When Excitement Overrides Common Sense
It’s strange how easy it can be, at times, to temporarily lose your common sense—and do things in a way that’s completely unlike how you normally operate. Not everyone experiences this, but during my studio redesign I caught myself doing exactly that.
Which is ironic, considering my profession.
As a piano and theory teacher, one of the core principles I rely on every day is progression: introducing new concepts in logical, gradual steps so students aren’t overwhelmed. Pedagogy is built on structure, sequencing, and patience.
And yet, during this redesign, I completely ignored those same principles when dealing with my own learning process.
Knowing Better—and Doing the Opposite
In my defense, time pressure played a role. At that point in the redesign, I was working toward a deadline, and everything felt urgent. Still, the real issue wasn’t time—it was lack of forethought.
I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I wasn’t deeply familiar with the Akai Force or Maschine+. I had used a few presets here and there, maybe built a project or two, but I didn’t truly know these instruments.
Under normal circumstances, my approach would have been very different. I would have:
- Spent months working with each instrument independently
- Learned their workflows inside and out
- Developed a clear sense of what they were good at
- Only then planned how to integrate them into a broader production setup
Instead, I did something completely atypical for me.
I spent hours, days, even weeks trying to design a complex workflow that integrated two instruments I barely understood.
There was no realistic scenario where that was going to work.
A False Sense of Urgency
Looking back, it’s obvious why this approach was flawed. You can’t design a meaningful workflow around tools you don’t yet understand. That realization seems painfully obvious now—but at the time, I was caught up in the momentum of the project.
New gear was arriving quickly. The studio was evolving at a pace I’d never experienced before. I knew this redesign was likely a once-in-a-lifetime event—something that probably wouldn’t happen again in the same way.
That combination created a false sense of urgency.
I convinced myself that everything had to be figured out immediately. That I needed a complete, fully integrated workflow now. That experimenting with unfamiliar tools all at once was somehow essential to the success of the redesign.
In reality, it wasn’t.
Logic vs. Momentum
Had I paused for a moment—just long enough to step back—I would have realized that forcing a workflow was the opposite of how I usually work, and the opposite of how I teach.
But excitement has a way of overriding logic.
For a few weeks, I leaned fully into that momentum. And while it absolutely wasted time, it was also genuinely fun. I explored ideas I never would have touched otherwise. I learned—sometimes the hard way—what didn’t work, which eventually pointed me toward what did.
And to be fair, I did recover. I adjusted course, simplified my approach, and moved forward with far more clarity.
What I’d Do Differently (or Not)
If I were to do this whole project again, I’d try to watch for those moments where excitement starts to outweigh logic. I’d pause, breathe, and reassess before charging ahead.
That said, there’s another valid option: lean into the moment.
Yes, it may cost time. Yes, it may feel inefficient in hindsight. But sometimes those detours are where the most meaningful learning happens.
In this case, the time wasn’t entirely wasted—it just wasn’t efficient. And inefficiency, when paired with curiosity and enjoyment, isn’t always a bad thing.
Sometimes losing your common sense for a short while is just part of the creative process.
