crew members have drive-ons to studio lots. But once in a while, you get these really beautiful moments of the magic and creativity that drew you to the work in the first place.

The film I’m working on right now is a holiday movie and our sets have been incredibly creative. We’ve got one set that’s really jaw-dropping when you first walk onto it and incorporates some new technology for building large-looking sets in smaller places. There’s a huge “naughty list” set piece that probably won’t be anything to someone watching the movie but for me, it will be this little moment on screen where so many people I’m working with get a little shout-out to say…you were a part of this. I’m on the naughty list for talking back to my parents which is, ironically, something I never really did much of in real life.

Where do you see your creative journey taking you? What would you like to be doing, say, five years from now?

To be honest, I’m really not sure. I’m, in some senses, starting my career from scratch right now but with 20 more years of experience working on lots of different kinds of projects than when I first arrived in Los Angeles. I’m working in the studio system for the first time, which was my original career intention, but I’m also working on a lot of independent non-union projects to fill in the gaps.

In five years, I’d like to have directed at least one more short and at best an independent feature. I’d like to have found my groove and creative fulfillment in whatever I’m doing career-wise. Because I’m someone who has strong leadership and left-brain tendencies, I often get pegged more in producing and managing types of roles…which, to be fair, I studied in grad school. I’m working to find my specific path that allows me to access both my logistical brain (the things that others see as my strongest skill sets) and my creative desires (the things that make me feel most alive). When I find the moments where those things truly merge, I try to take note because those moments give me clues to continue making steps forward.

What advice would you give to other artists and creatives in your field? Any words of wisdom for those looking to follow in your footsteps?

Surround yourself with people who are kind and supportive of your talents and desires. Not people who will lie and tell you that you are better than you are but people who are invested in your growth and your happiness.
Don’t stop going after the “thing” and also be open to the windy road ahead. Our desires mean something and can point us in a direction but for many of us, they may feel conflicting or unreachable. I, for one, love a lot of things that don’t always feel in harmony with each other. Our desires/hopes/dreams/decisions may not take any sort of linear form or have a clear path and that can be really hard, especially if you fall into the comparison trap and look at how other people’s lives seem to be. So, take breaks along the way. Learn how and when to recharge yourself and rest so you can keep going on whatever journey you choose. And learn to ENJOY the whole journey and be present in the moment because many so-called destinations are just the beginning of the next leg.
That said, “giving up” doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It’s okay to change your mind.
Don’t be a jerk. (This is apparently much harder than it seems.)
There are so many reasons to beat ourselves up in this creative journey of life (not good enough, young enough, smart enough, talented enough…) and there are always reasons to stop trying new things (money, security, lack of confidence, etc), but I don’t think listening to those messages is what we’re meant for. If you’re someone who struggles with these sorts of thought patterns, know that you’re not alone and trust that there are ways to look them in the face, be kind to the parts of you who believe them, change your mind, and continue on.

Kimberly McGraw Moore | Writer | Artist

becky@epiphanyspace.com (Becky Murdoch) — Wed, 19 Apr 2023 04:49:44 GMT