Do creative spaces matter? Do you work better when you have a ritual and a place to go? A closet, a kitchen, an office, a coffeeshop? Many creatives designate spaces for work and they find that it helps them focus. When they find themselves in that space, they know what to do. It's time to get to work. Or is all of this an eccentric excuse? You can create something anywhere, right? If you're not a welder or craftsperson who needs machinery or heavy equipment to do what you do, you can do what you do where you are right now. At least, it's possible. 

On this episode, we have the very funny and very talented Michael Burke. He's a writer, performer, and comedian who had other IRL plans before COVID-19 kept him--and the rest of us--at home.  Instead of taking a break, he started writing and producing clips on TikTok and Instagram. We talk about what his process looks like, how to experiment, and what it feels like to have people engage with your material in real-time. 

Our favorite quote from Michael: "If you're an artist, don't worry about the palette. Just use what you've got in front of you." Love this so so much.

We have our first guest! Brian Carter is an artist, comedian, and gentlemen chicken farmer who owns a digital media agency in South Carolina. Brian is a constant creative. We talk about ideas, risks, and why it takes a little bit of narcissism to make something new. More importantly, we talk about what it takes to practice being creative and what we find when we do.  The best art comes from being yourself and exploring your ideas.

Is inspiration a thing? Are muses real? Do they speak and create through us? Have you ever made something and then looked at it and thought it had to have come from a space bigger than you? And if the muses/god/mystery is a real thing, how can we tap into it? What do you do to keep the fire burning? 

Wondering if creating something is worth it even if it might be crap? Even if you'll never master it? Even if you won't get paid? Is it worth it to learn how to play chopsticks and Yellow Submarine on the piano and then stop there? Is it worth it to spend five minutes tonight writing as much as you can about the beef stroganoff you had for dinner? 

Wonder no more! We have the answer. This is it: it's always worth it.