I’m writing you all a note. —>
If you’re not sure who Epstein’s Mother is, look it up. There is another story behind this, starting with a mini-rant I posted recently in our Listerhood group on Facebook. (Have you joined us yet?) The idea has not only stayed with me, it has garnered some interesting private feedback, so it seems to be worth repeating here:
“If you’re not a creator of new work and feel you don’t need this [workshop for creators], what’s holding you back from creating something of your very own? Performers are not at the mercy of those who hire them. They are creative beings in their own right!”
Let’s say that again, just to let it settle:
Performers are not at the mercy of those who hire them. They are creative beings in their own right.
This doesn’t mean you have to go rogue and be distractingly “creative” at your next concert (please don’t). It does mean it’s time to challenge an old, limiting idea: that performers can’t—or shouldn’t—create their own work unless they’re officially a “composer” or “choreographer” or “writer.”
Nonsense. You have to start somewhere.
There’s a quiet divide in the classical world: composers create, and performers interpret. There are reasons for this, as training, skills and discipline all matter. But for some performers, that line is faint, if it exists at all. Performance, when it’s truly alive, is inherently creative. It involves planning, nuance, emotional depth, and a point of view. That is artistry.
And yet, too many singers—and I’ve seen this over and over—feel they’re not “allowed” to step beyond that interpretive role. They’re afraid of doing it wrong. They’re afraid of being labeled self-important or “too much.” They’re waiting to be chosen.
But waiting doesn’t build careers. And it certainly doesn’t build joy.
Creation comes in many forms
I’m not saying everyone should start composing. I’m certainly not a composer—I dabbled in high school and quickly discovered that it wasn’t my thing. But trying songwriting and a variety of disciplines opened other doors. I found my creative voice in writing, visual art, cooking, and building things that have nothing to do with singing… but everything to do with expression. And in turn, every one of those experiences fed me as a performer.
You don’t have to make your creations public for them to be real and for them to matter. You don’t need to monetize them or turn them into a brand. But you may have a desire need to make something, and I cannot encourage you enough to give yourself that permission.
What could that look like for you?
- Record a track of music you love, or even a whole album.
- Write a blog post about your experiences as a singer.
- Start a podcast to explore ideas you care about.
- Make videos, essays, art, or reels that reflect your personality.
- Create original works, alone or with collaborators.
- You can even craft content around a hobby like cooking, fashion, gaming, or design.
All of that counts. All of that is valid. Because here’s the thing:
Being a multi-hyphenate doesn’t make you “too much.” It makes you full. It celebrates your vibrant self and feeds everything that makes you interesting as a performer.
Whatever you’re full of—ideas, feelings, stories, sounds—it’s time to let some of it out. Feed your soul. Stretch your skills. Surprise yourself and your community with what you can do. Show us what you’ve got!
What you make might become a treasured outlet.
It might become a sideline.
It might become a whole new career.
But you’ll never know unless you try.
Just go MAKE SOMETHING, see what happens, and share it with us if you wish!