Friday, July 29, 2011
I miss E Minor.
I used to spend hours alone in my bath in the pitch black. Glass of wine, music reverberating off the tiles. Now I steal a moment to scratch these lines between the six week old's meltdowns. Happy to be a mother, content to be a wife to a worthy husband, glad not to be poor and barely surviving... yet, it is a paradox that I am so nostalgic for a time in my life I wouldn't want to relive. I was so brilliant at being despondent. My melancholy drove my creativity. Poems, songs, artwork flowed effortlessly when I had the dark shadow of misery always underfoot. Now, I cannot find inspiration in my contentment. I have tried to place myself in that dark place to borrow inspiration from former times. But, to revisit old loves long released feels akin to cheating. How can I write a song about a former flame without giving myself over to the old burn? I am too old to feel remorse over those long gone relationships - they hold no sway when compared to my peaceful, loving, mature relationship. The unhealthiness and drama I once craved is unpleasant even to contemplate - yet, how else am I to mine my life for material. I am untempted by the Byronic Ideal that formerly haunted my every waking moment. But, my music style is suited to melancholy - I cannot write of happiness. It feels ridiculous to say that I am depressed that I am no longer depressed. It sounds ungrateful to say how I wish I could find inspiration again. There is no lofty ambition that I want to achieve with my arts - I deplore fame and its trappings. I just miss creating for creation's sake. I miss E minor.
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It's awesome that you are content! You know, I think a creative hiatus is completely normal for new mothers. I go through a period of non- creativity with every baby. All my juices are flowing in another direction!
ReplyDeleteI love you!!! I feel in life, most times, that when I am aching for something creative to come to me, that I must sit aside and wait for it to come on it's own. A lot like waiting for that great love that you feel you may never find, then you have it and you wonder why you were so impatient to begin with. You are but a shimmer of the talent I wish I had. We are so much the same but in the ways we are not, you shine like a star!!!! It will come back momma, I promise. Relish on being a mommy to my niece and a wife to my brother-in-law, for both are such precious gifts to your intoxicating ambiance. You, Sarah my fairest, are amazing to me!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Amanda and Sissy! I appreciate your thoughts and encouragement. Love!
ReplyDeleteI can relate to the sweet attraction of melancholia. I have often happily wallowed in that state and still find it incredibly seductive. When I was in London in February, I took a trip up to Hampton Court by myself. In between the history and the architecture, with the fog and the mist that were all around, I was in a gothic mood that I found perfectly delightful. (Of course it helped that I was wearing a fabulous black cape.) But even though as a teenager I spent many an hour curled up at the window, contemplating dark romance, these days, having seen the end result of too much of the noir, my eye is trained to beauty in a much different way. Like you, I now find I crave my flowers blooming, instead of dried.
ReplyDeleteSo happy that you're blogging now. I'll visit often, I know.