Why does music exist? The only answer I can come up with is that it’s the most effective way to communicate the transcendent. I can’t provide you statistical evidence to back up this claim. What I can do is ask you to attend a live performance of your favorite band, and then tell me how hard you cried when they played your favorite song.
In other words, tell me how your communion went with the divine, the mystical, the unifying idea, the Self, or God. Oh, and while you’re with Him, tell Him how tremendously, staggeringly, overwhelmingly grateful I am to have music in my life. There is no thing I love more than music. Nothing on the planet compares to music and how it makes me feel. What spiritual advances we’ve made because of music…I’ll never have the capacity to understand.
How ‘musical’ our creative work is, the musicality of it…this is the only standard by which we should measure our creative work. This means that the only task of the creator (to create something) teeters so close to impossibility it may as well be considered so. Music is the pinnacle of beauty. Reaching any pinnacle, any highest peak, demands a sacrifice of blood, focus, comfort, and any of the ‘lower’ qualities in us. All creative “blocks”, I think, stem from an inability to create something musical. A writer who doesn’t like what she’s written dislikes her writing for lack of musicality. Character development, tone, pacing – do it all poorly and the reader won’t even notice as long as you’ve written musically.