Dan Steven Erickson

News

Songwriting

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I’ve added a new page to the website. Songs is a page where I’ll share some of my singer-songwriter work.

Over the months and years I’ve mentioned that I’ve written over 1000 songs. I’m not exaggerating. I started writing songs as a teenager. In my twenties I wrote a a couple hundred songs. I started studying the craft and getting really serious about songwriting in my 30s. Most years I write anywhere from a dozen to 50 songs. So, I’m not bragging. I’ve really written a lot of songs. I love the art of songwriting.

My new songs page will showcase a few songs at a time. Recently, I recorded the Erickson & Graham catalog, 33 songs written between 1991 and 2004. Steve Graham was a good friend and co-writer who passed away a few years ago. I also recorded 15 songs that I wrote this year, 2022. All of these recordings are simple guitar/vocal demos.

These first recordings were done at a friend’s studio. But I’m in the process of creating my own recording setup. Maybe someday I’ll digitize some of my old analog reel-to-reel and cassette recordings, too. That’s fun stuff  – dse

Unfinished

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As a poet and songwriter, I have a lot of work that is still unfinished. That’s the way writing works for me. I come up with an idea for a poem or a song and write it down quickly. Sometimes, I’ll write a song lyric in ten minutes before bed or in the early morning. Later, I’ll try to work it into music. Often, I’ll decide the lyric isn’t strong enough and let the whole idea sit for awhile. Sometimes they become completed songs and other times they simply go into an “unfinished ideas” file.

Today, I’d like to share some words to a lyric I’ve been playing with awhile. The lyric is currently in my unfinished files. The potential song is titled “When Superman Dies.”

Baby, nobody’s gonna live forever
How you ever gonna make it on your own?
If you can’t go five minutes without calling out his name
If you’re always too afraid to be alone
Who’ll be there to rescue you?
When his life here on Earth is through

Whatcha gonna do when Superman dies?
Cause even superheroes fall from the skies
He’s getting closer to leaving this world behind
So whatcha gonna do when Superman dies?

He sacrificed his life when you were young
But now he’s growing weary and gray
He can’t go on living in a co-dependent world
When he feels his superpowers stripped away
Who’ll be there to understand?
You can’t hold onto a dead man’s hand

Whatcha gonna do when Superman dies?
Because every superhero comes to their demise
He’s getting closer to leaving this world behind
So whatcha gonna do when Superman dies?

Now his cape is torn and tattered
And his eyesight’s growing dim
His blood is getting thicker every hour
If you only knew the secret
Of your Superman within
Baby, your weakness is your superpower

Whatcha gonna do when Superman dies?
Cause even superheroes fall from the skies
He’s getting closer to leaving this world behind
So whatcha gonna do when Superman dies?
Don’t look now but he’s fading tonight
What ya gonna do when Superman dies?

Copyright 2022 by Dan Steven Erickson

Becoming

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Nashville Tennessee – Photo by Dan Steven Erickson

We are all becoming something different, something new every day. I’ve been writing and posting to the site a little more often lately. That’s the way it works for me. I go through phases. Sometimes, I’ll write 20 songs or half a novel in a month. Other times, I’ll write nothing. Through it all I am continually becoming something that I wasn’t yesterday.

Life has been complicated and interesting lately. On one hand, I’m going through some of the darkest and most difficult times I could imagine. On the other, I’m becoming something new, something better. But it’s not just me that’s changing, it’s my art, my creativity, my vision, this website.

I’ve had a vision about my future creative life for some time. That vision has remained solid. There are no guarantees in life but my goal is to become the vision. So what is that vision exactly? It revolves around taking a huge risk. I’m almost 60 years old. I’ve been working as a full-time college instructor for over 20 years. However, my true love and passion lies within my art. Writing and creating music are true expressions of who I am, of who I’m becoming.

Recently, I posted that I’m making some changes to the site. I’ll be adding some examples of my singer-songwriter work. I’ve updated some of my pages. The site is slowly becoming what it’s meant to be. But the journey is only beginning. There’s something else wrapped up in this whole process, a major life change.

I’ve been considering buying a retirement property for several years. Financially, I’m more poised to take that step than I’ve ever been, yet I struggle with where I want to be. The choice needs to be made carefully because it’s my hope that it will be my last major move in this lifetime. The places I’m considering include Maine, New Hampshire, Missouri, and Kansas. I’m torn between ocean and prairie. I also need to consider expense.

As I get closer to making that decision, I also get closer to developing my creative vision for this site. While some artists don’t believe location makes much difference in what we create, I do. In fact, part of my vision for my creative journey is to make my future location a core part of my work, to immerse myself in my surroundings. To let the natural beauty around me become a major part of my work.

Every day I’m getting closer to taking a huge step that will change my life and my art forever. Every day I’m in the process of becoming. – dse

Library

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in the library reading Bukowski
while the homeless bums hang
outside on the corner.
the addicts are down the street
in a recovery, believing
so much in themselves
that they don’t need that shit.

Bukowski is rambling on about
whores, horses, Mozart,
but mostly about himself,
deprecating. he’s a fake.
he’s a fraud, a hack,
a no-good-piece-of-crap writer.

in the library
imitating a fraud,
pretending to understand the ugly
underbelly of this dirty city
AS IF I WOULD
ever gamble or chase whores.
some days I think I’m getting pretty good.
most days I hope to die before I’m discovered.

the bums and the addicts
have gone so far to feel as worthless
as Bukowski and me. they don’t even
try anymore, just clinging to life
for the moment, for the next high.
it’s what I see, feel, nothing really.

chalk me up as another hack trying
to etch out a residual drip
for retirement. I’m a fake. I’m a fraud,
a no-good-piece-of-crap writer.
it’s the bums and the addicts who are real.

if they could only write it down.
if only their emotions weren’t stuffed
so far down their throats and up their asses
we’d have so many better poets
and storytellers in this world.

in the library reading Bukowski,
a bum who used the toilet just
shouted, “that’s awesome, buddy.”
if he only knew.

The Hard Truth

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A few weeks ago I wrote a post called Unbelievable that strayed a bit from my emphasis on creativity and creative work. I said that I’d share more about the situation when the dust settled. The dust hasn’t settled and I don’t know when it will. Could be weeks, months, or years. Sometimes, we have to face the hard truth. I’m facing a crisis. A family member is struggling with mental health and addiction issues.

So what does this have to do with creativity, writing, music, etc? Everything. I once dealt with similar issues. Although I never faced addiction, I was a substance abuser and struggled with paranoid-schizophrenic thoughts for several years. How did I overcome? I was in my mid 20s when I became very anxious and paranoid. Creativity is what helped to pull me out of that dark place. Writing and playing music, along with reading and prayer, helped me to escape the demons of substance abuse.

Now, I’m watching a family member struggle with the same issues. But my loved one has little interest in writing or playing music, in expressing emotions through creativity. That’s a scary place because I know how much of a godsend creativity was for me in those dire times.

The hard truth doesn’t stop here.

We’re facing a mental health crisis in Washington State and across America. Getting help for a loved one in this situation is increasingly difficult. State laws have created obstacles to involuntary treatment for minors and even some voluntary services. Having good private insurance puts me at the end of the list for the predominantly state-assisted mental health programs in my community. I’m told there is a 3-6 month wait for a psychiatrist here with my private insurance. What’s the point in having private insurance? Private psychiatrists are limited and often unavailable, or do not work with certain populations.

I’ve spent hours in emergency rooms. I’ve stayed awake many nights while my family member has been overcome with drug-induced psychosis. I’ve spent thousands of dollars temporarily removing my loved one from the immediate situation. I’ve made dozens of calls to medical institutions, mental health centers, and crisis lines all to little avail.

The hard truth is that we’re letting our kids and young adults slip through the cracks of despair. Our privacy and health laws have made it near impossible to get mandated help for an individual in crisis. Our drug laws and judicial system have made it much easier for drug dealers to stay active. Our law enforcement officers often have other priorities.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the help I’ve been able to receive in this matter. But it always feels like it falls short, as if there is a lack of the true spirit of caring for our fellow humans in need. The hard truth is that the system feels like a machine, and a broken one at that. Those involved in the situation feel less human and more like cogs in a wheel that’s not allowed to turn smoothly. Something is not working We should be doing better than this.

Back to creativity.

It’s been my own experience that creative thought and artistic endeavors have been key to my journey with mental health issues and emotional turmoil. Writing poetry and music to share thoughts and feelings often leads to healing and solutions. And so it’s with this spirt that I raise my voice for others.

There’s still another element to this story that I cannot yet share because there is a criminal case involved. And no it’s not my loved one who is the suspect but rather the victim. – dse

Change

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Webb City Missouri – Photo by Dan Steven Erickson

Summer is quickly giving way to my favorite time of year. I love the autumn because it brings change. The trees grow bare and everything seems a little more simple, if only for a season.

I gave up four blogs and started this site a little over a year ago. Why? Because I wanted change. The goal was to streamline all my creative interests into one place. So this website became the home of Dan Steven Erickson. It includes my creative thoughts, writing, music, songwriting, poetry, books, photography, and minimalist design. Too much?

Change is a funny thing. We simultaneously fear and long for change. Dumping four blogs with several years worth of work was scary. (I did copy and save the content.) But I needed a clean slate to present my creative work in a new way. I’d grown tired of trying to sell myself as a blogger, writer, and a minimalist. This site is just me as an artist, a creator, me.

The wheels are still turning and more change is coming. Soon, I’ll begin to add some recordings of my songwriting to the mix. I’ve actually been writing songs longer than anything else on my list of creative endeavors. I get stuck at the recording and presentation of that work. That is going to change. I’ve accepted the fact that I don’t have the money, time, or equipment to make great state-of-the-art recordings. Believe me, I wish I did. However, I do have access to some basic recording equipment and have been working on some simple guitar/vocal tracks.

Change is good. Sometimes it’s hard and we have to push through, but it’s good. Check back for a new “Songs” page soon. – dse

Unbranded

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why do we yearn for pain, to be branded,
to stamp ourselves as some kind of product,
a reflection of our culture and its conduct?
I don’t understand it, yet we demand it
at the price of selling our own souls
to the highest bidder, just fodder
for the masses.

why do we allow the world to shape us,
choosing self-mutilation over recovery,
letting lies outweigh self-discovery?
we let hate take us and break us
into pieces that only the lucky retrieve
and weave into something colorful,
a beautiful tapestry.

why do we willingly allow the hot iron
to burn its mark into our skin,
accepting the brand of another’s kin?
we disengage from our own rage,
breaking connection from our deep
collection of experience, never fully
realized or released.

why do we join the enemy’s feast,
knowing they serve something poisonous?
yet we swallow, we wallow in the hazardous
waste that’s twisting our face
into something unrecognizable,
convincing ourselves that a brand
is a needed reprieve.

there’s more to life than being branded,
understand that delaying punishment
is the establishment, our environment,
there’s no point in joining that parade,
it’s just a charade, the real you
is more beautiful, unusually
fruitful and distinct.

scrub it off if you can, the intentional
brand you chose to wear, as if you’re
nothing more than decorative flair,
yet, let the hard marks of life remain
on your heart, seared and scarred
and cut deep into the love that you
make as you create your art.

Pondering

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I like to ponder things. I like to tinker, too, but that’s another story. This morning I’m pondering my recent experience at Rodney Crowell’s songwriting camp. I attended the camp along with 125 other songwriters. First off, it was a great experience and I was thoroughly entertained. But I want to do a little pondering beyond that.

I hope this post is okay. There was an unsigned “what happens at songwriting camp stays at songwriting camp” kind of thing we discussed on the first day. Sorry, if I’m stepping out of line, Billy.

I’d like to reiterate that my overall experience at the camp was wonderful. What did I learn? I picked up a few helpful bits of information on songwriting. However, as a college professor myself, I thought the curriculum could have been slightly improved. The camp is great for beginning and intermediate writers, but might be stronger for advanced writers with more rigorous material for the level.

I consider myself an advanced songwriter, one who continually pushes myself to master the art. I walked away with some inspiration to continue on that path, but I’m left pondering. Why?

It seems to me that success in the creative world is for the young, the few, the driven, the lucky. I’m almost 60 years old. I missed the boat a long time ago. So why do I keep writing songs? The chance of my work gaining commercial success recedes the more I focus on refining the art. It’s true. The best songwriting is not always what the masses want to hear.

But in my pondering I’ve come to a conclusion. I continue to write songs for the same reasons I compose ambient music and write books and poetry. Because all of this creative work that I do is a form of pondering. And as I said at the start of this piece, I like to ponder. The definition of ponder is to think about something carefully before making a decision or reaching a conclusion. That’s exactly what good songwriters do.

So with that definition in mind, Rodney Crowell’s songwriting camp was a smashing success. I’ll be pondering Joe Henry’s songwriting process for years to come. I’ll continue to work toward more innovative chord progressions and melodic structures as Joe Henry, Beth Nielsen-Chapman, and Lera Lynn all demonstrated so beautifully, and generously. Instead of running from, I’ll keep leaning into the hurt and pain of this life as Mike Reid preached so wisely. And I’ll stick to hard rhymes, Rodney, except when I don’t.

Maybe, I’ll be back next year. – dse