Sweet Victory
One of my favorite games in the world is to notice what song is playing in my head as I go about the day; it is a great way to let me know the status of my subconscious. Music is equipped to carry messages that words alone simply cannot handle. When words are not sturdy enough to carry the raw energy of my tempestuous sorrows or gut wrenching grief, or are too clumsy for the tender, most delicate expressions of love and gratitude, I put the words to music; I write songs.
But that is not exactly true. I don’t write the music but act more as a midwife who helps a laboring woman bring her baby into the world.
This is not unusual; a lot of writers and artists of another medium feel this way about their work---that it is born more than crafted. La Rooster has a musical muse that help while she is writing novels---it seems that each new story as its own soundtrack--- which is a double boon (like having twins) because she gets a new novel and new songs for the price of one creative effort.
What I am so curious about today is how music helps deliver information from another realm in a way that words alone cannot. And my question is: Does color do the same thing? Are there some things that can only “said” in cobalt blue or grey or crimson? And what about shape: does round say something that a pyramid or square can’t say? Or how is it that marble can give expression to an artistic phrase that wood or granite cannot?
My challenge for today is to figure out just exactly what it is that I really want to say, and how is the best way to say it. I also challenge myself to listen to and pay attention to all the information that comes directly to me so carefully that I can experience its color, shape and texture too; and does this information have a sweet or sour or bitter tase or smell? I don’t think it is only a figure of speech to say that some information can soothe us while other info grates on our nerves, or invigorate us, put us on edge, or sparks a creative process of our own. Or why do we say that something stinks when it really doesn’t involve the olfactory glands at all? Why is victory sweet?
But that is not exactly true. I don’t write the music but act more as a midwife who helps a laboring woman bring her baby into the world.
This is not unusual; a lot of writers and artists of another medium feel this way about their work---that it is born more than crafted. La Rooster has a musical muse that help while she is writing novels---it seems that each new story as its own soundtrack--- which is a double boon (like having twins) because she gets a new novel and new songs for the price of one creative effort.
What I am so curious about today is how music helps deliver information from another realm in a way that words alone cannot. And my question is: Does color do the same thing? Are there some things that can only “said” in cobalt blue or grey or crimson? And what about shape: does round say something that a pyramid or square can’t say? Or how is it that marble can give expression to an artistic phrase that wood or granite cannot?
My challenge for today is to figure out just exactly what it is that I really want to say, and how is the best way to say it. I also challenge myself to listen to and pay attention to all the information that comes directly to me so carefully that I can experience its color, shape and texture too; and does this information have a sweet or sour or bitter tase or smell? I don’t think it is only a figure of speech to say that some information can soothe us while other info grates on our nerves, or invigorate us, put us on edge, or sparks a creative process of our own. Or why do we say that something stinks when it really doesn’t involve the olfactory glands at all? Why is victory sweet?
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