The Dispatch #23

Gigs, golden retrievers, and the chaotic act of making things

You know that moment at a concert, when the crowd comes together as one pulsing organism, spotlights from the stage find your face, warm and aching, and the band plays that one song that untethers your feet from the floor, and you forgive the man in front of you who dropped an eggy boff, and his mate who is too tall and should be stood further back, and the woman next to you who spilt her vodka soda on your suede jacket, then the drummer plays a fill that gives you goosebumps, and the band do a three-part harmony that sends your soul to the upper limits of the atmosphere, and you feel it, in your gut, that in this one brief, fleeting moment, everything is going to be okay, all those silly little worries about work, or money, dissolve, because in this one moment, you have never felt more of a reason and gratitude to be alive?

You know the one?

On Friday night, I got last-minute tickets to see one of my favourite bands. I could hardly believe my luck that they were playing at the student union in Glasgow, capacity: 900. Surely not? I thought to myself. They should be selling out the Hydro! But here they were, playing and singing their little hearts out in Glasgow’s West End, over from Long Island, NY, on their European tour.

It got me re-thinking about the importance of culture in society. Particularly, music. Which, like a great film or work of art, has the ability for one short moment to put you in one place: ✨the moment✨.

It’s a place most of us don’t get to live in; always ten steps ahead, thinking about what to cook for dinner, that board report that needs delivering by the EOW, or the dream life we’re working so hard to achieve.

And it’s a two-way street.

Because losing yourself in the flow of doing does just the same thing. Whether that’s playing the trumpet or gardening, it puts you in the present moment. And how often do we get to exist there?

I have to remind myself that while I’m writing a book with the end goal of getting it published, I can’t forget to enjoy the process as it happens. Even if my boyfriend has (in an act of either genius or cruelty) promised that I can get a dog when I get a book deal.

Finding time for creativity, however, is not always easy.

At the start of the week, my body miraculously woke me up naturally at 6am, and I sprang out of bed and did an hour of writing before work. Oh, I was SO SMUG about it. Look at me! This week I’m going to finish the book! I thought to myself. Fool. The next morning, my period, having apparently not finished with me, came back for an encore. I spent two days on the verge of sticking my head in an oven. The rest of the week has run away from me (a busy week at work and a heatwave to try and make the most of), meaning my writing has fallen to the wayside.

Sorry, but they’ll kick me out of Scotland if I don’t get out and enjoy the sun

We can’t have it all, all of the time. I’m learning this. It’s a bloody hard adjustment after taking two years off to travel and write. Something has always got to give. This weekend it’s the house. It shall have to remain in a state of disarray because I’m dedicating my hours of freedom to my book.

The irony isn’t lost on me that I’m writing an essay about prioritising creativity while my own creative practice currently looks like a dropped lasagne. But showing up, even if not every day, even in small bursts, is enough to stoke the creative flame burning inside of me!

Don’t worry, that golden retriever will be mine one day.

In today’s society, culture and creativity are not valued enough. This is not news.

But standing in the student union on Friday night, watching musicians in flow state and being in flow state by proxy, I can attest that art is perhaps the most vital thread binding and sustaining humankind.

I must not forget this.

Luckily, on Substack and this little corner of the internet, we celebrate it together ALL THE TIME. And fuck, I love it.

So, in case you needed the gentle reminder to pick up that paintbrush, or guitar that’s gathering dust – do it. Book yourself into the theatre or a gig at your local venue. Pull a sickie and spend the day doing potato block prints. You’ll be all the better for it.

What are you working on currently? How are you fitting it into your busy schedule?

Oh! And the band I saw were The Lemon Twigs! Check them out on Spotify.

Lots of love,