Blue Bucket Of Gold is a free weekly newsletter from me, the musician Catrin Vincent. If you pay, I also offer long-form content, like interviews with your favourite artists, new music and songwriting prompts. This newsletter is a passion project; a deep-dive into the human psyche from someone whose life was transformed by discovering how art can heal. It started as a way to digest my favourite music, then turned into a vehicle for change, a beautiful way to understand myself and the world through writing. Please feel free to share and support in any way you can. Thank you for reading.
Hello dear reader.
Workshop 1: Giving Yourself Permission - tickets.
I’ve been writing songs for over twenty years now. This Wednesday, I’m offering an online songwriting workshop (6-8pm on Zoom).
This first workshop kickstarts a journey of simply finding the ‘why’, the reason to write songs and be creative in a world that often doesn’t financially support it, reward it or even encourage it. And that ‘why’, for me, is to connect us back to the essence of being human. Strip away all the debris; jobs, finances, doubt, trauma, and discover who we really are underneath that.
Over time, I’ve learned that songwriting, for me, isn’t about commerce or achievement. It’s a way of healing, a way of listening deeply, of connecting to something beyond myself.
In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron speaks about art as an act of paying attention. Rick Rubin, in The Creative Act, says something similar. Both remind me that creating isn’t about force or striving, it’s about noticing.
I think of any creative act as a kind of meditation. To create, we let go of our small self for a while. We become a conduit for something larger. Many artists have said this before, that we’re simply channels for the universe, reflecting it back to itself. Art becomes a record of that reflection. A kind of seeing.
When we approach creativity this way, as meditation, as presence, as noticing, the noise starts to fall away.
So here’s my songwriting reflection for today:
the best melodies and words often come when we stop trying to write something “great”, when we stop chasing the perfect hook or the song of the summer.
I’ve been sitting with a simple riff lately, playing it over and over, letting whatever words come spill out, even the silly ones. (At one point I found myself singing about flying ant day, not exactly profound, but it made me laugh.)
When I let the thoughts in my head flow freely, without judgment, I find myself in that place of ease, the flow state. And from there, melodies appear that I wouldn’t have planned.
This time, I’ve been inspired by Mark Hollis of Talk Talk. He would shape melodies first, then carefully choose words that fit the syllables and contours of the tune. I’m exploring that too; letting melody lead, and seeing what language naturally follows.
And sometimes what comes is beautifully simple. A magpie landing on the roof. Twin eyes. That’s all. I’m always amazed at what can open up when we start by simply noticing.
That’s the heart of it for me: we notice, we channel what we see, we assign meaning, and through that, we learn something about the world and about ourselves. Which, in the end, are one and the same.
That’s what feels healing.
I’m more of a facilitator for these workshops, because I think being surrounded and supported by like-minded people with the same goal is the best way to keep yourself on track.
So join me!
You’ve really gone and done it now! How do I get ‘Flying Ant Day’ sung to the tune of ‘Beach Day’ out of my head, please? If I was a songwriter I’d join you, but unfortunately I’m not. Hope it goes well, anyway.