Stifling the Muse?

I have recently been accompanying a lot of standard repertoire for high school musicians. Some of the pieces are rather difficult (especially the ones that have an entire orchestral part reduced to a piano without leaving any notes out!), some of them are harmonically simplistic but technically flashy, and some of them just strike me as mediocre pieces of music.

There are a couple, though, that really grab me, and I think: I wish I had written this... I could have written this... I can write something as compelling and as beautiful and as fun as this... Why don't I?

Not very long ago, I would have said that self-doubt and fear of not being good enough were the biggest obstacles. When I check that with myself now, though, it doesn't ring true. I honestly believe that if I created the time and managed my energy for the task, I have plenty of music to compose. And although I am still a little caught up in the effort it takes to get a piece performed, I have been sending out compositions to contests and calls for scores for long enough now that I realize there will be ample opportunities to seek or create a performance once a piece is written.

So what am I waiting for? Well, nothing really. My days and weeks are packed with other things: my job, my marriage, accompanying, More To Life, life in general. I am working toward creating more space in my life for composing, but creating that space takes effort in and of itself. So I beat myself up for not making composing more of a priority right now. A part of me believes that I'm just being impatient and another part believes that I'm just being lazy.

Sometimes, I can't win with myself, even when everyone around me is acknowledging the value of what I am creating day to day.

Challenging Connection

It's pretty easy for me to talk openly with my friends. I am not terribly guarded about my thoughts or opinions, and it usually takes quite a bit of effort to offend me. That being said, I have been avoiding a conversation with a close friend because I am afraid he just won't hear me, no matter how carefully or tactfully I speak. I know how to be graceful when speaking the truth, but I'm not sure that he has invited me to do so.

I was thinking about my options, and there are really two that I keep coming back to. I can basically ignore his self-defeating patterns of behavior and go on with our friendship. Or I can call these patterns to his attention in as nonthreatening a manner as I can muster. There are other options, of course, but these seem to be the most reasonable choices.

On the one hand, I want to accept him as he is, self-defeating patterns and all. This leaves me with an elephant in the room, but it preserves the relationship as it is. On the other hand, I want for him to be able to grow and thrive and realize for himself the fullness of his potential. This might (ideally) lead to him shattering a few illusions he holds about himself, others, and life in general, but I know he's quite comfortable with his perceptions as they are. What it comes down to is that I really don't know that he will appreciate me being honest about what I see. My desire for him to become more could ultimately be detrimental to our friendship.

When I translate that last statement into its most basic form, here's what I wind up with: I'm not completely honest and supportive to him, because I'm afraid he won't like me. I feel a little shocked and ashamed at that. But I know what I would want from a friend. Even if I didn't like it. I would choose honesty, even though I would want the acceptance. Maybe there is room for both.

The Web

I had a rehearsal with several intermediate school musicians yesterday. During my time at the school, I observed a remarkable exchange. One student was having a little trouble with his trombone piece. His teacher first asked if there were any notes he had a question about, and the student replied, Yes. The teacher then asked one of his peers to help him out. The other student very kindly and graciously worked for a moment with his fellow trombonist, and the rehearsal went on from there.

This was only a remarkable exchange for me as an observer. To the students and teacher, it seemed to be rather commonplace. But I see so much competition and so little compassion from day to day, even among people who are supposedly on the same team, that it was impressive to see genuine cooperation in action.

What would change in our lives if we all generously and kindly served, and graciously accepted service from, one another? What would change in our jobs? What would change in our families? What would change in our driving experience? What would change in our economy? What would change in our government?


Long before there was an internet, shamans believed in a different sort of world-wide web. A spiritual web of existence that connects all things. They held that what we do creates reverberations along that web, and it has an impact of which we may not even be aware. Whether we subscribe to this view or not, I believe what we do as individuals has incredible reach and unfathomable power. What are we doing with it?

To Trust Or Not To Trust

A couple of nights ago, it was rather late in the evening when the doorbell rang. Joy answered it, and I heard her talking with a man whose voice I didn't recognize. Her end of the conversation sounded like politely getting rid of a door-to-door salesman, but it was close to 10:00 at night. The man was carrying a pillowcase in which he had a PlayStation which he was trying to sell for $50. Joy was nice about it, but she turned him away.

We immediately started talking with each other about our desire to help him. Didn't we know someone who would like the game system? Did we even have $50 in cash lying around anywhere? Would it be insulting to him if we just ran after him and offered him a little something without requesting his PlayStation in return?

But cynicism and suspicion crept into our questions pretty quickly. How did we know it was even his PlayStation? What is he going to be using the money for exactly? Why is he going door to door so late to sell a single item? We decided it was probably best for us to be thankful for what we have and share it generously but wisely. Buying a game system out of a pillowcase from a peddler late in the evening somehow didn't seem wise.

The next evening, we got a call from one of our neighbors. A couple of houses down the street from us, a mother and her two children returned home from dinner to be accosted by a man with a gun. Apparently, he was trying to get into their house. I don't know how the situation got resolved as safely as it seemed to, or why the man left. We were getting our information third-hand, and the story had likely changed a bit. Still, the basic description of the man matched our peddler. It was unsettling.

Had our PlayStation salesman been carrying a gun? Was it a ploy to get into our home? Why wouldn't he have just forced his way in instead of creating a sales pitch? And why did Joy even open the door to a stranger so late at night?

Well, the last one seems like an obvious question, but it implies that we could keep someone from coming into our home just by keeping the door closed. We have an alarm system and we keep the doors closed, but if someone wanted to get into our home badly enough, they could. And although night time can be a little more creepy than broad daylight, there's no reason to assume safety just because the sun is out. Ultimately, life is a rather fragile thing. We are never truly secure. It all comes down to a trust that we share with one another as part of a common society.

I don't know what to make of our salesman. But I do know that there are plenty of reasons to live in fear. Good reasons. Logical reasons. But that doesn't seem like much of a life to me. I would rather choose to trust, even believing that I'll be disappointed from time to time. I believe my life will be fuller and richer for it.

Subtleties

I was working today on composing using virtual instruments, sounds created primarily by electronic means instead of acoustic instruments. I was choosing the palette for a piece, picking the specific sounds that would comprise the various elements of the music.

Before starting any composition, it's helpful to me not only to have a clear vision of what I want a piece to sound like but also to determine the general structure of the piece. When I am writing for acoustic instruments, the timbre of the piece is already limited. If the piece is intended to be performed by a flute and a cello, the "colors" will consist of sounds which can be produced by one of those instruments. Such limitations are somewhat beneficial to a composer. Without some boundaries, a piece might never get written.

When I am devising a set of timbres for a non-acoustic piece, my choices become exponentially broader. It can be a bit intimidating. I have much more control over every facet of a sound than when I write for human performers. Which means many more decisions. I never have to decide exactly how the members of a string quartet balance with one another, or how much reverb will be present in a particular performance space, or just how short a staccato note will be played. Or, or, or... All these options and more are at my discretion with a piece created on a computer.

To be completely honest, it's a lot of fun to play with all the details of a sound. When I get through with this creative preparation, I find I am a little more keenly tuned in to other details around me. It makes me wonder what little details I typically ignore, and I want to hold on to the heightened awareness as long as possible. Something will distract me eventually, but I am convinced that being aware is a choice.

I used to think that I needed to partition my life into my different areas of focus, but more and more I am seeing how everything feeds into the whole. The various ways I spend my time and energy don't have to distract from or compete with one another. Being creative begets creativity, and paying attention to details leads to greater awareness of details. The various ways I spend my time and energy don't have to distract from or compete with one another. They are all just part of a complete me.