Language of the Muse

Language of the Muse

My muse, a creature of lilting tongue and sinuous body, speaks to me in many ways.  The chief among them is through music.  Through song I send her my request which is based on emotion and tone, via the music I select. 

Currently my go to source for music is Spotify Internet Radio  where I can listen to just about any band I can think of, all or most of their albums and I don’t have to rely on it to pic “similar song and artists” like Pandora.   If I want to listen to Billy freakin Idol and nothing else for days and weeks at a time, I can do that. Though I only like 3 songs of his.  The only downside to Spotify is having to listen to 1 commercial every 20 minutes or so.  Not bad considering, and no they aren’t paying me for this.  On mobile you do have to pay for the playlists, and that’s really the only reason to have it.

Music does several things for me.  First and foremost, it allows me to created a wall between me and the world around me.  I have 3 kids between 4 and 14.  When you walk into my house it’s sorta like when Eddie Valiant goes back into Toon Town in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. 

The only way I can block that madness out is to put in my headphones and summon the muse.  I do this when I’m alone as well and it has to be head phones.  It’s like I’m pouring the music directly into my brain.  It washes over my soul as tribute to my pagan goddess; my Muse.  A door opens and she dances through it, undulating and slithering, part veiled dancer for the Sultan and part serpent.  She entrances me.  He beguiles me.  She beckons me into her arms.  We move with the spirit of the music and, through the melody, tone, lyrics and beat, I am transported.

I must cycle my music ever couple months though.  She constantly requires a new influx of great tunage.  I have to discover new bands or rediscover bands I had left behind long ago.

My muse is my own.  For others the muse may be contacted in other ways.  Sometimes I can be inspired by reading a really great novel or watching a surprisingly good movie (most movies and television shows are utter failures with me though some make the grade).  Just talking to other writers about their process, their stories, their ambitions, I often hear her jealous sigh and she begins to beckon me away with her, into the chilly night where I belong to her alone. 

The language of the muse is different for all of us but it is important for any creative, writer or other, to learn how to communicate with their muse.  Because the muse is fickle.  She comes and goes at will and cares not for our suffering.  Knowing how to contact her is one of the best cures for writer’s block that I know.  We’ve all been there.  We know we need to write but the ideas aren’t coming, we get stuck on some ridiculous part of the story that we know we should be able to get past or, worst of all for me, we simply lose the motivation and forward momentum. 

This is why I keep playlists by mood.  Most of the time, when I write its upbeat, rock or metal with some pop thrown in here and there.  Sometimes I need something emotionally colored for sad and emotionally charged parts.  Other times I need something even faster for fight and battle scenes.  And there are times that I need to pull out the song or album I was listening to when I first had the idea for the story. 

So here’s how I use music.

I need to be comfortable, usually in my recliner, my desk chair or sitting on my bed, almost always with my laptop in front of me.  Sometimes I will lay down if I’m really digging for something or really needing to open my mind wider. 

Next, I tilt my head back and close my eyes.  For some reason my face must be upturned.  I hate to say this but it’s almost like I’m praying but that’s really not what I’m doing.  I like to have my face toward the sky because in all my best childhood fantasies I was able to fly and that’s part of what I do. 

With my eyes closed I then allow the music to drift into me, to fill me and to stir emotions.  I’m going first for emotions.  The emotions will then work with the music to conjure images.  Maybe they have nothing to do with the story I’m working on, or I may be doing this because I have no story at all.  The purpose is to set my mind free. 

The first time I remember doing this was when I was listening to so a song by Kansas called

Magnum Opus (below).  There is a bit of a carnival sound going on in the middle of this thing but for the first half, I was transported to a battle field on a desolate alien world.  Two sides squaring off for battle as wind blew dust across a bone strewn land where countless thousands had lost their lives with violent ends.  I could see the villain and his army topping a mound of ashen earth, his red eyes glowing in the clouds of powdered bone kicked up by his armored footfalls.  I saw through his eyes as the hero and his men became visible on the field of ruin as the dust momentarily cleared.  I saw from above as they charged, their battle cries not unlike those of their slaughtered predecessors or the wraiths that even then stalked the battle ground ready to prey upon the newly dislodged souls of the fallen.

How do you contact your muse?  How do you summon the power to create and destroy worlds?  Every artist must learn this and I don’t think any of us will have created anything of worth if we hadn’t stumbled upon this at one time.  When you’re stuck or need motivation, retrace those steps.  What brought you to the key board the first time?  Maybe it was all pen and paper.  Go back to that, even if its just to free write and get the wheels turning.

Listening to lots of things. Right now: Filter: Hey Man Nice Shot  The urban legend is that this song was written about Kurt Cobain committing suicide.  It’s really about Budd Dwyer who committed suicide during a live press conference in 1987.  Though the connection to Cobain probably added to the popularity of the song (Filter never did anything else worth spitting on), the song is a true masterpiece of dark industrial rock that still maintains its musical relevance 13 years later.  The baseline alone is enough to get my Muse humping my leg like a puppy on Viagra.