July 27, 2011
On Emptiness, Part Five: Freedom
The best part about my cello playing right now is the absolute freedom of my approach. For months I’ve been totally absorbed in beautiful, easy folk songs. Unable to make myself play anything else, I revel in the relaxation and emotional fulfillment of these haunting melodies. Feeling no pressure to work on harder music, I’m released from all expectation.
This has transferred to my writing. Practice writing has never been more enjoyable because, having discovered such beauty in my musical life, I know I’ll find it in writing too. In practice writing I wait for it while pouring out the words, in the same way I open myself to good tone while pouring out the notes. I expect nothing, and in this freedom, I often get much more than I would have if I’d been trying for it.
Music of Writing 
bruce Atchison - author said,
July 27, 2011 at 7:51 am
I remember all those dreadful piano lessons Mrs. McMonster, as we nicknamed her, taught me. One wrong note and I had to start the piece all over. Likewise, English class was a drag because my teacher hated it when I wrote anything to do with Christianity. Thanks to my disability pension, I can write without having to have it rejected by somebody in authority over me. The freedom to write what inspires me, rather than what some boss wants, adds to the pleasure of the creative process.
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Rebecca Hein said,
August 5, 2011 at 1:50 pm
There’s no better way to nurture our creativity than to give it free rein. And the most effective way to kill it is to regiment our approach.
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