Updated: Aug 16
Given that I've spent 10,000 hours over 34 years practising the piano; I'm in decade three of art collecting, worrying more about wall space than costs, and have written poetry and nonfiction prolifically over 26 years now -
I've realised that visual artists are driven to communicate, but don't know what it is they want to say, and often their message is hidden by private purchases.
Instrumentalists may only appeal to feelings, and there's an overriding neuroticism about that.
Poets and songwriters overlap, but poets are less likely to be commercial. That gives them license to write almost unfathomable word salads, which some people admire, not least because it offers a membership, that's in the form of an insistence that their brains can reach the same profound level of that of the poet. However, with music on the radio, etc., and the potential for riches, having breadth of connection is the usual songsmith's way.
Then there are writers. A new book from a bestselling author will sell quite well regardless, whether it's something like "The Satanic Verses", or Harry Potter, and everything between them. But when a fresh writer comes along, they can write about what's outside of them, which includes their potential readership, or what's within themselves: their personal realisations. If they want to sell, they might do the former. The bigger are the sales, for some of them, the bigger the ego is. But to write most artistically, is to maximize creative concentration. It's to risk ridicule, anger, or other frictions. It takes courage, insight, charity, energy, time, and WORDS; from within.
With my own 55 years of experiences, and being mindful of the last sentence; in terms of creativity, if I had to choose between my advanced piano playing, or my writing and what it implies, I'd keep my writing, because if one person could read my words, and avoid the sort of damnation on Earth that I experienced, which ironically produced my words; then my words should remain. Their potential is greater than any pianism.