Wanting Great, Getting Good

Each time I write a song, I want it to be better than the last one.

I imagine my growing body of work as being a steadily improving thing...a smooth ascending hill. But in fact, it's more like the jagged line that illustrates an investment in the stock market. One day it's up, the next it's down...but gradually, over time, the investment's value increases in a series of peaks and valleys. (And isn't artistic practice a lifelong investment?)

Each time that little line dips, I feel queasy. I'm disappointed when a new song doesn't "pay off" the way I want it to. Why didn't it? Was it the idea, the execution, the presentation? It seemed pretty good when I was writing it... Why isn't it lifting off? There's a note of fear there.

Although some analysis is useful, it's important for me to stop judging and let go. Simply let the work be--present it, let it breathe, and let it go--and know that it's serving its purpose in the bigger picture of my creative life. Trust the mystery.

I'll probably always want "great". Through that stretching, I'm developing as an artist. Many times, despite my best efforts, I'll just get "good". Although it seems like a disappointment at the time, it leaves room for growth, and reminds me to practice the art of self-acceptance.

I Don't Like Middles

This morning as I was working on a new song, I had the familiar urge to quit. It came at the usual point: after the initial excitement had waned, but before I could tell the song would be successfully completed.

It's always the middle period that's hard. Much like the middle of the day, too, I realize...as the clock says 2:56 and I'm tempted to stop writing now and go have a nap. Not to mention the middle of life, the middle of career...no wonder middles lead to crises.

Anyway, in this particular middle, I almost gave up on the song altogether. The song just didn't seem worth the effort. I saw it as unnecessarily complicated, challenging and serious. Oh, and the melody was terrible. These seemed to be perfectly valid concerns. Facts, even! So...

I ignored them and kept writing anyway.

There's a part of me that mistrusts the middle. It imagines that the creative process should be inspiration followed immediately by satisfaction. All magic, all joy, all the time! I avoid the middle at the beginning ("This song idea is brilliant! It will write itself!) , the middle ("This is too difficult. The song must be bad") and the end ("It was fun and easy to write such a great song!").

This time, I kept working during the middle, even though I wasn't enjoying myself and I didn't believe I was necessarily doing anything of value. I simply showed up and stayed put. To my surprise, only a few minutes later I saw that the song was nearly finished...and it was good!

It was good in the middle too. It was just not yet what I wanted it to become. It was still unformed...somewhat muddled...in the middle.

(Side note: did J.K. Rowling pull that brilliant name for humans, 'Muggles', out of a hat or what?!)