[ Artist / Within ] Inside the creative space & mind of BK-based singer-songwriter and producer, Sali

A mere 15-minute walk from my apartment to the other side of Bed-Stuy is the sing-songy, angelic, modern-day hippie Sali. I mean, fairy-like is the only way I can truly describe her because she has this light, ethereal energy to her that makes you feel like your dreams are about to be realized in her very presence. And that reflects within her cozy apartment, too — with greenery flourishing under soft sunlight everywhere, and cute collections of artful knick-knacks that are both adorable and whimsical, but of course, only a fairy-like human would see beauty in such things.

Sali is a singer-songwriter and producer based in Brooklyn, NY. She writes her own songs to capture that ambient, present-tense nostalgia.

I spoke with Sali about her song-writing process, how she draws inspiration from her photography, travels and other artistic endeavors, and her thoughts on being a creative versus an artist.

So talk to me about your creative process. How would you channel your creative energy?

Okay, so I kind of think about it as turning the faucet on and turning it off, and there are some moments where you can allow yourself to be creative and some moments where you don't really have brain space for it. So I think when I'm about to enter my creative moment, I'm like, okay, now I'm open to the spirit. I'm open to the movement now, and so then I'm like, okay, now I'm writing a song. Usually starts with a small idea. Sometimes it happens when I'm falling asleep, a little piece of the song, or I'm walking somewhere, and then I either capture that in some way, record that or write that down. And then as I'm going about my day doing the things I need to do, it's kind of like the theme song for that day, or the thing that's running in the background when I'm actually working on something and making it into a product. It's happening probably in my studio or here. It's me using my piano or voice memoing to myself or singing while I'm walking somewhere.

[Sali is positioning photos within a frame] What are you making here?

Basically, I took a Polaroid when I was in London. I blew it up. It's like when I was living in East London, and it was a really cool time because I was living by myself. This is a picture I took in Chinatown. I was trying to figure out what's the organization. This is a picture I took in Mali. I also collect postcards from travel. So this one is from white Travel Art Gallery in London, same time as I was here. This one is from London, also. Yeah, I just feel like if you're traveling, you have to, but I don't really think it's my thing. You know what I mean? I don't know. But I also look at it like, ‘I'm a hoarder.’

Going back to what you mean by what your thing is, so then what do you think your thing is?

I think my thing is performance, and that means a lot of things, but I feel like my favorite kind of things involve an audience really in the moment. Experience with people feels most important to me, but I also love photography, and I feel like artists need to have many ways of capturing what they're feeling and that they can work through all of those things together. I have a song, “All At Once,” and the cover is a Polaroid that I took. So I feel they're all always in conversation.

I mean, obviously your music is probably what you feel more gravitated towards? But is it because there's an audience or…

Because I think the live performance of the song is what makes me want to make the song, but definitely there's an internal thing that happens by myself when I'm making the music.

When do you feel like it's ready to be shared, though?

That's a hard one. I think that the music wouldn't be where it is if I didn't share it at all. Because the first time I showed any song to anyone was my first song, “Better.” I showed it to Leyla, and because of that, I finished the song, and then because of that, I wrote another one. So if I didn't share it the first time, then nothing would've ever happened probably.

Do you like it better because you shared it?

Do I like it better because I shared it? Yeah. It got better after I shared it. It was probably at 25%. I shared it, and then they were like, “You could definitely do something with this song. Keep writing.” And then I made it better after that.

Okay. Are you writing now, your song? Are you writing now?

Am I writing anything now? Yeah, the faucet is a little bit closed right now. I'm not really ready to receive a song right now, because once I do, then my whole everything becomes consumed with completing it. So right now, I have little bits of things that are written. They're not put together yet. The thing is, I write a song and then I start producing it, and that's a six, seven month process, and I kind of like to go one by one. Sometimes, there’s one that's getting produced, there's another one that's being written, and it's kind of like a conveyor belt. But, if I had a bunch of different things at the same stage, nothing would ever find its way out into the world. So right now there are two songs on the production conveyor belt, and so I don't really feel comfortable opening myself up to writing something right now. Does that sound crazy?

Do you wait for something to come to you, or are you just purposely not going into it because you're like, “I can't focus on other things.”

So I'm kind of like, okay, now I'm writing, and then whatever comes to me will be my next project.

Okay, so you decide. That's interesting though.

Yeah, that's true. It's kind of like you have to be ready to receive, and once you're ready, then you're like, okay, I'm open to inspiration. I can start writing something now. Then everything that I'm going through, whatever from this moment will funnel into that song. You know what I mean?

It'll be the thing that captures this time period. But what if you feel like there's not much happening in your life to capture?

There's probably a backlog. There's old stuff. The backlog.

No, I kind of like that. You kind of have control over when you're getting creative energy.

Yeah, I just, I don't know. I guess everyone's different. Any artist is different. So it's like, oh, I wait until something happens, and then it's like, oh, I go into it and you have to write. I only do really one thing at a time. It's like I know a lot of musicians who are constantly working on ten things at once. I need to work on one thing.

[Some more conversations about Sali’s artwork and souvenirs from her travels]

So do you think there's a difference between the term “artist” and “creative”?

I'm confused about people using the word “creative.” I don't know what that means.

Yeah, what do you think it means?

I don't know, but sometimes I agree, I don't love it. I don't know why, but it just sounds like a little capitalist to me. I think it's not because the term is capitalistic, but I feel like it exists because if you're not a corporate person, then you're a creative, but it's everybody. So it's like the “other.” And still, when people use it, they still are talking about designing stuff for Google. You know what I mean? It just sounds very commercial to me now, but I think “artist” is the timeless thing that we can call ourselves.

Do you think everyone can call anyone who is creative, an artist?

Yeah, dude. In “The Artist’s Way,” I really liked the part at the beginning, where they’re like, “identify the monster in your life that told you you couldn't be an artist, draw them as a monster, and draw the things that they said to you and really get that out.”

I know a lot of people are leaning to the term “multidisciplinary artist,” so maybe that's the non-capitalistic alternative.

Yeah, I like that. Or Renaissance Person.

But I guess, maybe, people are worried it might come off pretentious.

Whatever, or people say “multi-hyphenate.” It just makes sense that if you're into one thing, you're going to be into other things. If you're a singer, you're also going to be love acting. Or if you were a painter, you're also going to love photography. It just makes so much sense.

And the way that we have to categorize — that's the other thing, too. I get so frustrated, and maybe this is my whole journey of why I'm not sure how to identify myself or label what my work is, because you're right, as a creative or someone who is creative, it kind of lends itself to each other.

Exactly. That's when “creative” would sound good, because it's like, yeah, you are going to be the most creative person in room. But that is really hard, and I feel like it's about Instagram.

I hate that there's a categorization to anything.

No, I hate it. Especially if I post a theater headshot, everyone would be like, “Let’s go! No more music.” That's really self-important. Nobody would care.

Well, and the other thing, too, is if you put so much energy into one part of yourself, then I don't know. Sometimes I get worried that it's like, well, it doesn't mean I stopped the other ones. It's just kind of like, this is where I'm at currently. This is just what I'm prioritizing.

Yeah, dude. I like that conversation about a creative. I know that some people really like that term. I feel like I've never thought about it. I feel like artist is better. And you're an artist.

[Sali shows me her candles]

Literally, this is a winter's pine candle.

Ooh…

It smells so good to me. Do you like it?

I don't smell it.

This is the first story of my artist portrait series and editorial campaign entitled Artist/Within. It is a collection of conversations I’ve captured with the artists in my life, revealing the delicate balance they maintain between their daily routines and the pursuit of their artistic passions.

Read other conversations within the collection here.