The Music Within

I think I’d be hard pressed to find someone for whom music doesn’t have the power to move them. By this point in my life you’d think I wouldn’t be so amazed at how much a song can instantly bring me back in time. or express something that  I haven’t been able to articulate myself, or elicit emotions long forgotten – good, bad, and  everything in between. It’s so, so much more than just pure entertainment. Obviously, there are some pieces of music that affect me more than others, but as I’m sitting here now, flying home from a business trip and a bit hung over from last night’s dinner celebration, trying to clear too many emails in my work inbox, I was just stopped cold when a piece on my CLASSICAL playlist made me go from the mindset of a 44 year business woman to that of the innocent 5 year old who’s still inside. 

It’s  Guitar Concerto in D Major, 2^nd Movement by Vivaldi. (Don’t I sound super intellectual when I tell you that I’m not only listening to classical music, but that I know the name of the movement? And that I correctly used the term “movement” when not referring to something my bowel might do? Sorry, back to my point....) 

From the first note I can feel my blood pressure drop and a warm sense of comfort and calm come over me. It happens wherever, whenever, however I hear it. Every, single, time. I also instantly get an image in my head of a beautiful flower, from stem to petals. dripping its dew seemingly in time with the guitar plucks of the piece. Am I that creative, that connected to classical works to have created this metaphor of imagery all on my own? Oh, please, have we met? No, no, I’m just not that deep and philosophical. I’m not sure if I should be ashamed or proud to admit this, but that is the scene created by Sesame Street back in the early 70’s, and it is indelibly etched in my mind. As I was growing up, I rarely had a chance to hear this, and didn’t exactly seek out classical as my go to music. Joan Jett, Def Leopard, Bon Jovi, Salt ‘n’ Pepa…much more my speed during my formative years. But on the rare occasions I did hear it, I was instantly back to that little girl, entranced and calmed by the music and flower. Recently, joyfully, I found the clip online, here.  

I had forgotten about the fact that the flower was revealed to be growing in the cracks of a city building, but it makes perfect sense to me now as to why the whole thing made such an impression. The calming music and the pretty flower subtly and strongly thriving against the backdrop of the crazy fast-paced city life.  It was such a beautiful and simple way of saying to young Julie “look, kid, life isn’t always pretty, but if you look hard enough, you can always find something that will make you smile. See this flower? It’s a fucking miracle that this thing surviving in a city clouded in a constant haze of 1970’s smog. So stop your worrying about whatever life throws your way and grow from it!” Now maybe that's now how I interpreted it back then, but whatever they did, it worked. 40+ years later, whenever I need a little calm in my day, this is the piece of music I seek out first.  

Kudos, Sesame Street. Not only have you given me the gift of peace and perspective, you managed to do it without the use of my beloved Cookie Monster. Bravo.

As I’m finishing up this post, my CLASSICAL playlist has ended, and my iPod has moved on to the next playlist - COLLEGE. The first song that’s just come on is the Fraternity Song by 2 Live Crew. Just as Vivaldi brought me back to my innocence, in my head I’m now back in my apartment at William Paterson College, smiling at the memory of dancing and singing along with my roommates and friends, probably a little (read, a lot) drunk. "Fuck, the Pi Lam! Fuck, fuck the Pi Lams!" A classic in it's own right. Sort of. Definitely not the same kind of lovely sentiment that Sesame Street and Vivaldi evoked in me, but what can I say, I’m a complex woman with eclectic taste who appreciates the peaceful sound of classical guitar just as much as the use of the word "fuck" in her music. And really, who doesn't?

Blogfully yours,

Julie