I love music. Music speaks to me, it soothes my soul, it cheers my spirit, and can set the tone for my day. The sound of music can also move me to tears. I love to sit back and relax with my ipod and headset, close my eyes and just concentrate on the words being sung. I appreciate the stories told, the emotions revealed, the humor expressed, and the hurt declared all in a matter of sentences.
I enjoy listening as the instruments themselves express a feeling and tell a story. How the strings of a guitar can echo a sentiment. How the keys of a piano, stroked in a certain way, can reveal a feeling. You can tell the mood of the songwriter just by listening to how the musical notes are played out on the page and being performed. How the performer caresses the keys, and strums the strings can tell a story without words.
My first memory of my love of music started when my parents took me to see the movie, “The Sound of Music” when I was about four years old. My mom purchased the album, which we still have, and I would sit in an old ranch oak rocker and listen for hours. Actually, this is still one of my favorite movies and I still can “sing” all the songs. Rather, I still know all the words to the songs. To say that I sing them is a disgrace to the musical community. I cannot carry a tune in a bucket…but I can make a joyful noise.
I always wanted to be Julie Andrews after that movie, and spin around in circles on that Austrian Alp with my arms outstretched and singing “The hills are alive with the sound of music…” Of course, being me, after a couple of spins, I would take an ungraceful plunge and roll down that steep mountaintop…renaming the song, “The hills are alive with the sound of screaming!”
Today I am thankful for music and the part it plays in my life.