My frustration of the evening is writer's block. In addition to prose and the occasional play and poem, I compose music. I don't have the technical experience, theoretical grounding, or expensive software that most people who compose music have, and I can't play any musical instrument particularly well, although I have a synthesizer keyboard that's missing me while it sits in storage in Seattle.
No, what I have is a copy of Noteworthy Composer and General MIDI to hear playbacks.
But! I also have a lifetime of appreciating music (though who doesn't?), and my imagination extends to the world of music very naturally. I compose a fair amount of musics, and I try to remind myself that it would sound a little bit better if I dropped a few hundred dollars on nicer software. It doesn't come easily for me like writing words does, and, to be honest, my music is not all that great, but I enjoy writing it and I've been slowly getting better over the years.
With prose, I rarely get writer's block. But with music, it can hit me like a brick wall. Last night, after my contribution to the Josh Is a Dick thread, I forewent my intention to do paid work and spent the entire night composing twenty seconds of music that sound fucking great. (And it's not only twenty seconds long, but sixteen channels deep. This is a work for symphony orchestra.) By the end of the night my ears hurt, my eyes were strained, I had a headache, and my stomach was disgruntled from nothing but coffee, chili, and soda. I had made no money and my mind was turned to mush. But I had achieved some of the best-sounding MIDI squawks I'd ever written, and I'd done it from scratch. (It's amazing how an entire piece of music can derive from a metaphor that fits into a single measure.)
I watched the moonset, the sunrise, and went to bed. (We usually keep nighttime hours here.) This afternoon I woke up, refreshed and all that, and, after contributing my latest to the Josh Is a Dick thread, I gathered my wits and set to work on my composition.
Brick. Friggin'. Wall. I've spent three hours for no gains whatsoever. Nothing. Not a single measure. I've written, erased, written, erased--usually I don't erase but with this there's just no alternative. Stuck stuck stuck. Grrr, etc.