The Four Seasons of Writing
Whenever I think of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, “Spring” immediately comes to mind. I don’t even know if it’s because my mind has selected that piece as the default reference or if society has drilled those opening sounds into my brain through movies, TV shows and advertisements. The triumphant and lively opening of this masterpiece had always put a smile on my face until I started watching horror movies where the “villain” ends up being a sadistic individual who musicalizes the crimes with classical compositions.
Despite the different shapes that Vivaldi’s production can take depending on the context, I have always chosen Winter II: Largo, the shortest and, probably, the least known movement of the concert. The rhythmic sound that emulates the fall of raindrops reminds me of the ticking of a clock, filling me with nostalgia, while the uprising melody perfectly depicts the comforting dance of the fire in a cosy living room more than 200 years ago.
“Despite the locked and bolted doors… / this is winter, which nonetheless / brings its own delights”, wrote Vivaldi in the sonnet that refers to this particular season. And that’s exactly what I like to remember when I’m going through an inspiration drought, a creative winter. During those times when I cannot find words or ideas, I like to remind myself that there is a warm, intimate and lively fire within me.
As a way to connect with that inner flame, I normally go out for a walk. I avoid listening to music in order to become more actively aware of what happens on my way to the park. If there’s a couple in front of me speaking, I try, not to listen to their words, but to listen to their accent, to notice if both of them are interested in the conversation or not. If birds are chirping, I will try to find them, so, visually, I can put a face to the sound. I try to perceive the background sounds that many times are overshadowed by horns, sirens and airplanes flying. The reason why this works for me is because it relaxes me and provides my thoughts with a safe place to pop up and thrive.
Once I’m in the park, I’ll listen to music (or not) and sit down dictating my thoughts to my phone. Random ideas, not necessarily connected, but honest in spirit. After I’ve poured all my thoughts into my tiny smart gadget, I go back home and prepare to write. Vivaldi’s “Spring” or “Summer” will play in the back of my mind while I go through my notes and take the most interesting, fertile one and start writing.
Many times I’ve heard writers say that there’s no better thing to do for writing than writing. This means that, even if we’re not feeling inspired, it’s important to keep trying, creating and working on ideas. The way in which inspiration arrives is, usually, not through a romantic, surprising and almost epiphanic revelation, but through diligent, honest and resilient work.
I wish that I had a particular piece of advice to share with you, but I guess the best thing that we both can have is the sense of accompanying each other in these mental blocks that we find along the way. In the end, every season has its own pleasures and lessons, so let’s enjoy the ride together.
Remember that “The Four Seasons” wouldn’t be the masterpiece it is without Autumn or Winter.
