The Festival of lights is here! Although, as mentioned by a friend, I wonder if it should really be called the Festival of sounds. Surprising that I enjoyed the 'sound' as much I detest it about 18 years back, when I last lit crackers. Let's not get into how old I'm now. Psst. That should be off record.
Well, I must apologise to myself for my shameless irregularity with blogging. Like I probably made a mention earlier, I'm writing too much stuff that I find it an easy excuse to give myself whenever I feel guilty of not having written in a while. But blogs, it seems, have their own effects. For me, I can read and see the evolution with writing style, language and temperament since I started blogging. Few unfortunate ones like the Air France - KLM chief got reprimanded severely and that Shah guy from Gujarat was lauded and the article went viral; and the other ones that didn't go viral (because I didn't get to read them) and yet had their repercussions on poor innocent folk like me who simply like to be fair and state facts. Remember the SRK blog anyone? Oh, rather, know about it, anyone?
Well, I know already that this is going to be a short blog. I hate it, but I didn't even give a thought of what to write about. I could write about the band's progress, but I really get cautious then to not make it sound narcissistic and convinced, I give up. With women safety, I can only hang my head in shame that such brutality exists. What's more, I shudder at the thought that if the number of reported cases are so many, what is the actual number of cases!
It happened when I read A thousand splendid suns by Hosseni. Reading, I've always believed is more effective than seeing a movie, because you aren't forced by the director (of the book) to imagine a particular face. Each character, though vividly described, would definitely create a certain image in the mind of the reader. It might eventually turn out to be the same for both you and me, but it happens at its own pace. That intrigue definitely adds on to more pages of the novel, a feat that movie directors achieve in 12 - 15 seconds.
Anyways, my point is that reading shakes me up. I remember the urge to hold myself from typing away furiously a review of the Shiva trilogy the moment I completed it. Man, I was really so excited that the 3rd book was one of the fastest I've ever read. Holding back took too much effort, and I'm happy I've not made a fool of myself then. Its a possibility now anyway :).
So, with the mind thinking what to write about, and the fingers running a tad faster - courtesy the other part of the brain, it suddenly occurred that -
How difficult is a creative process?
I'll talk for myself. I don't believe that I'm an awesomely talented creative guy, though I can make song tunes pretty quick and while singing, think of the orchestration going behind, and also how it can actually be done live. I'm scared, perhaps. Scared not about experimentation. Not even about how it would turn out to be. But mostly because what do I do after this song. Writing is probably a little more stronger now, because as I imagine, though my blogs might be repetitive, I have been able to get it going for a few years now. I think its safe to assume that its one of my stronger abilities to weave stories or sometimes write plain bull crap. But hey, I can still write.
Now, with music, I know for a fact and I'm smiling as I write this, as if both sides of my brain worked completely independent with each other, I can't just make a song for the heck of it, like I write, probably like this blog right here. And to a fair extent I'd know probably 50% of the times if its a good tune or a bad tune. Ever since I've been analysing music on my own and discussing it, I've always paid attention to how the arrangement has been. I get into a mode thinking how something that is called background music works so hard to embellish a tune, and is called background music. If it had life, I'm sure it would just want to sometimes spank your rear hard and disappear, making you listen to the 'tune' alone. Boy, that would be bland as, as.. well, just bland!
Now, the fright. Drawing heavy inspiration from Mr. Jobs who said "Live each day like its your last", I truly believe in it and apply it slightly differently. Treat each creative process like its your last. That's when you'll be able to squeeze out your entire potency. Ask me my best work 2 years later and what I have done today is always, always laughable. I hope it doesn't incite stomach churning laughter further on, but generally, it is pure chagrin. My own. Meted out by my work.
Each time I set out to create something, sometimes like a blog out of impulse, or a much thought about song, it feels like I've done something that I've never done before and at the end of it there is satisfaction. Sometimes accompanied by tears (Note - only for music). But a few days later, it starts creeping in. How to better what was already my best? The answer lies in a very small four lettered word. Again, if it had life, it would sit and laugh at our follies, at our taking-life-too-seriously attitude. The same word that I believe in more than God.
T-I-M-E.
Well, I must apologise to myself for my shameless irregularity with blogging. Like I probably made a mention earlier, I'm writing too much stuff that I find it an easy excuse to give myself whenever I feel guilty of not having written in a while. But blogs, it seems, have their own effects. For me, I can read and see the evolution with writing style, language and temperament since I started blogging. Few unfortunate ones like the Air France - KLM chief got reprimanded severely and that Shah guy from Gujarat was lauded and the article went viral; and the other ones that didn't go viral (because I didn't get to read them) and yet had their repercussions on poor innocent folk like me who simply like to be fair and state facts. Remember the SRK blog anyone? Oh, rather, know about it, anyone?
Well, I know already that this is going to be a short blog. I hate it, but I didn't even give a thought of what to write about. I could write about the band's progress, but I really get cautious then to not make it sound narcissistic and convinced, I give up. With women safety, I can only hang my head in shame that such brutality exists. What's more, I shudder at the thought that if the number of reported cases are so many, what is the actual number of cases!
It happened when I read A thousand splendid suns by Hosseni. Reading, I've always believed is more effective than seeing a movie, because you aren't forced by the director (of the book) to imagine a particular face. Each character, though vividly described, would definitely create a certain image in the mind of the reader. It might eventually turn out to be the same for both you and me, but it happens at its own pace. That intrigue definitely adds on to more pages of the novel, a feat that movie directors achieve in 12 - 15 seconds.
Anyways, my point is that reading shakes me up. I remember the urge to hold myself from typing away furiously a review of the Shiva trilogy the moment I completed it. Man, I was really so excited that the 3rd book was one of the fastest I've ever read. Holding back took too much effort, and I'm happy I've not made a fool of myself then. Its a possibility now anyway :).
So, with the mind thinking what to write about, and the fingers running a tad faster - courtesy the other part of the brain, it suddenly occurred that -
How difficult is a creative process?
I'll talk for myself. I don't believe that I'm an awesomely talented creative guy, though I can make song tunes pretty quick and while singing, think of the orchestration going behind, and also how it can actually be done live. I'm scared, perhaps. Scared not about experimentation. Not even about how it would turn out to be. But mostly because what do I do after this song. Writing is probably a little more stronger now, because as I imagine, though my blogs might be repetitive, I have been able to get it going for a few years now. I think its safe to assume that its one of my stronger abilities to weave stories or sometimes write plain bull crap. But hey, I can still write.
Now, with music, I know for a fact and I'm smiling as I write this, as if both sides of my brain worked completely independent with each other, I can't just make a song for the heck of it, like I write, probably like this blog right here. And to a fair extent I'd know probably 50% of the times if its a good tune or a bad tune. Ever since I've been analysing music on my own and discussing it, I've always paid attention to how the arrangement has been. I get into a mode thinking how something that is called background music works so hard to embellish a tune, and is called background music. If it had life, I'm sure it would just want to sometimes spank your rear hard and disappear, making you listen to the 'tune' alone. Boy, that would be bland as, as.. well, just bland!
Now, the fright. Drawing heavy inspiration from Mr. Jobs who said "Live each day like its your last", I truly believe in it and apply it slightly differently. Treat each creative process like its your last. That's when you'll be able to squeeze out your entire potency. Ask me my best work 2 years later and what I have done today is always, always laughable. I hope it doesn't incite stomach churning laughter further on, but generally, it is pure chagrin. My own. Meted out by my work.
Each time I set out to create something, sometimes like a blog out of impulse, or a much thought about song, it feels like I've done something that I've never done before and at the end of it there is satisfaction. Sometimes accompanied by tears (Note - only for music). But a few days later, it starts creeping in. How to better what was already my best? The answer lies in a very small four lettered word. Again, if it had life, it would sit and laugh at our follies, at our taking-life-too-seriously attitude. The same word that I believe in more than God.
T-I-M-E.
