Tudo que você podia ser – Everything that you wanted be
// October 9th, 2009 // 1 Comment » // 1970s, Brazil, South America
Com sol e chuva você sonhava
With sun and rain you were dreaming
As I sit to write these words I no longer feel afraid of what they will become. At the very least I know that something will come.
At last, something is.
The act of human creation is a miracle in itself. In every sense: every act of invention, every work of art, every idea – from silly to smart, every store-cupboard meal thrown together at the last minute, every plan – hatched – and tossed away. This, when I look at it with fresh eyes, gives me a sort of reverence for it. One could almost say it has a certain Godliness. We are more or less the only thing in the known universe (bar some of our hairier relatives) that can do this. From a scribble on a tablecloth during a boring meal, to a masterwork on some slightly more interesting chapel ceiling – we make new things that have never existed before. We bring them into reality using some jelly-like organ on the top of a stick and some helping hands to follow the orders.
Forgive the gross oversimplification. I hope you get the point, but what I want to get into is something else. Why is this act so fleeting? Why is it sometimes we stop ourselves from doing it? Even when we can.
Que ia ser melhor depois
What would be better next
I wrestled with this problem for many years. Some years ago there was a sudden realisation that I was a ‘creative’ person. I could cobble my words together with a little panache, music production and songwriting inspired me, filmmaking and editing seemed to come quite naturally. I worked at improving myself while at the same time enjoying them, and I got better and better.
The act of creation – in an artistic sense at least – has the idea of ‘audience’ tied in with it. So after some time of writing songs, I’d had enough of playing them in my bedroom. I needed to ‘give birth’ so to speak. Why write a song without someone to hear it? Where does the song go when you’ve finished it? Do you just crudely scrawl it down in a notebook and put it away for posterity’s sake – buried in the back garden in a tin can with the Rubick’s cube and your VHS video collection? Well my answer was a resounding “NO!”. Of course not. That would be crazy. “I demand to be listened to!”
In the early stages of developing oneself in an area that has some degree of self-expression, your relationship with the audience is a strange, delicate one that twists around like a snake in the grass. On one hand, you want your audience to hear you. On the other, some of them may not want to. You have to accept that even though you’ve poured your heart and soul into something it may either be reacted to with the desired effect, loathing – or maybe worse – indifference. Creators often feel attachment to their creations. It takes practice to accept that the reaction may not always be what is desired.
Mas não importa não faz mal
But it’s not important, it doesn’t matter
“You didn’t like it?” Our rational side may say one thing: “You wouldn’t know Beethoven from Jive Bunny you blithering idiot!”, “You’re all a bunch of philistines, except you – you clapped even when the others were falling asleep into their beers”, “Well maybe I should pack it in after all, they must be right”. At the two ends of the scale, either the song’s good, or it isn’t. So if they like it, you’re happy – or at least it’s your mum trying to make you feel good. If they don’t, either the song’s good or bad. If it’s good, then they’re just philistines, if it’s bad – start getting better any way you can.
The problems start when this rationalisation gets pushed aside by some more basic part of us – call it ego if you will. This part that wants to be loved, adored or just accepted by the many. Our attachments to our creations can be integrally linked to the aformentioned part of the psyche.
So what’s the point in writing and playing when the people don’t want to hear you?
…A valid point.
This threw me off track for some years and it would fly round my mind when I picked up the guitar. I’d sit there for the briefest of moments before I’d have this feeling of something approaching disgust. Then I’d throw the instrument down and go back to whatever other uncreative thing I was doing. Nose-picking, bottom-scratching – you know, I spent all the time relieving itchiness all over my body.
Só pensa agora em voltar
Just think back now
Some years passed. During which, occassionally at a concert I would have some emotional stirrings – a yearning, a saudade – this was often followed by guilt for no longer following this passion. I ignored these cues and carried on, for four years, without touching a string. I had successfully managed to strangle something that was mine that had been rejected by others.
By chance, and without expectation, I brought my guitar to Spain, where I had been living for some time – and was about to spend a scorching hot summer. I picked the instrument up at a few parties, and realised that I’d changed a little. My voice had become richer and deeper than it was before. I guess I could say I was better. But more – I was enjoying playing the music and I knew I was getting good at making it. The reactions were better, but less important because I knew when I was good – at least when not on the windy side of sober. I felt more in tune with the instrument. I started taking it to the park and writing. The songs were coming back to me. Or at least the ideas. The creativity had woken up, not just with the music, but in general. More ideas were flowing towards me, like vivid autumn leaves falling into the relatively still waters of my consciousness.
The important things I have learnt from this experience are thus:
- Take some time to really master what your chosen creative output might be. If you do it well, you’ll know it – and it won’t matter what anyone says – because you’ll be your own authority.
- Love what you’re doing with a passion. If you don’t, you might want to think about something else. Or at least learn a little more – as that love can also be fleeting if you are not a master of your chosen skill. If you cannot propagate it after some learning, which may help, look elsewhere.
- Don’t approach the act of creation with the quality of the end ‘product’ in mind. Critical thinking too early on in the process can throw water on those creative hot coals. Treat your idea like a germinating seed. Care for it, as it is delicate and the leaves may fall off at any minute. I guess you know what happens after that.
Tudo que você podia ser na estrada
Everything you could be on the road
You could be a rock star with more groupies to hand than healthy blood cells pumping through your heart. You could be a famous dead painter. You could be anything. You could be nothing. As long as you’re doing something that you love, then at least you’re enjoying your time here amongst us monkeys. Do what you love for yourself. Maybe the fame or recognition will come, maybe it’ll pass you by like a monster cruise ship narrowly missing the piece of brittle ice under your feet. It shouldn’t matter. Find your passion and follow where your heart leads you.
Milton Nascimento wrote this in 1972 with Lo Borges. It’s taken from the equally enchanting ‘Clube da Esquina‘ album. The disc has a 4.23 rating on the Rateyourmusic.com website, which ranks it, quite democratically #151 from everything. That’s good.
Com sol e chuva você sonhava
With sun and rain you were dreamingQue ia ser melhor depois
What would be better nextVocê queria ser o grande herói das estradas
You wanted to be the big hero of the roadsTudo que você queria ser
Everything you wanted to beSei um segredo você tem medo
I know a secret you are afraidSó pensa agora em voltar
Just think back nowNão fala mais na bota e do anel de Zapata
No longer speaks in the boot and Zapata’s ringTudo que você devia ser sem medo
All you had to be fearlessE não se lembra mais de mim
And not if you remember me any moreVocê não quis deixar que eu falasse de tudo
You didn’t want to let me talk about anythingTudo que você podia ser na estrada
Everything you wanted to be on the roadAh! Sol e chuva na sua estrada
Ah Sun and rain on your roadMas não importa não faz mal
But it’s not important, it doesn’t matterVocê ainda pensa e é melhor do que nada
You still think and it is better than nothingTudo que você consegue ser ou nada
All you can be or anything
