Sticks And Pens: Writing Vs Playing Music.
Between them, writing and music fill me with love and dread.
Drumsticks and pens are the original magic wands, used to shape reality like architecture, by defining the meaning of the spaces where our experience meets with objects in the world, causing feelings and ideas.
Playing music and writing a novel both take me into other worlds or dimensions, but in different ways. I am deeply grateful for being able to do both, but long term one is healthier than and preferable to the other, at least for me personally. Here’s why.
During the writing of a novel like ‘The Songtree: A Windrush Tale’, the writer must dwell in the world of the work, you have to put yourself outside of the ‘normal’ or ‘real’ world to become the author of a new and different one. That level of immersion can be joyful or painful, depending on what is unfolding in the story at the time. It can cause problems too: returning to this world from a six-hour deep dive into a different dimension requires a decompression chamber of sorts.
Writing is the cheapest art form going: A pencil and sheet of paper will do at a push, that’s less than a quid to start up, not too steep.
And writing is the most expensive art form I know: Over the course of 10 years writing ‘The Songtree’ it cost me a lot socially and personally. A price worth paying? It’s a jealous lover who wants as much time as it can get and who doesn’t really care what happens to the writer as long as it gets the attention it requires.
Aside from writing being anti-social and isolating, I also find it physically unhealthy: Too much sitting, smoking and forgetting to eat. The novel had to be written, it insisted, but all things considered, I’m glad to be done with it now.
Music is the opposite. It is social, unifying and keeps you fit. Playing drums is a real work out for mind and body, and with my body in motion like that I forget to smoke.
Composition is usually solitary, working out ideas on the piano or vibes or melodica. But that quickly turns to co-work, which is where most of the time is spent: exploring, practicing, rehearsing, recording.
Music has never cost me anyone, but it’s gained me a lot of positive human connections along the way with fellow musicians from all over the world. While writing shuts the door on others, music, the drum especially, is a magnet that draws people to itself; people can’t help gravitating towards it.
Finally, a passage of written words can only mean one thing, at most two or three, while a passage of music has infinite possible meanings according to the listener’s state of mind at the time. It transcends earthly limitations (of meaning) in ways written words cannot. It can be seen as divine therefore.
Sticks and pens are tools that transform ourselves and our worlds. Magic wands. Writing can be more direct; with music it’s more about the experience. I’ve been aware of this every step of the way, but there’s something about writing that is so satisfying when you get a sentence just right, a paragraph, a flow of ideas.
Every meaningful statement in words or music is affirmation of our ability to construct a reality that resonates with finite meaning, instead of the infinite void of meaning that the universe would otherwise be. That’s why I had to complete the novel. I am very glad I did, the pen is amazing, but from now on it’s sticks all the way for me.
For decades I’ve kept music as my mistress, knowing how fickle she can be and how financially precarious. But now I am ready to commit. ‘The Songtree: A Windrush Tale’ is an important novel and a huge achievement for me personally to complete it. It was ten times harder and took five times longer than my Doctoral thesis. I’ll take a life playing music as a reward any day.
For more on all topics to do with Abracadia and its work, don’t forget to check Abracadia’s weekly spoken word offering at the ‘Bit Of Soul Podcast’. Come and say hi, pass by for a try. Be great to see you there. Just roll up anytime to listen, chill and reason at the lush and refreshing oasis that is Abracadia.
Until such time - In Ubuntu
Remi