I just finished reading Big Magic, by Elizabeth Gilbert. It is giving me many of the answers that I couldn’t put together.About creativity giving depth and a fuller meaning to life; about the value of creative activity, regardless of the nickel earned or the end product; about the fears that go along with creativity and the courage it takes to pursue creativity.
At the August HYMM (Harness Your Muse Mastermind) retreat, when asked why I entered the program, I answered that I wasn’t sure composing for a year was my idea, but that it gradually became my idea. Last Fall, Deborah had the audacity to suggest to me that I was a composer. This was flattering, but I had a long list of rational reasons ready to counter her.
I also had my comfortable, familiar, routines, and the sameness of my days, that were full, but were somewhat stale; a certain monotony, plodding along, that I nevertheless defended. If I started composing and writing about the experience, would I have to redefine myself and my lifestyle?
Warily, and almost grudgingly, I decided to try to compose during 2016, even though I wasn’t convinced I was a composer. Just because Deborah said I was a composer did not make it true, was my reasoning.
What is a composer? What did it mean to be a composer to me? How could Deborah say to me, "You are a composer"? My sense of a composer was based on all the classical music I knew, and the sense that composers were drawn to compose, composers knew they were composers (how?); composers composed a lot of music; it was in them.
And then yesterday, I was listening to the Christmas Medley I arranged last Fall in Hip Harp Toolkit, and, I heard the composerly element that Deborah heard in my arrangements; I wanted the music to be presented in a certain set way; to sound a certain way; to capture a feeling or emotion.
And now having read “Big Magic”, I have a better understanding of my NO's, and I am glad that I came around to saying OK, I‘ll try, to compose.
A Christmas Medley: An arrangement of The Snow Lay on the Ground, Coventry Carol and Infant Holy. I love the composed transition at 2:08 through 2:34. Twenty-six seconds that draw my attention, and deeply satisfy me.