THE POWER OF MUSIC

Today's post is from a work in progress, exploring "what I have learned" in my 76 years.

Music has the power to transport us to a different place, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  Sometimes it is the lyrics and/or story, and other times the melody or the voice that can take us back in time, inciting vivid memories of people, places, and events.  We are pulled into the world of the heart and soul and lifted above life’s daily fray.  I find comfort, inspiration, and encouragement when I allow the music to enter deep within me.

Music can transform loneliness into solitude, grief into sweet sadness, and hopelessness and despair into resolve and determination.  It can evoke sad, and joyful memories, and has the potential to touch the entire range of our emotions. I like to hear Pavarotti’s voice fill the room when I’m working in the studio or cooking pasta, even though I have no idea what he is saying.  Not only is he a silent (or not so silent) link to my mother who loved his music, but there are times when the sound of his voice seems to belong with my work.

I know nothing about the craft of music and cannot discern or appreciate all the variations and nuances that transform noise into music.  My taste is very eclectic, determined entirely by the emotional response it evokes in me.  It is not unusual for me to be totally clueless regarding the lyrics in a song that I like, but this does not prevent me from enjoying the music and creating my own.

I have learned the value of taking the time to sit in the stillness of my room and allow the music to work its magic on my soul.

THE MAN IN BLACK, and other friends I never knew

 

The following journal entry was written in response to the death of Johnny Cash, but the sentiment applies equally to the other friends I have lost. I have mourned the loss of these artists whose work has, in ways I cannot explain, inspired me to pursue my own creative dreams. Their music, their voices, their stories, all reach deep into a place within me that unleashes sentiments and will that were previously unfamiliar to me. I miss them dearly.

Harry Chapin, John Lennon, John Denver, Johnny Cash, Jerry Orbach, and now,
Luciano Pavarotti.

9-13-03

Amy called me at 7:30 in the morning to tell me Johnny Cash died, and sadness and melancholy quietly settled in and accompanied me for the rest of the day. The man whose music has been so much a part of my life for over 25 years is gone, and I feel like I have lost a friend. I saw him perform twice in my life, but never met him.  He was present to me in his music, looming larger than life, representing what I admired - strength, independence, sensitivity, and creativity, a fragile and vulnerable man, taking life on his own terms. In my mind, the man in black felt the worlds pain, and responded to it with love, for only love could allow someone to create such an abundant body of work, spanning generations and cultural divides, as his has done.

Whether or not Johnny Cash really possessed these attributes is immaterial, what matters is that through his music and his life they were made real, and shared with me and countless others. .

His music encompasses wide range of emotional experiences, but the common denominator is the evocation of all that is human and personal. There is nothing abstract in his songs, only the presence of the personal, and I admired and respected him for that. His music makes me feel what I want to feel.

Johnny Cash was a man who successfully pursued a creative life, doing what he wanted to do, on his own terms. For that he was my hero.