sodom, south georgia - iron & wine
music amazes me.
for as long as i can remember it's been a part of my life. my person. one of my earliest memories is of banging away on a xylophone in the music room at malmo elementary school. some of my favourite baby pictures are the ones of little toddler me rocking out to raffi tapes on my dad's walkman. there's never been a time in my life that i've been without music. it's as ubiquitous in my memories as anything else. more than most.
music has always been there for me, through every emotion, occasion, experience, time of day, time of year...the list runs endlessly. it seems to be the closest thing to unconditional love that something inanimate could offer itself as. music is a shoulder to cry on when the shoulder isn't there. it's the fill-in best friend who'll scream and jump up and down with you for as long as you have the energy to scream and jump up and down. ecstatic or enraged, music doesn't care. music is there. everywhere. music makes us laugh, scream, cry, sigh, shiver. it sends chills through our bodies, and it warms us to our very soul. we write and sing songs of joy, freedom, pain, suffering, loss, love, life, death. and the world wouldn't be the same without it. life wouldn't be what it is. it would be incomplete.
and it's ours. every one of us. whether we hum along, whistle to ourselves, tap our feet, nod our heads, sing, play, write, imagine, or even remember a song that we loved years ago and thought we'd forgotten about, we're a part of it. and it of us.
and it probably won't ever end. if modern physical thory is as correct as it seems to be, every last bit of matter in the universe is made up of almost immeasurably tiny, planck-length strings, each vibrating in its unique mode. silly as it may sound, that's the music of the universe. and it makes up every last bit of us. of you.
you are music.
jh..
"And energy got its own will, and people think they make music still. But music is there without you or me, we just manipulate, for better or worse..." - Deltron 3030
"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." - Aldous Huxley
for as long as i can remember it's been a part of my life. my person. one of my earliest memories is of banging away on a xylophone in the music room at malmo elementary school. some of my favourite baby pictures are the ones of little toddler me rocking out to raffi tapes on my dad's walkman. there's never been a time in my life that i've been without music. it's as ubiquitous in my memories as anything else. more than most.
music has always been there for me, through every emotion, occasion, experience, time of day, time of year...the list runs endlessly. it seems to be the closest thing to unconditional love that something inanimate could offer itself as. music is a shoulder to cry on when the shoulder isn't there. it's the fill-in best friend who'll scream and jump up and down with you for as long as you have the energy to scream and jump up and down. ecstatic or enraged, music doesn't care. music is there. everywhere. music makes us laugh, scream, cry, sigh, shiver. it sends chills through our bodies, and it warms us to our very soul. we write and sing songs of joy, freedom, pain, suffering, loss, love, life, death. and the world wouldn't be the same without it. life wouldn't be what it is. it would be incomplete.
and it's ours. every one of us. whether we hum along, whistle to ourselves, tap our feet, nod our heads, sing, play, write, imagine, or even remember a song that we loved years ago and thought we'd forgotten about, we're a part of it. and it of us.
and it probably won't ever end. if modern physical thory is as correct as it seems to be, every last bit of matter in the universe is made up of almost immeasurably tiny, planck-length strings, each vibrating in its unique mode. silly as it may sound, that's the music of the universe. and it makes up every last bit of us. of you.
you are music.
jh..
"And energy got its own will, and people think they make music still. But music is there without you or me, we just manipulate, for better or worse..." - Deltron 3030
"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." - Aldous Huxley
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