TEDx Talk - The Art of Embracing the Unknown

I was thrilled and honoured when I was asked to be a part of TEDx the university edition in Dubai as a speaker & performer. As you can imagine, I was also terrified. Performing in front of people, when you can just close your eyes and nothing else exists but the song, is something I'm very comfortable doing - actually it's something I love doing - it is without a doubt my happy place. But speaking in front of a large audience is the exact opposite experience. I was asked to speak about a life in the arts, and somehow wow them with inspiring, spine-tingling words that will stay with them beyond the 18 and a half minutes of the speech. Somewhere after accepting and highfiving everyone about being a TEDx speaker, I started to hyperventilate. Strangled by my own self-doubt and diffidence, I thought the only way to shake this off was to just get to work and write something from the heart. And after much deliberation, editing and putting my speeching skills to the test in front of my cat, I named my speech 'The Art of Embracing the Unknown'

The video of this TEDx talk will be released soon, but till then - Here's the transcript of my speech. I apologize for the immodest length of it. I like words.

The Art of Embracing the Unknown 

(Performance of the song 'The Unknown') 

"I'm Gayathri, and I'm a singer/songwriter. The song I just performed is called 'The Unknown' and as someone pursuing a life in the arts, I am very familiar with the concept of all things unknown. 

You see, I'm an unsigned/independent artist with not many resources at my disposal. By which I mean - I don't have a trust fund, or a sugar daddy, or awesome things to sell on ebay to make a quick buck. And sometimes I hit a wall - I think to myself, "how am I going to pursue this dream/this career - that has no set rules, structure or steps that one can take to assure success every time. It's an absolute free for all! So you can imagine, that most days I have no clue what I'm doing. Doubt and uncertainty are a part of my everyday, as much as playing with my cat or eating or sleeping. But I am doing what I'm doing. And over the years I've sort of come up with a strategy of sorts, the thing that keeps everything going. And Before I tell you what it is, I'd like to give you a bit of back story. 

As I stand before all of you, promising young minds of tomorrow, I am ashamed to say that I look back at my college days as a period of epic uselessness.  I studied English Literature. The only class I attended for three whole years was my poetry class because it spoke to me in some inexplicable way. Teachers had no clue who I was and that I even existed. But come the time of the final examination results, to my surprise and everyone else's shock, I ranked top of my class, angering many of the economics students who thought it heinously unfair that a literature student who did nothing but read books all day, scored a higher final average than them. As much as I got a kick out of this, I also knew that it was true - the only thing I did do in college was read poetry, write songs and play my guitar. Fell in love a few times, which went horribly wrong. As do most college romances - you heard it here first. But that only led to more poetry-reading, guitar-playing and songwriting. Little did I know, that this pattern would shape the rest of my life. 

Cut to 4 years later - 2009 - By this point I had quit my well-paying day job as an Editor in a publishing house to pursue music full-time. I felt ready. By this point, I had written over 50 songs, I had been to Europe twice on two self-managed and self-funded tours. I had released an EP of 5 songs that got a some lovely reception. I had built a listenership for myself, small but extremely significant. Things were going beautifully. 

And then I got my heartbroken 

I'm talking about heartbreak like Heathcliff in wuthering heights, or Devdas, or someone you can actually relate with -  Adele - Adele-level of heartbreak. I was non-functional for about a year, but music yanked me out of it - and I felt like I came back stronger. I decided it was time to kick things up a notch. I wanted to do something big. I conceptualized a show called 'Movement' - it was, in essence, a showcase of my music accompanied by the UAE philharmonic orchestra performed to a stunning visual backdrop. It was ambitious, but on a creative level, because of the amazingly talented people I knew, I truly felt it was doable. I put together a strong core team and put out an open call to other artists and musicians to join the movement and over the course of a few months, artists and musicians gravitated towards the show like moths to a flame. We grew to a team of over 100 musicians and artists coming together for the first time in the region. 

All we needed was funding. 

Now on paper, this was an easy pitch. It was the first of its kind, it was over 100s of creative minds, it was contemporary & classical, all credible people with experience in this field, and there already was a great buzz around it, it was a no-brainer. Or so we thought. My partner and head of sponsorship -  Farida Ahmed and I went to - what now seems like thousands of meetings - making passionate pitches and pleas for funding. In the presentation room, we were met with excitement, joy, extreme levels of psychitude to get involved. But the emails that followed a day later would often say, "we've already spent our budget for this year",  "we're waiting for the green light from the head of marketing" which would never come and the most annoying response of them all "instead of money, maybe we could supply resources" - and by resources they meant a fleet of cars and in one amusingly bizarre case - "we could give you lightbulbs to give away!" What this production had to do with cars or lightbulbs is a mystery I'm still trying to crack. 

So, by that point, I had spent over a year working on 'Movement' . And then one day, we had a breakthrough - we seemed to have almost signed the papers on a funding contract - everything was a go again, a venue zeroed in on, rehearsals began, props being built, costumes being designed and the poster for opening day was also ready to go. And then I get a call.  A day before the deal was supposed to be done our main sponsor decides to pull out - for reasons that will never really be good enough - but that was it.  One call and the whole thing came tumbling down. I, obviously, was heartbroken, shattered. 

By this point, not only were there 100s of people who had invested their time, work and love into this project but had believed in me, to be their leader, and to take them and this idea to the end goal. The rest of the day was filled with bouts of sobbing, guilt and trying to stay strong so I could relay this news to everyone on board. Telling my incredibly supportive family was hard enough. But to my surprise every person I told, came back saying the same thing 

"All we wanted was to do this show with you." "

"We believe in your vision." 

"We believe in you". 

"And maybe this might not be the right time for it, but the time will surely come."

And in those words, was a power and secret that guides the way I function today: And it is this: people don't support you because of what you do, they support you because of why you do what you do. It is the passion to do something that moves people, that moves them to action, to support you, to rally for you, to root for you. When I look back at 'Movement' I don't see it as a failure or something that didn't happen. It served its purpose in teaching me one giant lesson.  

And I carry this lesson forward everyday. 

After a substantial time had passed, I put out a single and a music video for a song titled 'Champion of Broken Hearts' which received great reviews which helped me regain some of my confidence. I was ready to release my first full-length album. A debut album is kind of a big deal in the music industry and it takes a lot of money, time and resources. But once again I'm an independent/unsigned artist with not many resources at my disposal. 

So during the time I was working out how to make this happen, I was actually at a TEDx event when I saw the founder of indiegogo speak about the phenomenon of crowd funding. I had a friend who had suggested I go dowb the crowd funding route, but it didn't make sense to me till that day. It was very simple. You ask those you know and those they know to take a few minutes to hear your pitch for a project or an idea and if they thought it worthy, they could contribute a sum of money towards the cause in return for interesting perks and incentives. 

So after doing some intense research on crowd funding campaigns, speaking to those who had success with it, I decided I was going to do it. It was scary as hell. No one in my field or region had done it. But I felt like I could, that I had to in some way. 

The goal - I wanted to raise $20,000 in 30 days to make my first album. With the help of my close friends, I made the pitch video. I got all my friends and family to become campaign ambassadors spreading the word and opening up their networks to me, which they so graciously did. And then the campaign went live. 

By the end of the first day, we had already made $6000 dollars and within the next 10 days, 

we had made over $21,000 - beating our goal with plenty of time to spare. And though it was amazing to have some money for once and be able to make the album, what really stuck with me were the comments that my backers left for me: 

"we believe in you" 

"we believe in your dream," 

"we are proud to be a part of your journey"

Here's the thing, the strategy, the thing that keeps everything going, the thing I've learnt - And I'll put it in a language I know best. There are two kinds of songs - ones that are good and ones that become someone's favorite. One's that were by this "really cool artist" and One's that tell your story better than you ever could. We're all looking to relate, to belong, to connect. And we attach ourselves, to people, places, to songs and causes that make us feel this connection. Passion and hardwork are more powerful than just talent and skill because they are the things that help make that connection. 

At the moment, although things are going beautifully with the album and taking shape, I'm still finding my way. I am still an unsigned, independent artist, with limited resources with a big dream and no fool-proof plan on how to make it happen. But now I do have a strategy - 

It is to enjoy the small victories, the glorious breakthroughs, the almost successes and even the epic failures. And it might be scary as hell, but the only strategy against not knowing what you're doing or walking a path completely unknown to you is to embrace it.  And in the little failures, the heartbreaks and the things that weren't are the times when you are growing in abundance without even knowing it. It is your dedication and drive that will get you to where you want to get, that will draw people to you, inspire you, inspire them, swallow you whole at times and push you towards action every single time, without fail.

So take the leap and embrace the unknown. 

Thank you."