The creative process is a process of surrender, not control.
~ Julia Cameron
It had become my story and I was getting in the way of the telling. Or rather, perhaps I was telling the story, without first really listening to it, living it, breathing it, desiring it, imagining it, seeing it, and making it my own.
Either way, something had to give. And what better way for that to occur than by letting go ~ surrendering? I had to stop seeing this song from the outside. I had to see this as someone's story ~ not just words or notes on a page, but a life, a heart, a soul. I had to smell the mix of blood and gunpowder, snow and soil; hear the sound of the North wind and feel the icy sting of snow-encrusted branches. I had to become my character and experience the pain, confusion, hope and fear and longing that she was experiencing.
So I did. I relaxed my whole being and dreamed about what was happening around me. Touched the last leaf of autumn and saw my own icy breath in the clear air of winter. Walked through a forest lost in snow's embrace and climbed a mountain to survey the ruins of a castle.
Now Song One of the trilogy is almost complete. I am hoping and praying that Sullivan can "hear" the last two lines of the last stanza ~ for the end of this chapter is all that eludes me.
Speaking of, Sullivan graciously mentioned our project on his blog, which gives a better picture of its conception. I must say, it has been a breathtaking adventure to partner with someone who is (almost) a male version of me. :-) Sullivan combines both a scholarly knowledge of languages and words and a melancholic creative side. He is also much more left-brained than I, which an artist definitely needs to be at times, and which I am almost never!
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam!
Oremus pro invicem,