Thoughts, ahead of Solo Session 8

Sitting in bed after a nice, hot shower - tired, but happy. In fact, more than just a bit surprised. 

I don't know why I'm surprised, but I must confess, I am. In two days' time, I do Solo Session 8 - this time at the charming Suzie's Coffee Shop, in Kuils River. My last one was at the end of February. The plan was to do a monthly show, but somehow, after my 7th one, I couldn't summon the energy to launch straight into planning the next one. I'm learning to tune in to my energy levels and prioritise self-care by responding in ways that feel natural, and not forced. I decided to take a break, and not do a concert in March. Of course, at the end of March, I had twinges of regret, because by then my energy was restored, but I've learnt to find my peace with decisions I make, and not dwell on what might have been. The break was good. Flexibility is important. When you're tired, you should rest.

And now my April concert is two days away. I can hardly believe it! I have been advertising/promoting the show since early April. Like the last one, this one's tickets also include refreshments. The venue owner gave me her expected minimum number of attendees, and I set my goal at double that number. Today, ticket sales exceeded even that! After all the different ways in which I spread the word about this event, I should have trusted the process and had no doubt that I would reach my goal. But still I was surprised. And then my joy turned to worry, at the thought of possibly having to turn people away. I suppose concertgoers also need to learn not to book on the last minute, for intimate events.

There are two things I know for sure, after having arranged these 8 solo concerts: 

1. Capetonians tend to book on the last minute - usually from two days before the show.

2. I need to trust my instincts, because I do actually know what I'm doing.

On the second point, I've had people tell me that the area, Kuils River, in the Northern Suburbs of Cape Town, was too far. Which is ridiculous, because it's far only to people who don't live out that way. But to people who do, it's great - as indicated by the ticket sales.  I've also had people question my decision to hold the event during a long weekend, because "people go away". Again - some people do, but many don't. So there's a bit of stubbornness needed, when you do your own thing, because you actually are more in touch with the variables than people appreciate. I always find it interesting how people who've never put on events, let alone a concert series, see fit to advise one. Most of the time, the advice is not based on research, but on hearsay.

I've been blessed with two consecutive days in which to immerse myself in concert stuff - today was a public holiday, and tomorrow's a non-teaching day for me. I've had lots of lovely time to rehearse, as well as space to allow my head to be flooded with concert thoughts. Being both the event organiser and the artist is a lot. You have to wear two hats: the logistical, as well as the creative one. I'm learning all the time, and it's interesting to me to realise how much more I take into consideration now, compared to my first one, in September last year.

I think my main lesson has been to trust my judgement. I do still consult people I trust, and elicit their opinions and feedback, but I'm developing a strong sense of what works and what doesn't. The best  headspace for me to be in is one where both my certainty and my flexibility co-exist. I never want to stop learning. 

When I think of my main goals, with these Solo Sessions, I'm completely on track, and I'm having fun. I look forward to performing my own songs to new audiences. I feel proud that I stopped second-guessing myself, and took the plunge. I would love to  focus solely on the performance itself, and have a team that does everything else, but I'm not there yet. The advantage of making all the decisions is exactly that -  I have creative control of the project. It feels right, for me. Some things in life you just need to tackle on your own. My long history of deferring to others and suppressing my originality, so as not to rock the boat, is what brought me to this point. This was an inevitable next chapter for me.  

There are so many other things happening in my life, right now. Not one of them feels as satisfying and fulfilling as my concert series does.

I count myself lucky to be doing what I love so very much! 

Monday's another public holiday  - maybe I'll write again, and give you some concert feedback.   

           Solo Session 7, at Seven Sisters Vineyards, in Feb. 2023. Photo: Theresa Smith