I went on a musical scavenger hunt tonight. My childhood was serenaded by the music of the time: the 80s. From the hair bands (how I loved Poison!) to the soft and mellow love songs of Chicago and Phil Collins. When I listen to these artists now, I cannot help but BE that lost girl in high school. I remember the time, the sounds of people's voices, the places, the smells, and the feelings-- good grief, the feelings! The distance between the events that caused such feelings and the present allows a sort of delicious wallowing, to feel the hurt, but at arm's length with the knowledge that things did, after all, get better. Like, better than I could have planned for myself at the time better.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
"There was a time some time ago when every sunrise..."
Music has a particular magic. If books allow escape, music enhances the current (or remembered) experience. If you're sad and you listen to sad songs, the feeling may be magnified somewhat, but ultimately, you feel empathy. Someone else has been this sad over this thing before, and look, they put their sorrow to music. Or if you're sad and you listen to upbeat, happy songs they can sometimes completely alter your mood.