Undressing the Muse
In honor of Sonny Rollins on hearing of his death this week
When I heard that the great Sonny Rollins had died earlier this week, my mind went straight to one of my favorite poems—“Undressing the Muse” by Sebastian Matthews.
There’s something that Rollins—and the poet—knew that all of us who make things need to remember: you have to step off the stage and into the woodshed. You have to stand on the bridge in the wind and play until your voice breaks open into something new. To undress the muse. To dismantle what you think you know about your own sound.
Sebastian’s poem has been a touchstone for me for many years. It is one of those pieces I return to again and again, the way you return to a piece of music that somehow knows more about you than you do.
Thank you for writing it, Sebastian. And thank you, Sonny, for showing us all what devotion looks like.
Undressing the Muse
When Sonny Rollins walked onto that bridge
to play his saxophone to the wind
he was stepping off the stage
and into the woodshed.
It wasn’t a failure of nerve, of course,
nor was it only a deepening
of his craft. He was breaking
a voice apart
and refashioning it.
He was undressing his muse.
That’s what I want now:
less stage, more bridge
(the wind steady and relentless)
and room to go about
the private business of becoming—
nothing more, not a single iota less—
who I am meant to be.
And if that’s asking
too much, then allow me to rest
a moment, and when I wake
let me be refreshed.’
This poem has been on my desktop for several years now. I read it periodically. And that photo-just wow! I'm sorry to hear of his death. Thank you.
Thank you, Patti
I especially love this line, 'the private business of becoming—
nothing more, not a single iota less—
who I am meant to be.'