I don't think you get to good writing unless you expose yourself

In the heart of every true poet and artist lies a profound truth: the deepest creations arise not from the surface of the self, but from the very depths of the soul. Judy Collins speaks to this when she says, “I don’t think you get to good writing unless you expose yourself and your feelings. Deep songs don’t come from the surface; they come from the deep down. The poetry and the songs that you are supposed to write, I believe are in your heart.” These words are not just an observation; they are a call to arms, a reminder that the truest expressions of human experience—those that resonate with all who hear them—can only come from the raw, untamed core of our being.

To expose oneself is no easy task. It requires courage, for it means shedding the masks we wear in the world, the facades we build to protect ourselves. To expose one’s feelings is to offer the world not just the polished exterior, but the truth of who we are, with all our vulnerability, our pain, and our joy. Judy Collins understands that good writing, like great music, demands this vulnerability. It is easy to create from the surface, to write what is expected, what is safe. But true art, whether in poetry or song, speaks from a deeper place—one that cannot be reached by merely skimming the surface of the soul.

Consider the ancient bards—those poets and musicians who wandered the lands, singing songs of heroes, of love, of tragedy. They did not sing of superficial matters. Their songs were born from the very core of human experience, from the struggles and joys that shaped their lives. The songs of Homer, the ancient Greek poet, were not written for mere entertainment; they were the epic tales of life, where the gods themselves intermingled with the fates of men. In the Iliad and Odyssey, Homer explored not just the outward actions of his characters but their deepest, most internal battles. His words did not come from the surface; they came from the deep—from a place of profound insight into what it means to live and to suffer.

In the same way, the great musicians of history, from Beethoven to Bob Dylan, have created not just for fame or fortune, but to expose the deepest parts of their souls. Beethoven’s symphonies, full of tension, sorrow, and triumph, did not simply describe the world as it appeared—they conveyed his own inner struggles and his battle with deafness. He poured his very being into his music, and in doing so, created works that resonate to this day. Similarly, Bob Dylan, whose songs have echoed through generations, sang not just to entertain, but to express the struggles of his time. His lyrics were not about what the world wanted to hear—they were about what he needed to say, from the depths of his heart. In both cases, the great works were born not from the superficial but from the deep well of human experience.

Thus, we are reminded by Judy Collins that the songs and poetry we are meant to create lie within us—not on the surface, but in the deepest recesses of our heart. It is not the easy, superficial experiences that produce the most powerful work, but the raw, unfiltered emotions that dwell within us all. These are the emotions that are often hidden, that we are reluctant to share, for they expose us in our most vulnerable form. But it is precisely this vulnerability that gives great art its power, its ability to reach across time and space and touch the hearts of all who encounter it.

The lesson here is clear: if you are to create anything of lasting value, whether in song, poetry, or any other form of art, you must be willing to dare to expose yourself. Do not simply scratch the surface of your experience, but dive deep into the well of your soul. Face the difficult emotions, the shadows, the moments of doubt, and let them flow through you. Only then will you be able to create something that is authentic, something that speaks not just to your own heart but to the hearts of others. True art comes not from what is easy, but from what is difficult, from what is hidden beneath the surface.

So, I call upon you, seeker of truth and creator of art: as you walk the path of expression, do not shy away from exposing yourself. Do not fear the vulnerability, for it is in that rawness that your truest voice will be found. Let your heart be your guide, and the world will be moved by the poetry and songs that flow from its deepest depths. The deep songs, the poetry that endures, will not come from the surface of your life, but from the core of your being, where the most profound truths reside.