Sometimes I imagine that my songwriting heroes are magical. Their words are brilliantly crafted. Their melodies take me to places I want to go, and they always seem to come up with interesting and moving things to write about. They shine light onto the ordinary and onto the truth, and they do it in a way that thrills me. And in my imagination, their creativity is something they can readily access.
Years ago, I had an unexpected gift of a backstage conversation with Billy Joel. We talked about songwriting. I remember thinking how amazing it was that I was having a chance to have a private conversation with him, so I just went for it. I told him about my struggle to access my songs, and I remember being shocked at how much he could relate to what I was saying. It surprised me that someone like him experienced the same struggle.
Last night, in the midst of a fabulous concert, Shawn Colvin said the same thing. Again, in my mind, she had found the vein, the way in, and could tap it, if not at will, then almost at will. I found out last night that she struggles with it too. I am sorry that she has to wrestle with accessing her songs, but it was a comfort to me. It made me know that it is normal. I learned that I am in good company.
Shawn is my second to Joni favorite songwriter, and I adore the work she has shared with the world. In fact, I have been so moved by her talent, that it has brought me to tears more than once, because she sets the bar so high. In the liner notes of her album Fat City, she wrote to Joni Mitchell, “me wimp, you master.” That is how I feel about her. Last night, her songwriting self became more human to me, and I realized that it is ok to struggle to access my songs. It is just part of the dance.
Songwriting is hard, except for when it’s not. There is no better feeling to me then when I am in the zone writing, when I have gotten to the place where the general shape of the song is there, and I know what the picture is that I am trying to paint. I love when it is coming together, and I know it will be a finished song, and I will like it. I allow those moments, or the absence of those moments, to have great power in my life. My relationship with songwriting deeply affects my emotions and my thoughts about myself. I am still learning this dance.
What do you dance with?
Years ago, I had an unexpected gift of a backstage conversation with Billy Joel. We talked about songwriting. I remember thinking how amazing it was that I was having a chance to have a private conversation with him, so I just went for it. I told him about my struggle to access my songs, and I remember being shocked at how much he could relate to what I was saying. It surprised me that someone like him experienced the same struggle.
Last night, in the midst of a fabulous concert, Shawn Colvin said the same thing. Again, in my mind, she had found the vein, the way in, and could tap it, if not at will, then almost at will. I found out last night that she struggles with it too. I am sorry that she has to wrestle with accessing her songs, but it was a comfort to me. It made me know that it is normal. I learned that I am in good company.
Shawn is my second to Joni favorite songwriter, and I adore the work she has shared with the world. In fact, I have been so moved by her talent, that it has brought me to tears more than once, because she sets the bar so high. In the liner notes of her album Fat City, she wrote to Joni Mitchell, “me wimp, you master.” That is how I feel about her. Last night, her songwriting self became more human to me, and I realized that it is ok to struggle to access my songs. It is just part of the dance.
Songwriting is hard, except for when it’s not. There is no better feeling to me then when I am in the zone writing, when I have gotten to the place where the general shape of the song is there, and I know what the picture is that I am trying to paint. I love when it is coming together, and I know it will be a finished song, and I will like it. I allow those moments, or the absence of those moments, to have great power in my life. My relationship with songwriting deeply affects my emotions and my thoughts about myself. I am still learning this dance.
What do you dance with?