close to music, not quite close enough
by ari
close to music, not quite close enough
in creativity there lies complicated whisperings, like the magic faraway tree in one of those books you read as a kid. some of these whisperings bring us to create as soon as we feel the need; others are softer and tell us not to worry about when.
it was another gig, another day at one point in my life. just the norm to go to a gig, listen, drink (on the band’s bar tab) and hope to be validated by a string of talented and sometimes narcissistic musicians. at every gig, i felt perfectly satisfied accompanying and encouraging. appreciating what they do. and this is what happens with girls like me. we want to be as close to the music as possible, and having relationships with people who contribute with their art brings us a temporary euphoria.
it never occurred to me to create, or even that i might be creating, or that my writing about music was worth batting an eyelid at. now i realise that anything i create doesn’t need attention like i did at those gigs. even writing music with my love, who is ironically a musician, doesn’t give me temporary euphoria. it gives me a permanent sense of satisfaction.
maybe those whisperings needed some help from those headband-clad musicians to nudge me in the direction of creation. i don’t regret any of those days of being a groupie, because that word means something positive to me. someone who has seen and felt exhilarating things that only i could have experienced. i have so many stories that i wrote in my diary, and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, that is art in itself.
now i can say that i’m both the musician and the muse.
