Don't Show Up To Your Dream Half-Assed
Lessons and Lyrics From a Great Friend & Musician - Chris Pureka
Some of you may know that I was scheduled to be on tour this fall with one of my closest friends, musician Chris Pureka. Chris knew that scheduling a tour with me was a risk as ovarian cancer has a very high recurrence rate. They were on board for the tour anyway. When I had to cancel, they were gracious and understanding and kind, which is always the case with them. Their heart is gold. Their compassion is boundless. Their honesty is gutsy and unwilling to hide a truth for other people’s comfort. Something you may not know is that Chris is much of the reason I have been able to make my living as a poet for the past two decades. In 2003 we co-billed a show in San Francisco. It was my first time on tour and they were already a pro. Over the next few years they invited me to open for them countless times, which significantly increased the number of folks who were following my writing. Once, while doing a show in one of those really dirty venues where you think you might get a staph infection from breathing the air, they taught me something that I believe changed the course of my entire career. There were only a few people in attendance and the folks who were there seemed to want to be anywhere but there. I sulked through my set. I kept thinking, “Why on earth am I here? Why am I doing this?” Afterwards, Chris took the stage and played the most beautiful set. Their songs changed the color of the room. They played like they were headlining Red Rocks, and then cornered me afterwards. “You can’t not give it everything,” they said. “No matter how shitty the environment. You have to give it your whole heart if you want to do this.” Their words shook me to life. I never again didn’t give a performance every ounce of energy I had to give. I never again stepped on a stage feeling ungrateful. My eyes opened to how lucky I was. If there were four people in the audience and a bartender screaming through my set––it didn’t matter. If the mic electrocuted me––it didn’t matter. If the latte machine was louder than my words it didn’t matter––I gave it my all. I got a reputation for gasping for breath between sentences. For years I said everything with 50 times more volume than I should have because I was not, and I mean NEVER, going to show up to my dream half-assed. And the dream itself was a stretch, ya’ll. I knew only six spoken word artists in the whole world who were making a living from the artform at the time. It was a nearly impossible undertaking. It was a miracle, and still is a miracle that this is what I do for a living. As a thank you, and an I love you––I share some of my favorite lines with you today from some of my favorite Chris Pureka songs. Please follow them on socials, buy their albums. I promise it will only make your life as beautiful as they helped make mine.
“I’m thinking of the night that all the lights went out and how I learned to see in the dark.” -From Wrecking Ball
‘Cause the sound was the boat slowly breaking. And the weight was a mountain of old pain. Like I could have walked on the sea, if you’d just noticed me, hanging around. “ -From Holy
“After that shipwreck, the coward’n me, rowed straight back to shore and with my feet on solid ground, I wrote a love song for the sea.” -From Shipwreck
“You were the wheels set in motion to throw my shutters open, you are the blue light before the day.” -From Shepherd