Artists are a fascinating bunch. We dream vividly. We desire deeply. We pull the most intimate parts of ourselves out into the open for all to see. We choose the process of birth, death and rebirth daily as we create, edit, and release our art into the big, wide world. Wilder yet, as we choose this way of life, I believe it chooses us too. We find ourselves within our art and through this discovery, we find and build who we believe ourselves to be.  

Welcome Why We Create, an ongoing collaboration and partnership with Arts Commons that endeavours to explore the creative processes of Alberta artists. My name is Kenna Burima, musician, songwriter, producer, educator, and writer. I am also a lover and cheerleader of artists. 

Creating as a Point of View  

Artists seem to be equally aware of ourselves and clueless as we’re creating. We can shift between first to second to third points of view as easily as we move from dreams to hallucinations to waking life. Those of us that keep creating have learned best not to question the process when we’re in it, riding the flow until it ceases. And through this process, we may discover there are infinite stories to tell. It’s deciding which ones to tell that the process begins.  

“Being a good artist is also about being a good storyteller,” says Soji, a Zimbabwe-born Edmonton based artist who graces the Jack Singer Concert Hall stage on February 8th for the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra’s A Tribute to Bob Marley. “I'm 100% aware I'm expressing myself as a person, however sometimes I might not be writing from my own personal experience.  I have songs where I'm writing from another person's perspective.”  

As a self-taught lyricist, producer, and singer, Soji knows the power of a good story. He, along with many artists I spoke with, share how connecting with a feeling first is many times the first step in the story unfolding. Feeling gives story the electrical charge.  

For Soji, it’s about experiencing how the sound feels and going from there to create “the first rough draft.”  

“I love to create,” says Soji. “Being an artist is freeing, and it's become who I am. I never did it to gain anything or get anything from anyone. I just wanted to create. I've never stopped, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon.” 

For Maddie Bautista it begins with sound too. As the sound designer for Alberta Theatre Projects’ King James production playing at the Martha Cohen Theatre this February, Maddie lives and dreams in sound.  

“Sound is everywhere for me,” admits Maddie. “It’s what I think about, what I collect, and what I love. It’s this incredible medium that can take an idea, a theme, or even a fear and make it audible, tangible, larger than life.” 

The Process of Flow 

For Calgary rapper Tea Fannie, it's much the same. Through a process of elimination and illumination, Tea clocked that being an artist just kept her attention longer than anything else. It is who she is and what she does, and her 2024 release It’s All Love opens with the echo of that simple truth; “do what I feel, but I don’t know what I’m doing.” I mean, do any of us? We as audiences love when we find ourselves within the art and it is with this introduction, Tea evokes a depth every human can dial into. We feel, then without knowing sometimes, we just do. And for artists, engaging in our creative process becomes the simple two-step process; feel-do. 

“To just sit and let everything fly,” intones Tea, “...that’s my favourite. I just write and write and write and write. Page and pages, then I sculpt it into whatever I want; be it a verse, a dope bar, maybe develop it into a metaphor, and even sometimes…it turns into a full album.”   

That’s how the brilliant It’s All Love came to be and how Tea intends to keep doing it, until of course, she switches it up or gets bored and then just…does it differently. We artists gotta hold things gently.  

Creation as Representation 

Calgary’s Maezy Reign (they/she) will have just stepped off stage at this year’s High Performance Rodeo with the BeautifulYoungArtists Cabaret. As a writer, designer and sometimes actor, Maezy can’t help but bring all that they are into their creative process. Even when there seems to be little choice in the matter. 

“Doing art is not a choice that I made,” admits Maezy with a grin and a shrug. “It's like, something I have to do. It comes through me, and I can't do anything to stop it. I use it to continue to move through the world.” 

Maezy is a powerful force, whose creative work sheds light on their personal intersections with the mental health system. “Especially in Alberta, schizophrenia is so highly stigmatized. Sure, it’s seen as this big bad wolf, but everybody knows somebody who's schizophrenic, and part of my thing as an artist is that I'm gonna talk about it, because the more I do, the more it'll help destigmatize it.” 

This is where the act of creation aligns with the act of representation. We feel, we do and when we do so honestly and authentically, we allow audiences to see and hence be themselves. It’s a power and responsibility and a daily practice.  

Much like Tea Fannie, Maezy speaks of her creativity in terms of stolen moments within the flow of everyday life.  

The Artist is the Medium 

“A lot of the time I write on transit,” shares Maezy. “When I'm going places, I'll just start writing in my Notes app in a stream of consciousness. Dialogue just kind of comes through me and then afterwards, I’ll get home and format and edit on my computer. I'll arrange things; move scenes around if it doesn’t fit into the particular house I’m working on. I just somehow trust it’ll be useful someplace else.”  

Maddie echoes this trusting of the process. “Earlier, I referred to sound as a medium,” shares Maddie, “And I think that’s how I see myself too—a kind of medium. When I’m designing, it feels less like self-expression and more like I’m channeling ideas from somewhere beyond me. That said, when I write my own music outside of plays, it’s a completely different experience. In those moments, it's personal. It's my voice.” 

In navigating these streams of the universal and the personal, artists have the unique opportunity to choose who and what we are and what we’re going to say. Even through the heartache, hardships and stigmatization, these artists hold their identities with love and care and not without a bit of humour. When asked if there was anything else they’d rather be doing, Maezy laughs, “anything else, I’d be miserable and bored.” 

Indeed. If anything, artists deserve happiness too don’t we? 

Want to hear more from Kenna? Visit www.kennaburima.com or head over to our friends at The Scene and check out her sister column, How We Create.