to all the Not-World-Famous Creators

This was the view from the hilltop where the festival took place. Did I take a photo of the festival in full swing? No. I was too busy looking at the countryside.

I just went on a trip to England that included a few days at a music festival in the Cornwall region. It was a joyous experience, hearing folky music in the open air, accompanied by a breathtaking view and a sea breeze. I saw true talent. Musicians synched up and flowed. The songs they performed together were more than the sum of their parts. 

And I also saw a little discouragement. One spoke openly about how great it was to perform for an audience that was into the music, after so many bad gigs. He and his singing mate belted the blues like they were from Memphis, and classic westerns like they were from Texas. They spoke with British accents. 

It’s shocking to me to imagine anyone being in the same room with those guys and not be in awe, but performers have so much to compete with. Especially when their music is considered mere pleasant background sound. We all have access to songs of today, songs of yesterday, songs by AI, songs by famous people who may or may not be as talented as those I heard in person. It must be discouraging to creators who know a lot more about creating emotional connection than making money.

Which brings me to why I was there in the first place. 

It was because I was missing my mother on a very bad day, a few months after she passed (this was in the spring of 2024). I listened to a song that was about mourning a lost loved one. I had heard it before, but in a moment that will forever be sacred to me, I paid attention to the words. It was as if my mother was speaking directly to me. The song was about finding hope and living a full life after loss, and I knew that was what my mother wanted for me. Mom knew the things I still wanted to do. Publish a book. Travel to England. Eat healthier and move more. Listen to live music. Celebrate faith and family. 

That moment changed everything. I wanted to give us something more to talk about when we meet again. I still missed her. I miss her now, but I’m expressing it differently.

And that’s why I was there on a hilltop in southern Cornwall. Husband and I listened to a live performance by Roo Panes, the singer/songwriter who helped bring that transformative moment about. He’s not world-famous. He is immensely talented. His music has helped change at least one life. Listening to that live performance was a milestone for me. 

Inside one of the three tents where the music happened.

After that, Husband and I went to see the countryside and visit the places our ancestors left from to come to the United States. All in all it was a very personal journey. I don’t know how I’m gonna top that, but I will try.

Here is what I want to say to all the discouraged, not-world-famous creators out there: It’s up to you whether you continue in an industry that can seem so crowded and thankless. I know those feelings well. But chances are, even in your less-than-wildly-successful state, you’ve reached somebody and helped them make sense of life. Maybe you’ve made a terrible day better. 

So give yourself some credit. Take care of yourself, for sure. And keep on telling the human story in a way that only you can.