Lucky MACK Gets His Groove Back

Coming back to creative work after a long season of caregiving for my elderly father has felt like a bizarre identity crisis in sensible shoes. You’re technically back in your life. Back in your routines. Back in the studio…and yet, something in you is still buffering. Your eye remembers. Your instincts remember. Your nervous system, meanwhile, is running an unauthorized beta version held together by caffeine, side-eye, and pure will. Sometimes gin.

You don’t come back as the same person, but the work still recognizes you; which is comforting, and also slightly rude. “I’m still me. Hold me?” Ugh. I’m just a hot, steaming cup of need.

The first photo session (photos coming soon) after returning to Seattle, in October, was a tasteful reminder that I am not, in fact, a robot. Some things came back immediately. My eye. My sense of light. My ability to read a room and identify nonsense before it finishes its sentence. Other things needed a warm-up. Muscle memory required a meeting, a follow-up meeting, and possibly a small performance bonus. There was no room for doubt or insecurity. They were a waste of time. But there was also no escaping the truth that I was a bit rusty. Not tragic. Just deeply inconvenient to my ego, which felt aggressively on brand for this era of my life. Fortunately, I do not work in a vacuum, a bunker, or a solo spiral. Just looking at one of the photos taken reminded me I was exactly where I needed to be.

Reconnecting creatively with Harmony felt like muscle memory waking up in full Dolby surround sound. The shorthand. The pacing. The shared standards. The quiet trust that lets ideas move quickly without unnecessary explaining, emotional labor, or interpretive dance. Less performance. More competence. Frankly, a public service.

True collaboration isn’t about dividing tasks. It’s about having someone in the room who knows the rhythm when yours is still putting on eyeliner and looking for its keys.

The images below are from a session with Danae last June. Danae is an author and voice artist with a book launching this March, My Sap Is Rising, which explores healing, wholeness, and the wisdom carried in the body, which naturally made photographing her both a pleasure and a light exercise in creative intimidation. In the best possible way, of course. Nothing like aiming a camera at someone who actually understands embodiment for a living.

There’s a quiet alignment between what Danae explores in her work and what creative re-entry really feels like. Trust what the body remembers. Let the brain catch up when it’s ready. Ideally after coffee. Possibly after a snack. Better after bourbon.

These days, I’m interested in depth over noise, intelligence over urgency, and working with people who actually know what they’re doing, and don’t require a motivational quote to function. Momentum doesn’t need fireworks, hype, or a personal brand manifesto. It needs clarity, consistency, and a very low tolerance for nonsense. “Ooh…SNAP!”

The groove does come back. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes dramatically. Sometimes with an eye roll, a strong opinion, and a renewed commitment to better lighting, but it comes back, and frankly…so do you. Think better boundaries and less patience for bullshit.