Tricia Rose Burt

writer, storyteller, speaker

How to Draw a Nekkid Man

The Power of Storytelling

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I love being an artist, even though the creative life can be challenging. The best ideas can take years to materialize (e.g., my book) and financial insecurity can almost wear me out (the sculptor Carol Bove said “Becoming an artist is not a good business plan.”). But the blessings far outweigh the stumbling blocks — especially when it comes to storytelling.

A Year of Amazing Stories

Wise words for the new year
Wise words for the new year

I heard at least a hundred stories this year, either while sharing a stage or conducting workshops with The Moth or for my own clients. The stories and storytellers ran the gamut:

  • a WWII bomber pilot who was forced to crash land on D-Day, losing seven of his men, and finding God in the process
  • a graphic designer who wet her pants in the parking lot just minutes before her first job interview in 30 years
  • a former Leavenworth prison guard who now dedicates his life to keeping youth out of jail
  • a woman, estranged from her older sister, who recounted the last special moment they had together
  • a former Texas little league coach who helped his weakest team member finally get his first hit; years later, he received a note from the player, now entering NYC’s Julliard, thanking him for his encouragement

Again and again, as I helped people craft their stories, I saw what I already know — when we share our stories, we help heal ourselves and our world.

Join Me In the Cause

Hosting an evening of stories = So.Much.Fun.
Hosting an evening of stories So.Much.Fun.

In 2010, I launched I Will Be Good Productions, a fiscally sponsored art project with Fractured Atlas, to raise funds for my one-woman show How to Draw a Nekkid Man. Since then, I’ve expanded my creative platforms to include the stage, the page (still in progress), digital recordings, and workshops. This year, more storytelling opportunities await, including one in the broadcast world —  a podcast is on the horizon!

If you’re looking for a last-minute tax-deductible donation this calendar year, please consider contributing to I Will Be Good Productions. It’s been four years since I’ve launched a targeted fundraising campaign and there are new projects in the pipeline, development costs to recoup, and always more stories to tell.

There are two ways to donate: 1) Online or 2) By check, which must be made payable to Fractured Atlas with I Will Be Good Productions in the memo line. Please mail to Tricia Rose Burt, 1805 Graybar Lane, Nashville, TN 37215 (I’m in Nashville while my husband Eric rides his bike from New Hampshire to South America — as you do.).

Your donation is incredibly helpful and profoundly appreciated. Thank you for your ongoing support!

Wishing you a New Year filled with fabulous stories!

Tricia Rose Burt is a treasure, as a brilliant storyteller and a wise observer of life’s surprising and sometimes unexpected paths to our deepest satisfactions. She speaks from an intimate place where creativity and courage intersect. She’s also hilarious. What a combination. — Charles Kravetz, General Manager, WBUR Boston, the nation’s 5th largest NPR station

I Will Be Good Productions is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions for the charitable purposes of I Will Be Good Productions must be made payable to “Fractured Atlas” only and our tax deductible to the extent permitted by law.

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Learning How to Be Married in 18 Easy (And Sometimes Hard) Years

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On September 4, my husband, Eric Masterson, and I celebrated our 18-year wedding anniversary. Two days later, he headed out on a six-month bike trek to follow the migratory path of the broad winged hawk from New Hampshire to South America, a journey that will cross 5 time zones, 40 degrees of latitude, and 5,000 miles — research for his next book. For some reason, I’m oddly calm about the whole thing.

Eric's send off, complete with a police escort
Eric’s send off, complete with a police escort

Letting Go of the Known

Eric’s been thinking about this trip for more than four years. During that time, I tried to not-so-subtly steer him towards book projects that kept him closer to home and closer to me, in the delusion that proximity to me would keep him safe (did I mention I’m all powerful?) and the misconception that living together at all times was what married people did. We were already challenging that last idea — I’d begun spending several months away from home in Nashville working on my own creative endeavors and our marriage was surviving just fine, if not flourishing in a new way. Eric’s proposed trip, however, had a large element of physical risk. I am not good with physical risk. I also have some control issues.

One day, Eric looked at me and said, “Tricia, I know you worry about me being dead on the side of road in Guatemala, but if I don’t do this, it’s death by a thousand cuts.”

And that logic, if that’s what it is, I completely understood. I wrote and performed an 80-minute one-woman show, How to Draw a Nekkid Man, based on that very premise. In fact, the exact line in my show is, “I knew if I did this consulting work for much longer I was going to die. Slowly, but I was going to die.” Right after that line (and in real life), I left everything I knew and moved to Ireland to become an artist. From that perspective, a 5,000-mile solo bike trek to South America made perfect sense to me.

Like-Minded Souls

A dear friend once summed up both of us: “Neither one of you breeds well in captivity.” He was right. So after 18 years of marriage, we are finally figuring out that the best thing we can do for ourselves and our marriage is to give each other the freedom and space to grow, whatever that may look like. For now, while Eric’s cycling to South America, I’ll be back in Nashville working on my own creative projects. I’ll also be serving as mission control for Eric’s journey and peddling with him in spirit (goodness knows I don’t want to actually peddle. I’m more of a support vehicle kind of girl). As our friend Jack said to me, “Eric may be riding the bike, but you’re on the phantom tandem seat.”

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On a little getaway before the trip

Guardians of Our Solitude

Just last week, a good friend sent me some writing about marriage by the poet Rilke — something to strive for indeed.

The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.

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The Vet, the Truck Driver, and a Lesson in Service

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This past week, The Moth MainStage debuted in Nashville. I was honored to share the stage with four amazing storytellers, among them Jerry Neal, a 95-year-old  WWII bomber pilot, who — despite surviving the Depression and a world war — looked maybe 75. [Read more…] about The Vet, the Truck Driver, and a Lesson in Service

Women Who Stare at Fainting Goats

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Old friends
The goat owner and me

My dear friend Mary Phil and her husband own a farm just outside of Nashville. Mary Phil and I have known each other since what seems like time began, but actually since we were college sophomores, when we would lay in bed and sing Tammy Wynette at the top of our lungs. I was her maid of honor, some 30 years ago, and I have called her every wedding anniversary to cheer their marriage on. I like being part of their marital success.

[Read more…] about Women Who Stare at Fainting Goats

Big Risk, Big Reward

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I’ve always wanted to be a country music singer. The trouble is, I don’t really have vocal range. I can sing about an octave, which limits my song selections but not my dream. So when I’m alone soaking in a tub or driving in my car, I belt out what I can — usually Tammy Wynette.

Friends in High Places

As it turns out, in the past several years I’ve reconnected with my dear friend Amy Grant, who knows a thing or two about music. And last weekend, I had the great pleasure of performing “How to Draw a Nekkid Man” and conducting storytelling workshops at  a Creative Discovery event she hosted at the Ritz Carlton’s Reynold’s Plantation in Georgia. Veteran songwriter Leslie Satcher joined us and conducted songwriting workshops as well. Leslie’s written huge hits, including Martina McBride’s “When God Fearing Women Get the Blues” and Willie Nelson’s “You Remain,” which Willie told her was his favorite song he’d ever recorded. Basically, I was running with the singer/songwriter big dogs. And as long as I stayed securely in my storytelling world, I felt like a big dog, too.

LeslieAmyTricia
Leslie writing songs on the fly, while cracking us up at the same time.

We spent the day telling workshop participants — many of whom were not artists — to get out of their comfort zone, take creative risks, and be vulnerable; to not worry about being perfect. They fearlessly plunged in, having already shown tremendous courage by just showing up. After two days with these incredible people, their bravery started to rub off.

No Time to be Timid

At the concert Saturday evening, Amy stopped her set to invite several special guests on stage to sing. I was the first one. I said, “I’ve been asking y’all to take creative risks all day; it’s time for me to take one, too.” Frankly, I was a wreck. Then, with Leslie accompanying me, and Amy’s band joining in, I sang Tammy Wynette’s “I Don’t Want to Play House.”

Now, I’m not sure it was well thought out to make my country music debut with a six-time Grammy award-winner and Willie Nelson’s best friend, but I decided either to go big or go home.

TRBsinging
The sequins helped.

I wasn’t terrible.

Without the support of Amy and Leslie, who rehearsed with me and literally talked me through the performance, I could have never taken that risk. I couldn’t have done it without the workshop participants either, who gave me inspiration, and bless their hearts, a standing ovation (for effort, not talent). Two days later, I woke up with a host of new storytelling ideas rolling around in my head and later that week, I faced a first-time work challenge with a newfound confidence.  Apparently, stepping out of my comfort zone and scaring myself to death has jumpstarted my creative juices and helped me confront other fears as well.

Note to self: take a big risk, get a big reward.

For now, balance has been restored and I’m back to singing in the tub and in the car. Just in case, I’m going to start working on a new song. And I’m happy to take requests — but only if it’s in the octave I can sing.

Photo credits: Matt Huesmann

Let’s Stay in Touch

  • Share this blog with your friends — just use the icons below.
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  • Want to receive these blogs in your email inbox? Please register at the top right of this page. While you’re there, you can like my artist’s Facebook page and follow me on Twitter.
  • Spread the word — your voice is invaluable in bringing my work to new audiences.
  • Thanks for your support!