The CEO of Everything

They say "jack of all trades, master of none," but they forgot to mention the part where the jack of all trades is also the camera woman, the makeup artist, and the person currently yelling at a tangled Wii microphone cable in a her own bathroom while recording herself singing and trying to make it look realistic and professional. (As professional as you can make it with nothing but a cell phone camera and a mic that doesn't work)

My writing used to be a quiet affair. Just me, my notebook, and too many emotions. But apparently, words on a page weren't enough. I decided to push my narrative boundaries by venturing into the musical wilderness, a place where my metaphors have to inconveniently be sung in key. (I'm still working on that).

Transitioning to a "musical storyteller" sounds dignified until you realize you are a one-woman production company with a budget of three dollars and a dream. My daily schedule looks like a schizophrenic’s to-do list:

4:00 AM: Write a soul crushing bridge about reclamation.

5:00 AM: Argue with myself over whether "black and white" or "sepia" looks better in my music video. (I lost the argument).

6:00 AM: Put on a corset and run around barefoot outside in the freezing cold for two hours to shoot footage without being seen by the neighbors, only to realize I forgot to press record.

1:00 PM: Attempt to record vocals that don't sound like a dishwasher dying a slow, off pitch death.

People think "independent artist" means creative freedom. What it actually means is that when the lyrics you wrote make you cry during filming, there is no makeup department. There is just me, shivering on the wet grass, trying to pat away tears with my lace skirt while maintaining a powerful look for the camera on my phone that is set on a timer.

I am the Director of Photography, which is a fancy way of saying I stacked my phone and laptop onto a laundry basket on a chair and hoped the autofocus didn't decide the trees behind me are the real stars of the show. I am the Lead Vocalist, though my neighbors probably think I’m just a woman who is very, very upset about her laundry. And I am the Lyricist, currently trying to figure out if "heartbreak" can rhyme with "protein shake" without losing my literary integrity. (Spoiler: It can’t).

Pushing the Envelope (And My Sanity)

Venturing into music was supposed to be a "lateral move" for my writing. It turns out it’s more of a vertical climb up a grease covered pole. I’m learning that a story doesn't just need a beginning, middle, and end anymore; it needs music and vocals that don't make people's ears bleed and a costume that doesn't shed glitter into my vocal cords while I’m trying to hit a high note.

It’s a humbling circus. There is a specific kind of ego death that occurs when you spend four hours contouring your face to look like a rock star, only to spend the next four hours listening to your own voice and realizing how horrible it is while fighting with a Capcut editor that hates you.

I’m doing it all. I’m the talent, the tech, and the person who has to sweep the floor and pick up the mess after the concert in my living room. It’s exhausting, it’s chaotic, and I’ve accidentally ripped out my natural lashes tearing off big false ones twice this month. But hey... at least the "creative meetings" are short, even if the CEO is a bit of a nightmare to work for.

The truth is, I’m not just doing this to see if I can set a tripod without poking an eye out. I’m doing this because my bucket list was starting to look like a "To-Do" list for a version of me that was too afraid to make noise. I decided it was time to stop being a spectator in my own creative life and start being the entire stadium... janitorial staff included.

Crossing things off the list feels great, though I’ll admit "Become a Musical Force of Nature" is a lot harder to check off than "Visit the Grand Canyon." For one, the Grand Canyon doesn't require you to learn how to get confident in your singing abilities and share them with the world at 3:00 AM.

The Setlist of My Psychosis

As I push my writing into this crazy musical territory, I’ve birthed a few "children." And like any parent, I love them, even if they’re a little weird and refuse to behave in the recording booth (my closet).

"Phoenix 2.0": This was supposed to be my majestic anthem of rebirth. This song was inspired by a poem I wrote and entered into the Last Flame challenge here on Vocal. Some of you may have seen me whining about losing that challenge because this poem meant so much to me. I could explain why, but it would take a while, and if you've read it- I'm sure the pieces aren't hard to fit together. That poem was important to me... and what inspired me to push things further. I reworked it a bit. I added a chorus and a bridge and thus began my delusional rise to imaginary musical fame. It’s a song about coming back stronger, which is ironic because I wrote the poem while I was mentally at my weakest, and then further defeated by my Vocal loss. the editing is a bit off. Seems when you use headphones to edit, the mouth doesn't always want to match up perfectly well. I'm still proud of it. I'm not a professional singer, be gentle 🥴 I also believe that every one of my songs sound better wearing headphones. (Probably due to editing them that way).

"Monster You Made": This is my snarky "thank you" note to everyone who ever hurt me. It’s dark, it’s edgy, and I did the makeup in the still myself. I spent an hour gluing toothpicks to my face to look like a monster, only for my neighbors to see me and ask if I was okay. Yes, Brenda, I’m fine... I’m just a cinematic monster taking selfies in my front yard. Let me live my life. This one is just the song, no video. Just a photo.

"Sprinkles the Clown": This one was... a journey. If you’ve ever wondered what happens when a writer has a bunch of dolls, paint, and a bag of miscellaneous crafting supplies, this is it. It’s upbeat, it’s fun, and maybe a little creepy. I also had to learn how to fix my laptop AND do a hard reset on my phone which both crashed multiple times during the creative process (Thanks Capcut) If that isn't the pinnacle of the one woman show experience, I don't know what is. This one is just a lyric video.

People have asked, (ok, one person has asked) "How do you balance the editing and camera work with the vocals and the songwriting?" I tell them the secret is a delicate balance of caffeine (I drank 9 Monsters creating these tracks) and complete lack of shame. When I’m the photographer, I’m yelling at the model (me) to "work the camera." When I’m the lyricist, I’m judging the vocalist (also me) for not hitting the right notes.

It’s a miracle we haven't fired each other yet.

But as I cross "Release a Single" and "Design a Concept Cover" off that bucket list, I realize the "One-Woman Show" isn't just about saving money on payroll. It’s about the fact that nobody else is crazy enough to follow me into these specific woods. I’m the only one who knows exactly how Sprinkles the Clown should sound when she’s inviting you to her carnival.

I’m pushing my writing into the stratosphere, one sepia-toned, vocally-strained, self-timed-photo-burst at a time. My bucket list is getting shorter, my hard drive is getting fuller, and my neighbors are getting closer to calling a priest. But honestly? I am having the time of my life, even if my vocals need some work. (Every single vocal you hear is my own voice btw... so I'm sorry to your ears. I'm the only one to blame here.)

There is a profound, messy beauty in being a one-woman show. It means that when I finally stand on that mountaintop as a Phoenix, haunt someone's dreams as the Monster You Made, or juggle my way through the chaos as Sprinkles, I know exactly who to thank for the success. .. and more importantly, I know exactly who to blame when the tripod falls over.

In conclusion: If you see me talking to myself, please don't interrupt. We’re having a very important production meeting, the Creative Director is being a diva, and the Makeup Artist just realized she’s out of eyeliner. It’s a circus, it’s a symphony, and it’s a miracle I haven't accidentally deleted myself during editing yet.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a rhyme for "existential crisis" that fits a bubble-goth beat.

I'd also like to quickly add I am working on one of my personal favorites that will be a whole thing! It might be my last one as well. Not sure yet... but I am traveling to a location and have a whole costume and music video planned and I am so excited to share that when I am done!

Ok, bye!