I had a dream the other night that I was playing the piano while I waited with some other people for an event to begin. At first I played something written by someone else, then I played one of my own original pieces. When I finished I walked over to the other people and told them that was my tune. They said things like "That's nice," but not, "Wow, really, you wrote that?" like I expected and wanted them to.
So I laid into them, shouting about how I wrote that song, me, I did, that's mine! etc.

When I woke up I thought about the idea that all the people in my dreams are really people inside me, parts of me. What did the dream mean in that context? That some parts of me are not impressed with the fact that I wrote these songs and play them on the piano, and other parts of me are angry about that?

Exactly. I used to play my piano every day, usually in the evening, for an hour or so, a mix of others' tunes and my own. But for too long now I haven't been playing. And at least part of the reason, if not the only one, is that I'm disappointed in myself about the "old" songs and that I haven't written any new ones, anything more interesting, more advanced, more unusual.

Wow. What a discovery.

And just how, Maggie, do you expect to write any new songs if you don't play the piano? Or write, for that matter, which is how we got started on this music writing adventure. The first piece we wrote we were nowhere near the piano, but sitting at the computer in the middle of a scene of a book, imagining the words and the tune, writing little dots on a piece of paper for notes indicating higher and lower.

Cheri Huber, the Zen teacher says, "The healing can't start until the beatings stop."

How is my creative musician supposed to come out when he hears that some of us in here don't think too much of the tunes he wrote before? Not very encouraging—not hardly. How can I expect people out side of me to support and encourage me if I don't?

We have a saying around here—bad art is better than good art. What that means to us is that any art a person creates for him or herself is better than any art he or she obtains made by someone else, though of course, not necessarily bad. Anything we make from a need to create, from within our selves, our souls and spirits, is one of the greatest things we can do for ourselves.

Making art is a gift, a way to learn about ourselves, a way to see what's inside us that we may not see any other way, may not be able to bring out any other way.

Making art is a way to release parts inside us that have long been buried, lost, locked deep inside, the child who used to or never got to or needs to play and make messes, splatter paint or clay or play dough or glue and paper and scraps all over the table or the room.
Making art is a way to have conversation with those inside us. It is a path to understanding and healing ourselves. Making art is a path to joy and fulfillment.


Making any art at all is a start on a path of magical exploration. And anything we create on that path is sacred. Perhaps the things we create on this path must be kept private--for a long time, or forever. Or maybe we will need to share these things we create, show them to those we trust and care about, to introduce these other, hidden parts of ourselves to the world.


One of the most important aspects of making our own art is respect. We must each honor those parts of ourselves that need to make art and respect the art they do make.
We are each unique. There is no one nor has there ever been another person like each of us. Each of us has unique gifts, a unique combination of characteristics and attributes, and each of us has within us a unique contribution to make to the world. No one can ever make the art that we each can make, and so, there is no way to compare the art that we make with the art that someone else makes.

Yes, I may make baskets or embroidery or quilt patches as many other people do, but my baskets and embroidery and quilt patches are mine alone, not like anything any one else can make. Even if I copy exactly what someone else has already made, what I make is still mine, still an expression of my self.

Some arts we need to take lessons to learn, and copying existing art is a great way to do that. And sometimes copying is exactly what we need to do. Making a kit or using a pattern can be fulfilling in its own special way. If a picture or design that someone else created speaks to us and the working of it allows someone inside of us to speak, to feel, to enjoy, so be it!


But let us never forget that we are all artists, in our own unique ways. And let no one, especially not our own selves, take that gift away from us. We each deserve respect and the right to create anything our hearts desire. Take brush or pencil or clay or fabric in hand and let go, let fly your imagination, your spirit, and see what happens. Keep it to yourself if you need to, but always, always, honor that one inside you who made this art, who speaks to you in this way, and honor the art you and that one made together.


August 10, 2006
© copyright Maggie Wilson