Print It!

The hardest part of recording isn’t writing the songs or arranging them or singing them or having musicians play them; it’s knowing when you’re done mixing.

The word “print” has been on my mind lately. To print means to make an impression. In art, this is usually creating an impression of an image with ink and, in audio recording, it’s morphed from making an indelible indentation in a wax disc to the act of making permanent what are usually flexible changes to a digital recording. I’ve been exploring both of those meanings these last two months through screen printing and digital recording and, man, does it shine a harsh light on my indecisiveness.

A couple weeks ago, I sat down in the studio with Nick Bullock and a big list of notes to start the process of refining the first round of mixes he sent me. I caught myself second guessing every change I asked him to make. Whatever I said was my decision would be the final decision. It would be how the record sounds - no takesies-backsies - and what if I was wrong? What if what I’m printing doesn’t make the impression I’m hoping to make? What impression do I want to make and did I do a good enough job to communicate it?

Luckily, I was in capable hands with Nick. The primary reason I’m working with him for the second time is because I trust him: I trust his artistic taste, I trust his opinions, I trust how he listens, and I trust the working relationship we have. So even if I don’t always trust myself, I know I can rely on him to make sure whatever we print is exactly what it should be.

As a control freak, I have a hard time living into phrases like “let go and let God” or “trust the process.” I have to actively take a breath and make the conscious choice to stop worrying and second guessing, which doesn’t always work.

But for some reason, I find it easier with art. Maybe it’s because I grew up with a painter or maybe it’s because ink and paint are permanent enough that I can’t second guess my choices, but I had a much easier time accepting the end results of my experiments with printing. This month I made this cool, rough-and-tumble aesthetic screen printed bag and I both trust and enjoy it’s imperfections.

Each one is unique; the ink didn’t make perfect, even contact each time; and I didn’t measure or line up because I realized pretty early in the process that I wasn’t going to get that look with my current set up. And I love them! Plus, they’re functional, which brings me a particular kinda of joy.

So maybe for 2020, I should try to apply my attitude to towards “mistakes” in visual art (there are no mistakes, just new directions) and apply it to my music, or maybe just my life in general! If you’re reading this and find yourself having those same paralyzing doubts I described above, I highly recommend printing something. It’s a good exercise in trusting the process.