The Drought

There is something of a spiritual drought plaguing everyone I know. Creative outlets are blocked, aspirations are “temporarily” deferred, piquancy is stifled, and every ambrosia of the soul is carefully sealed in a jar and shelved for “later” use... all in the name of Necessity. Survival dominates our thoughts and schedules, the bills stack up, and we are thirsty for more. We need more.

I’ve been immersed in and saturated by art here in Wisconsin. I’ve been sitting in on classes, lectures, and even parties. As I said earlier, there are many parallels to my world of music (including the dogmatic rivalry of conceited “purists”). Hanging out with one of the top ten portrait artists in the nation has me reminiscing about music festivals and composers around the world.

I do also feel like a bit of a fifth wheel. It’s wonderful to be surrounded by culture for a change, but… damn. I’m ensconced in art and deprived of music.

Well, perhaps not totally deprived. In the background, I’ve been exposed to a lot of 19th-century music that I recognize but can’t name. It’s making me feel frustrated and insecure. Everyone looks to me like some sort of expert in all things musical because I have a Master’s Degree, but I haven’t really been able to keep up with that. What am I?

My creative juices are boiling. All of our souls are screaming to be let out of their cages. We need a nurturing environment of peers. We need it for feedback, perspective, mutual inspiration, and of course pooling our resources to get things done.

I’d like to recruit everyone to the same city and start a composers’ forum, a New Music Ensemble, a League of Extraordinary Musicians, an independent film studio with the Captain. A composition studio with all the latest high-end hardware and sample libraries.

I guess we have to create that nurturing environment ourselves. But how? This isn’t exactly a new conundrum! Ever since finishing grad school it’s been a downward spiral. The economic crash didn’t help, because everyone had to hit the “pause” button on their fulfillment in life. Expedience reigned supreme. So what’s next? Where’s the oasis? Where’s the life-giving rain? Will this “drought” emaciate us all until we are but husks of our original creative spirits?

I'm working on a way out. I'll mount a rescue mission. I just don't know how yet. I’m sorry, but for now it looks like commiseration is the best I can offer you.