I’m a dirty, two-timing swine. There, I said it! And, yeah, I know what you’re thinking now, too. How can I live with myself?
Well, the truth is, it just sort of happened. I didn’t set out to fall in love with two muses. But that’s exactly what has taken place. On the one hand, I have a love for words and writing. While on the other, I’m just as passionate about being a musician. Oh, God, I feel so torn!
You see, I can’t ever indulge one of my loves without feeling I’m cheating on the other. I don’t think being a Gemini helps, either. Because, ultimately, I want to be true to both my muses at the same time, but the physical reality is that there is only one of me. Not two, damn it.
Even as I’m writing this, I’m suffering from the guilt of knowing I’m neglecting my guitar playing. And yet earlier today, when I was struggling to learn the fingerpicked guitar part to Radiohead’s Street Spirit all I could think about was writing today’s blog. Aargh!
And you know what? That’s the problem right there. The fact that I was struggling with what’s really a pretty simple bit of finger work. Now, believe me, I’m not disrespecting Radiohead’s musicianship, far from it, I’m just saying I have mastered much harder pieces five minutes before having to play them at some stranger’s wedding.
(FYI I’m talking about what’s often required of me as a guitarist in a covers band, at this point).
Anyway, lately, I’ve been going really hard on my writing again, including trying to keep up this blog for instance. The only trouble is my guitar playing has dropped off as a direct consequence. I can’t please both of my muses at once, you understand. And it’s driving me crazy, because I love them equally.
You’re probably inclined to think that I should just shut up and choose between the two. But I can’t. If I stay too long away from either passion I get totally depressed. I need them both for different reasons. The power of words and the associated act of writing, more generally, fires my imagination, while playing music stirs my soul.
So, look, there’s this Sufi proverb, I know of, which I like to think perfectly sums up the predicament I’m faced with, which says that, “the imagination is the seat of the soul”. Meaning that the two are totally interconnected.
Suffice to say, then, that I can’t bear to think of living without either one of my muses for longer than a day or two.
Although I only wish they’d kick in occasionally and help pay a greater share of the rent, every so often. Just sayin’…