During that time I wrote the script of the written word sections of the First Branch which left the music and songs to follow. Since then I’ve been working on the first song. I always find the first song of an album the hardest to write. It’d been quite a while since the song-writing gene had been active. The last song I wrote was for The Green Album, and before that it was Time Machine from Sabbat. The very first song (apart from any intro music) is the encounter between Pwyll and Arawn in the forest glade and I’d had the title of the song, and the chorus, for a few weeks, but those opening lines…they have to be right and draw me into the scene. So I’ve been spending a little time between each session in meditation opening to the spirit of the song that wants to be written. I’ve been wanting to make these Y Mabinogi albums for nearly 20 years so it’s really important to me that it’s right, that they do the tales honour. No surprise then that I’ve been placing quite a lot of pressure on myself, which as many a creative person knows, is not always the best thing to do. We need the Awen to flow, not forced.
So last week I found myself once more in front of the computer screen, guitar in hand, working on this song. I had done nothing differently, but that day something shifted within me. I distinctly felt it happen. The second verse fell on the page, complete, and right. As I looked at the words I’d just written I knew something had happened – I’d felt it before when I wrote Merlin am I, Brighid, and a good few other songs. It doesn’t happen every time, but when it does you know that you weren’t entirely responsible for the words you’d just written. It feels more like the song wants to be written, and you are just the conduit to get it out into the world. As I played the song through I realised that, all along, it had been Arawn who had been singing. That he was telling his story of that meeting, the meeting of realms and of worlds. A moment, after which, nothing would ever be the same again.
I changed one word in the first verse, and everything suddenly made sense.
One more verse to write, and then I will see how the song fits in with the narrative of the story.
I think I know already.
Moments like that are a blessing. It feels like an approval from the Otherworld. A hand upon my shoulder, as the storyteller says in Iron from Stone, and with it I take a feeling that I’m on the right track. It pushes away those self-made dams, and allows the Awen to flow free once more.
The Journey is well and truly begun.