Today we’d like to introduce you to Mike Moran

Hi Mike, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.

In my mid-to late twenties I had kind of quarter life crisis. I had been sober since I was 21 and life was pretty good. But I hadn’t scratched the surface on becoming the artist I knew I was supposed to be. I had coasted for years on the fact that I was doing so much better in life that when I was younger, and on paper things looked fine: right girlfriend, back in school, great relationship with family, steady employment, etc. All the things a young guy in recovery is supposed to do.

I was proud of myself, and grateful, and relatively happy, but I knew there was a huge peace missing. The thing with being an artist (especially one just starting out), is that there is no external pressure to get things moving. There is an urgency when it comes to money, education, familial obligations, and what not. But noone tells you that they are worried about you not spending enough time creating.

To most people, creativity exists as a fun hobby, but to an artist it’s an existential necessity. If you walk around with a bleeding wound, everyone tells you you need to take care of that issue asap. But no one can see the internal trauma of being a creative, who is not creating.

I had wanted to play music since second grade when we got cable, and I first started watching MTV. I was the first kid my age I knew to get an electric guitar for Christmas. My parents were very supportive, and signed me up for lessons, but to be honest, 7/8 year old me didn’t have the discipline, or patience to learn much about music. I likely had, and still have some form of undiagnosed ADHD. And plus, that was about the age serious depression made its presence known in my young life.

For years I lived in fantasy most of the time. Always imagining the great rock musician I would become, but never putting in the work. I can tell you the most misery I’ve experienced in life has come from knowing I need time be making art, and not doing it.

Somehow this mostly went on through adolescence, and even into adulthood. Once I got sober I thought I would naturally nurture my creative side, but again my own resistance, and outside pressures to focus on other things, kept me from truly pursing the life I know I needed to.

It all came to head around the age of 27 when I sank into a deep depression and knew I needed to hault the path I was on, as healthy as it may have seemed to others, and reinvent myself as a starving artist. It was a huge risk as I had no idea if it would
turn out, and I worried I was too old to be entertaining such romantic ideas, and yet: I just kind of had to.

As an artist I feel I have no choice. I just have to do it.

Too old? Too broke? Not enough time? Not enough energy? Too bad. You have to do it anyway.

I thought music would be what I focused on, but I had signed up for an improv class, and was suprised to find that I was quite good at it. This was strange because I’m rarely good at anything right away. That led to stand up comedy which I also was suprised to discover I could do pretty well, and eventually writing, starting with a humor column in AOL’s Patch North Baltimore.

It was reinvigorating to discover I could still explore new territory in life that was satisfying, and interesting. I need that kind of perpetual discovery. Whenever I bemoan myself for not progressing fast enough, I remind myself how awesome it is that so much more with be revealed if I keep moving forward. So much more to discover on this journey. Many years to come.

All the while though, I knew I needed to have more music in my life, despite the fact that I was somewhat successful in local comedy (at least relative to what my expectations were). For me, I always wanted more than anything to be a great song writer. But my problem was, I would always come up with one good riff, but could never find the second part without it declining in quality. So one day while messing around on bass with my roommates, I improvised a bass line I liked with a decent vocal melody over it. My roommates told me it was good, and I should record it so I don’t forget it. I decided I was going to work on this song until it was complete. And by complete I don’t mean just cranked out. I wanted to craft each individual part until it just hit that perfect something. So inch by inch I worked on a song that would eventually become titled, “Like there’s a Gun to my Head,” and would form the basis of my dream band, The Loss.

It took my thirty years, but I finally got the rock group I longed for since I was in elementary school.

Today I have every creative project I have ever wanted, or at least have the wheels in motion for each:

Stand up comedy
Short form improv troupe: Senior Mints
Original band: The Loss
Cover band: MTV Tribute
Podcast: Confessional
Support Group: A Support Group for Depression and Anxiety where we Eat Cereal

And I do some writing here and there as well: for the satirical news paper, The Hard Times, as well as contributing some to a popular true crime podcast, and publishing my own articles on Medium, and every few years I write something for Skeptic Magazine.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?

I try and mainly focus on the craft of each individual project. I once tried to sell-out a little with comedy, and figured I would try and make it as a “road comic.” I found the creative restraints, and the pettiness of others attempting the same to be unbearable. I learned a valuable lesson. When I just focus on what the art wants itself to be, everything else eventually falls into place. I’ll gladly work a day job and produce what I truely want, over compromising for the sake of steady pay.

I have found there is a full-proof way to be a successful artist, and that’s just creating the piece that is calling you to create it. Whether or not the public likes it is secondary. Making money? Work at a coffee shop during the day.

As far as audiance goes, obviously none of us want to feel like no one is watching us, or not acknowledging something we took a lot of time and effort to create. But the fact that these is so much media created these days, much of it for free, means the supply far outweighs the demand.

I find for myself I get depressed if I look at it objectively. Like staring into an ocean of comedians, musicians, podcaters, I feel
I can never make an impact. Which is why I try and look at it in an almost solipsistic manner. What do I personally need in my world to make it feel like I’m succeeding? The goal is more to be surrounded by a circle of Individuals who truly enjoy what I do. That’s a lot more doable than waiting in line for fame, desperately trying to please everyone.

Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?

I think I’m mostly known as a stand up comedian, though the support group i started has members in the thousands, which I never expected. Surprisingly, the largest audience I seemed to have ever reached was when I co-hosted an AM radio afternoon show, with Baltimore DJ, Mickey Cucchiella. I thought radio was dead too, especially AM, but somehow we reached thousands every day!

I’m someone who for whatever reason feels called to work on multiple creative projects. I don’t know why. But I have found in a way I’m looking for the same thing in each of them. It’s hard to explain but there is a vibe I’m looking for that (I think) kind of comes from honesty, and authenticity. I’m always chipping away to find that elusive something with any endeavor I take on. When the note rings just right.

Of all I’ve worked on, I think I’m most proud of the original band, The Loss. I know I’ll never be a rock star but playing original songs with a band of musicians, who are great friends as well is all I’ve ever wanted. We haven’t had a huge response, but we definitely have many people who enjoy our music. I’ve even seen a few sing along in the audiance! Oh, and we got over favorite VJ, Matt Pinfield to appear in our music video, introducing it as though it were on MTV years ago. Feels great!

What was your favorite childhood memory?

A great childhood memory I have, will definitely come off as pretty boring, but was special for me. It involved a long rectangular shaped box that something around the house must have come in. I was probably four or maybe a tad younger, and my Mom and Dad were putting me inside of it and letting my slide through, and play in it, and just doing all sorts of fun things in our living room with this ordinary old cardboard box.

The three of us were just laughing and playing, and somehow it was just the best time.

We then walked in the summer evening to a kind of hippie-ish restaurant a few blocks away in Harrisonburg Va (where I grew up), called the Little Grill. I loved that place and still do. My Dad and I visit it every time I’m doing comedy down there.

Just walking in the warm air with my two parents, to go out to eat was such a wonderful feeling at that age. I can remember sitting in the restaurant thinking of all the fun things I could do with the box later on. And it hit me: I make a car out of it!

I had my parents cut two rectangular holes in one side, and I used colored magic markers to make the headlights, doors windshed wipers, and everything else.

It sounds so simple but being that age with people who loved me, eating in a restaurant, doing very simple fun things, and letting my little imagination run wild was enough for a perfect evening.

I long for that kind of warmth, and simple excitement for life as an adult.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @mike_moran_comedy @depression_anxiety_cereal @confessionalpodcast
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/michael.j.moran.92?mibextid=LQQJ4d https://www.facebook.com/mikemorancomedy?mibextid=JRoKGi https://www.facebook.com/ConfessionalPodcast?mibextid=LQQJ4d
• Youtube: https://youtu.be/pwgA9gG79e0?si=CwB5Jfbdv31N2sRl https://youtu.be/FikPE7-EzgE?si=51jaxCANNLJ-U4IM