Today we’d like to introduce you to Wendy Colonna.
Hi Wendy, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for sharing your story with us – to start, maybe you can share some of your backstories with our readers.
I grew up in Southwest Louisiana, where my mom was a teacher, and my dad split his time between carpentry work and fighting for environmental justice. They bought me a Fisher Price record player when I was a kid, and I had a nice collection of Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers, and Disney Soundtracks. But they were generous and allowed me to borrow from theirs, where my love of great music and songwriting began. I would spend countless hours listening to Melanie’s “Leftover Wine,” Simon & Garfunkel’s “Sunday 3 AM,” and Peter Paul & Mary’s “Blowin’ in the Wind.” On Saturday nights, on the way home from my grandparents’ farmhouse in Cajun country, I’d watch the glow of the street lights move to the rhythm of Solid Gold Saturday Night. On Sunday mornings, I sang in the Episcopal Church Kid’s Choir, and on the same afternoons, dad would put on Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue” really loud and dance around the house in his skivvies. Music was my steadfast companion and refuge in times of loneliness and despair. Early on, I learned that music was the invisible thread that weaves our humanity together. All the colors of the human experience, some soft-hued and silky smooth, others faded, rough and thick, binding over and under to reveal our tapestry of stories, emotions, and memories, and the secret teachings of how we can relate, heal and grow. I witnessed it at football games when the drum line got everyone into a hypnotic trance, at church where the hymns lifted the burdens of the soul out into the ether, and in my own heart, watching the highway lights move along the car ceiling as the classic melodies of the 60s and 70s on those late night car rides transfixed me. I just wanted to be a part of that magic.
We all face challenges, but looking back, would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
In the late 90s, my music partner, Hannah, and I were signed at 18 to a small label out of Louisiana when the recording industry was at its peak. Lolopolooza and Lilith Fair were hot festivals that took risks on alternative and women’s music, and they were a raging success. Counter-culture was in, and the profits were off the charts.
My recording debut, “Girls of Stone,” happened shortly before Napster/ file sharing became a popular and accessible way of getting music for free. We believed that widespread retail distribution, touring, and unit sales would recoup the investment of the record label. We’d be on the same trajectory as the artists of the era, but with this crack in the distribution model, profits began to leak, and file sharing changed the entire music economy as we know it. After this economic shift began, every release of mine was affected by another economic downturn. I became an independent artist with my label after “Girls of Stone” was released, and I released all my forthcoming records on my label Pourquoi Pas Records. When “Red” came out in 2002, file sharing peaked, but retail still worked, and people bought CDs at shows. When “Right Where I Belong” came out in 2004, we had a great team, nationwide distribution with a reputable distributor, a budget for PR, radio, and a tour on the books. Still, the week it was released, Tower Records and other major retailers announced they were closing down, and I was asked to fly out to LA (secretly) to audition for a reality TV show. Because of the non-disclosure agreements affiliated with the network, I ended up canceling tour dates to take a chance at a big TV opportunity. When I realized that I was being asked to audition for a TV show rock band that was not a good fit for my talents or my soul, I left LA with a heavy heart, knowing that I had given up great tour dates for a flashy grab that was not a fit for me. “Right Where I Belong” was received well by the media, despite our lost tour-dates. I continued onward, aware that this new music economy would require cleverness and agility moving forward. Still, I was trying to play both by the rules of the biz while navigating the wilderness of what music being “free” would do to our ability to invest in each new project. During these years, I decided that growing the fanbase via touring would be the best way to grow as an artist, so I hit the road pretty aggressively for the next five years, growing a US and international fan base.
We recorded “We Are One” in 2010. At this time, iTunes and CD Baby were beginning to dominate the market, giving artists about 60 cents on the dollar for downloads. An industry colleague promised to get the new album in front of “all the right people” and discouraged me from setting aside a budget for marketing and PR, so I invested all my cash into the record. Unfortunately, they didn’t secure any deals, and we had to shoestring the release of this fabulous funky recording. Lessons learned again! While touring this album, I became ill with a lung infection, and my immune system crashed. I was sick and pushed my body to tour full-time for eight months.
Finally, after several bouts of walking pneumonia and other frightening bottoms, I gave up on the music, the dream, and the road for a while. This health scare made me realize how fragile my own body is. While recovering, I realized that I had placed this dream of “making it” in the music biz before my own health and well-being. Something had to shift. It took a few years of intentional healing and a magical tour in Belgium (2011), where we recorded a sweet EP on the fly to get my mojo back. “Nectar” was a rebirth record for me. By 2014, streaming was the norm, paying out $.00061 for every stream, which, for most artists, amounted to the cost of registering the songs with a digital distributor. Regardless of the sale price of music at the time, I was grounded, present, and aware of my mortality. Sharing felt so right and healing and my whole life blossomed. We had a great team working on the album, and I had no delusions of grandeur. It felt like the next right thing to do, and I trusted the process. Excellent relationships and opportunities began to unfold, and Coca-Cola hired me to write a song for an ad for them, which made great headlines. I met beautiful friends along the road and began to tour again full-time.
After two years of living “home free” on the road, I decided to reenter Austin and begin a new project. I bought a vintage camper and moved it to my friend and producer’s property, and we (my friend Ryan, myself, and our community) built a small music venue on its porch while recording “No Moment But Now.” By the time this album came out, Bluetooth technology had become the dominant means of listening to music and vehicles were being manufactured without CD players. We released a limited batch of vinyl for this one and were thankful to the fans who ordered signed copies.
Ryan and I had become close friends while working on the deck and roof for the camper, and some months later, we became a couple. We had been friends for over 12 years, but our teamwork on the project showed us that we made great partners and got along wonderfully. We decided to get married. I moved in with him and his bonus kids, and soon after, we were expecting our son. I released “No Moment But Now” two weeks before my son was born. While I wouldn’t call this a struggle, it challenged my way of making a living on the road with shows. With family as my main priority, I began to explore other avenues of making a living, with music at the center of my life.
In the years since my son was born, I’ve become a certified career coach, working with entrepreneurs and creatives to bring their dreams to market. I’ve also found a new business, Lyriculture, which facilitates fun, meaningful, musical team-bonding experiences for groups, helping them to grow closer and revitalize their values and mission by creating a song together. Each struggle along the way has transformed me. It hasn’t been pretty, but it’s been real, and each of these stumbling blocks has given me creativity, resourcefulness, and compassion which help me now to serve others as well.
Let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I believe in the healing power of music, and I’m passionate about how it brings us together. I’m committed to building bridges of meaning and connection between artists and audiences. I do this as a recording and performing artist, coach, educator, and consultant through musical team-building experiences.
As an artist, I’m known most for the soulful messages of my tunes. Songs like ‘Bring Me Water,” “Shine,” “Right Where I Belong,” “Girls Like Me,” and “Nothin Gonna Take my Love” speak to the place inside all of us where our messy human qualities intersect with our deeper, more spiritual yearnings. These songs center around building a bridge between the mess and the mystery.
As a coach and consultant, I specialize in helping creative people unblock limiting beliefs and habits, exploring and navigating routes to more fulfilling lives and careers. Together, we dive deep into their calling and explore new ways to create a life of alignment, abundance, and possibility. With Lyriculture, we go beyond “team building” and use the science and magic of music to help re-invigorate purpose-driven teams by creating a catchy theme song that embodies their values and mission. It’s a blast!
I’m so much more than an artist. I’m an activist, a coach, and a revolutionary, and I don’t mind if that is confusing to people who like neat, tidy job descriptions and the “safe” confines of stereotypes. My heroes have lived many lives, broken with tradition, and pioneered new paths in creativity and well-being. One thing that sets me apart from others is that I could do better with boxes and labels, sometimes making folks uncomfortable. I’m a creative problem solver, a lifetime student, and a punk rock mama. I know life is short, and music heals when nothing else can. I believe in a future where artists can reach the people who need their music medicine without the bullshit of limiting beliefs and industry ‘norms’ that keep the music from flowing where it needs to go.
Are any books, apps, podcasts, or blogs that help you do your best?
A Few Favorite Books:
- Fiction: The Temple of My Familiar by Alice Walker, East of Eden by John Steinbeck, The House of the Spirits by Isabelle Allende
- Soul Books: Everything Rumi & Hafiz, The Four Agreements and The Mastery of Love by Don Miguel Ruiz, The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran, All Brene Brown’s work, and Light on Yoga by BKS Iyengar.
- Personal and Professional Development: Deep Work by Cal Newport, Creativity Inc by Ed Catmul, Tribes by Seth Godin & The One Thing by Keller Williams
Podcasts:
Love me, Ira Glass! Also! I love Kathryn Morrison’s unapologetically fabulous podcast, “Ascension through Entrepreneurship,” Malcolm Gladwell’s books, and his podcast “Revisionist History” Hidden Brain, hosted by Shankar Vedantam, and I’ve been a fan of This American Life for 20+ Years. I use Betty Soo’s Work + Play Everyday Life Planner because it combines soul, creativity, and organizational tools. Great for people who love to schedule, create, and prioritize with a pen to paper. Also, the 2023 version is a perfect travel size!
Contact Info:
- Website: Music: http://wendycolonna.com Coaching + Consulting: http://crescendocreativesolutions.com Lyriculture: http://lyriculture.com
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/wendycolonna
- Facebook: http://facebook.com/wendycolonna
- Linkedin: http://www.linkedin.com/wendycolonna
- Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/wendycolonna
Image Credits
Adam Kealing, Allison David, and Winker Withaneye
