John was featured in the newspaper “The OSCAR” in Nadine Dawson’s feature “This Creative Life.” We will be bringing you a better PDF link once it is available, but below is what the article looks like, and what it says!
John Allaire – “This Creative Life” by Nadine Dawson – May 2026
“Creativity isn’t something you switch on and off — It’s just there, lurking around, waiting to interrupt a perfectly peaceful moment.”
When an alien arrives in your world, what do you do? Full disclosure– I’m the alien and the world is Quinn’s on a Saturday afternoon. The place is crowded and joyful. I think I’m on the last vacant stool, tucked up to the bar. I ask the barmaid, what do you have that isn’t alcohol or pop? Yup, that kind of alien. But if you’re John Allaire, a musician/storyteller extraordinaire with four decades of performance experience, and if you’re cool, yes, but more importantly, classy, you welcome the alien into your world and generously share your stories. We shout-talk for a few precious minutes then, he puts on his oh-so-cool shades, first worn one fateful night, something about protecting his eyes from drunk patrons and flying salt, then he slips off his stool, steps up to the mic tunes his authentic, limited-edition space guitar of Chris Hadfield fame, straps on his harmonica, and begins to perform. And the people around him are happy about him, baskets of sweet potato fries and glasses amber-filled and frothy with promise, and he is happy in front of them, and I, well I I’m just lucky to have stumbled onto the planet of happy, of John-Allaire happy. A planet where, thanks to his rotating-red-and-blue spotlight-sharing generosity, singer-songwriters ply their trade on Saturday afternoon, and all is well with the world. Isn’t Old Ottawa South grand? He leaves shortly on a cross-country tour, newly-published book in hand, though you might just catch him before he goes. Meanwhile, here’s what John Allaire has to say about This Creative Life of his:
What does creativity mean to you?
Creativity, to me, isn’t just about self-expression, it’s about contribution. It’s about taking whatever perspective or experience you’ve got and putting it back into the world in a way that connects with people.
I’ve always felt that creativity lives somewhere between the personal and the communal. You start with something internal (a feeling, a story, a question) but it only really comes alive when it lands in a room full of people and becomes shared.
Whether it’s a song in a bar, a story in a book, or a conversation after a show, that exchange matters. It shapes community. And in a small way, it shapes culture. That’s the part of creativity that keeps me coming back to it—it’s not just about making something, it’s about being part of something.
What propels you to live a creative life?
I don’t think it was ever really a choice. It feels more like something that chose me. It’s just the way my brain works. I tend to look at life through a creative lens. I’m always trying to make something out of what I see, what I experience, even what I don’t fully understand yet.
I’ve had other short-term jobs over the years, more practical, less creative, but I always found my way back to this. Back to writing, performing, building something out of nothing and then putting it out into the world. At a certain point, you stop resisting that pull. You realize it’s not just what you do, it’s how you process life. And for me, sharing that process with people is part of the deal.
What are you most proud of?
I’m most proud of my family, without question. My wife, my daughters, we’ve built a life where creativity isn’t something separate, it’s just part of how we live. It’s valued, it’s encouraged, and it’s shared. That means a lot to me, because this kind of life can be unpredictable, and they’ve always been right there in it with me.
In terms of the work itself, I think I’m most proud of the longevity. I’ve been able to sustain a creative life for over four decades now. Fifteen albums, sold some of my visual art, and now my first novel coming out in May—Motel Matchbooks.
None of that was guaranteed. There’s no clear path for it. So the fact that I’ve been able to keep showing up, keep creating, and keep finding an audience for that work over time. That’s something I’m really proud of.
What do you remember loving as a child?
I remember really loving solitude.
I have two sisters who are quite a bit older than me, so I spent a lot of time on my own as a kid. And instead of resisting that, I think I learned to make it my own… to be comfortable in my own head, to sit with my thoughts, to imagine things.
Looking back, I think that had a big impact on me creatively. It gave me a kind of independence, and maybe a bit of confidence too. When you’re used to being alone with your ideas, it becomes a little easier to trust them. And I think that’s carried through into my work, being able to create something in that quiet space, and then have the confidence to bring it out into the world and share it.
How did you come to your [art, music, gardening, writing, business, community work, pottery, etc.]?
It really started with my sisters. They were big music fans (The Beatles, a lot of 60s harmony groups) and that sound was always around the house.
I think what grabbed me early on was the harmonies, but also the idea that these songs were made. That there was a process behind them. It felt like something I could step into myself. When I was about 13, my sister showed me a few chords on her guitar, and that was it. I was hooked. I started out playing Beatles and Neil Young songs, just trying to figure out how it all worked.
But pretty quickly, I realized I was just as interested in making my own songs. Taking these chords and pairing them with words that were already floating around in my head. There was something really freeing about that, like I’d found a way to take all those internal thoughts and give them a shape.
What obstacles did you face?
Honestly, probably the same ones I still face—my own impatience.
I tend to work quickly, and I’m drawn to that initial spark… that rush when an idea first hits. I want to follow it all the way through and get it out into the world as fast as possible. The challenge is that not everything benefits from that speed. Some ideas need more time. And I’ve definitely had moments where something probably should’ve stayed in the oven a little longer.
It can also make collaboration tricky, because not everyone works at that pace. But over time, I’ve come to see that as part of the process too. I’d rather wrestle with that than not create at all. My mindset has always been: obstacles are there to be worked through. If I have an idea, I’m more interested in figuring out how it can work than why it won’t.
How did you overcome them?
I don’t know that I have completely overcome them. I like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes, but that impatience still shows up from time to time. It’s just part of how I’m wired.
What’s helped is having a strong support system around me. My wife, Lisa, is a big part of that. She’s honest with me in a way that keeps me grounded and supportive in a way that keeps me moving forward. And the people I work with, bandmates, colleagues, they help keep things in perspective too. So maybe it’s less about overcoming it, and more about managing it. Recognizing it when it shows up and having people around you who aren’t afraid to call you on it.
What is the source of your creative energy?
I think a big part of it is a sense that time isn’t unlimited. There’s a feeling that I’ve got things in me that I want to get out into the world, and I don’t want to leave them there, unfinished or unshared. That creates a kind of urgency. But at the same time, it goes back to something I mentioned earlier, it’s just how I’m wired. I can’t really not do it. Even when I try to step away from a creative lifestyle, I find myself coming back to making something. So I’d say it’s a mix of that internal drive and that awareness that time matters.
Can you describe your creative process?
I don’t know that I can describe it in any fixed way. It changes every time. Sometimes it starts with a line or a lyric, sometimes it’s a chord progression or a melody. When I was writing the book, ideas would show up in completely random moments—driving, cutting the lawn, just out of nowhere.
I could probably describe the mechanics of finishing something and getting it out into the world, but that’s not really the creative part. The actual process feels a lot more organic than that. Ideas come when they come. And in my experience, the good ones aren’t forced. You can chase them a bit, but there’s a point where you have to recognize when something is real and when it isn’t.
What is your creative life’s purpose?
That’s a big question. I’m not sure I have a clean answer for it. I don’t really think in terms of endgames or legacy. I don’t have a checklist of things I need to accomplish before I’m done. And I don’t even know what “done” would look like. Creativity isn’t something you switch on and off—it’s just there, lurking around, waiting to interrupt a perfectly peaceful moment. So I assume I’ll keep finding ways to create for as long as I’m around, even if the form changes over time.
That said, I have found a sense of purpose in the community side of it. Curating the weekly singer-songwriter series The Allaire Show at Quinn’s Ale House in Old Ottawa South (in its 16th year!!) has become a big part of that. Bringing in different songwriters from across the country and around the world each week, creating a space where people can share their work and where an audience shows up ready to listen… that’s been really meaningful.
Over time, it’s become more than just a show. There’s a real sense of community there. People connecting through the art, supporting each other, even giving back through the show’s charitable side.If there’s a purpose in it for me, I think it lives there—in creating something that brings people together and gives them a space to experience and share creativity.
Who are your greatest influences?
There are a lot. Probably too many to list properly.
I always start with The Beatles. That was the foundation for me. But beyond that, I’ve always been drawn to storytellers: Elvis Costello, The Clash, Paul Westerberg, Neil Young. Artists who can take something personal or observational and turn it into something that really connects.
I’m also influenced by the advocates. People like Bob Dylan and Billy Bragg… artists who aren’t afraid to say something, to push a little.
And then there’s the literary side. I’ve always loved poetry and prose with some edge to it—the Beats, Kerouac, Ginsberg, Patti Smith. That whole world of writing has definitely shaped how I approach lyrics and storytelling. I used to publish a music fanzine in high school and university. Writing has always been in my life.
There are a lot more, but those are probably the core ones—the desert island picks.
What do you dream of doing?
Honestly, I already feel like I’m doing it. I get to play music, write, create, and tour the world to the tune of about 150 shows per year. So it’s hard to ask for much more than that. In that sense, there isn’t some big, distant dream I’m chasing. I’m kind of in it. I’ve played the big stages, the tour busses, the small clubs. And I’m still doing it. If I ever really dreamed of doing anything, this is it.
What I hope for is sustainability. To be able to keep doing this, to keep creating, and to keep connecting with people through it. That’s the real goal. And on a more practical level… maybe I dream of a world where I don’t have to chase down payment at the end of the night! You’d be surprised how often that’s the hardest part of the gig! Most of my ‘regular’ venues are very good, but there are situations where I have to hound to be paid. Just pay the artists, folks!
What motto do you live by?
I think it comes down to perspective. Life is funny, when you stand back and really look at it. So I try to find the humour in things, even the frustrating parts, even the moments that don’t go the way you planned. If you can laugh at it, you can get through it.
That’s probably the closest thing I have to a motto: don’t take it all too seriously, and keep your sense of humour intact.
What is your superpower?
Storytelling, for sure. I’ve always had an affection for shaping things into a good story (and I’m told that I don’t really let the hard facts get in the way too much! Haha!)
But I think that comes from the same place as the music. It’s about finding a way to connect, to make something feel real and engaging for people… to read the room.
And on a more practical level, I’d say vocal harmonizing is a superpower I enjoy. I can usually find a third, a fifth, a seventh—whatever a line needs. That’s been a useful skill over the years.
What makes you feel most vitally alive?
Applause. (Stay with me here…)
Not just the sound of it, but what it represents. It’s that immediate response to something you’ve put out there. Something that came from a real place. There’s a moment when you share something, on a stage, in a room, and you feel people listening, really listening. And then they respond. That exchange, that connection, that’s what makes me feel most alive. It’s instant, but it’s also deeper than that. It’s a kind of validation that what you’re doing matters, at least in that moment, to someone else. I am unabashedly a performer. I do like the heat of the footlights.
What advice would you give someone interested in developing their creative talents?
Forget it! Stay in school! Don’t become a musician, etc… Leave it to the professionals! I don’t need the competition! (Haha!)
Seriously though, I’d say don’t focus too much on rules. Focus on experience. Just start doing it. Learn from people you respect. Watch what they do, ask questions, take in what makes sense to you. But don’t treat any of it as absolute. Creativity is individual, and the results are always subjective. There isn’t one right way to do it. You figure out what works by actually doing the work, making mistakes, taking chances and adjusting as you go.
At the end of the day, the only real rules are the ones you create for yourself. There are no wrong answers. You have to trust your instincts and follow them.
If you are interested in learning more about John Allaire, visit him at JohnAllaire.com
Nadine Dawson is an artist of fickle loyalties who lives in Old Ottawa South. She is the almost completely unknown author of Lavender, Longing, Love: A Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Memoir, as well as the facilitator of the column: This Creative Life.
Upcoming John Allaire events in Ottawa:
The Allaire Show 3pm Saturdays at Quinn’s 1070 Bank St. (Doors open at 2pm)
Guests: April 25 – Ron Leary from Windsor, ON
May 2 Evan Rotella from Niagara Falls, ON
May 9 Season finale with Jeff Tanguay
Songwriter evening at Quinn’s with guests Kristine St-Pierre and Krista Hartman (Alberta) 7pm
Irene’s Pub May 29 – John Allaire and The Campistas concert and book launch with opening act K Dilla. Tickets here