Music, my healer

October 22, 2014 § 6 Comments

A couple of weeks ago I walked into a local shopping centre and my heart skipped a beat. It was a Saturday morning, bristling with the hustle of crowds with weekend agendas, and yet I was completely entranced.

Because there, between two escalators, sat a man with an electric piano, his fingers dancing over the keys. Suddenly Saturday morning was serenity, not stress, and the tension of my working week began to leak away .

I wish I had the words to tell you what live music does to me. I get choked up at my children’s choir and orchestra concerts, because there’s just something about watching a small boy in long socks and flannel shorts play a rockin’ trumpet solo with his school jazz band, his feet dangling several inches above the floor.

When the notes from a real pipe organ swell and swirl through a wedding or funeral, I can barely breathe at the beauty of it all. The power of an orchestra in full flight suffuses me with liquid heat. When I sit in a dim corner at a small live music venue watching my favourite musicians sing and play together like they occupy one body, I go home with a stupid grin on my face, a grin so broad it keeps me awake till the wee hours.

Yes, I have music on my iPod and I can plug in my earphones and listen to it any time I like. But often it’s too clean, too sterile, too perfect. It lacks the grit, the authenticity, the creativity and humanity of a live performance, and that’s what I crave.

 

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