Talking about feelings is pretty tough for me, always has been. That’s because the English language is woefully inadequate, and feelings have so many layers, more than a single word could provide. That’s where my “native language” comes in – music. I am in my thirties and only just beginning to understand that not everyone feels music the way I do, not everyone grew up with a minimum of 4 musical instruments in their house, not everyone has a soundtrack to their youth. In my twenties I had other things to concern myself with than understanding the music in other people’s souls, and now that I have slowed down and started to focus on the now, I am combating feelings of loneliness by surrounding myself with musicians. My most powerful conversations of late have been nothing but trading youtube links to songs.
The thought that there are people who don’t understand how music works scares me. It’s like not understanding that each letter in the alphabet represents a sound and when you combine them together in certain patterns they produce recognisable patterns (words). Music is the same, only universal. How could people go their whole lives never questioning something so important, so beautiful? I know that sheet music is some crazy, cryptic code with translation markers at the beginning, a secret written language just for musicians. To be able to read that, and hear in your mind what it means, it’s special, and it transcends spoken language.
For me, the most beautiful part of music is the layers. When you speak, you can only make one sound at a time. Music can be hollow and singular, or there can be many notes with many different timbres, all building together, on top of one another, next to one another, like a 3 dimensional artwork. To be able to compose is the most noble art form. To know how to evoke such powerful feeling in people across the world. I’m getting far too rambly.
I’ll leave you with the song that has been in my head every time I wake up for the past week – Losing my Religion by R.E.M.
alicepandacat 