Suffering is optional...

My mother used to tell me I had to suffer to be beautiful. Usually, she said this as she tugged at my tangled hair. If I even whimpered, she hit me on the head with the brush. Suffering was not optional. It was an invitation only event. Suffice it to say, my daughter never got that bit of wisdom from me. Not even when her hair wound up in a tangled rat's nest at the nape of her neck, and took an hour of patient plucking to sort out. Now, in music appreciation, we are talking about composers, and many of them did seem to have to suffer to be creative. How strange is that. Chopin is a wonderful example. He lived with tuberculosis, and died from it at 39, yes, but he also had crippling stage fright and preferred only to perform his brilliant compositions in small gatherings. Whereas Liszt, that lion-maned matinee idol, turned his piano to better display his profile to his adoring audiences. Yet, he also took clerical vows later in his long life (an exception to most composer's lifespans), and had a fascination with the diabolical. OK, probably these people (notice I did not say men, there actually were some women composing, too) had the kind of soul I carry around with me, a tender, wounded little soul. I think that is the underlying fount of creativity, that desire to express in some way what in going on beneath the heart. So mayber suffering is mandatory when the inevitable pain intrudes, if one is to birth something of incredible beauty capable of touching other souls? Like a Chopin nocturne, full of yearning.