scribblechic

I rebel against organized religion, but find it impossible to deny the power of faith when choirs sing.  In contrast, the haunting beauty of a sole voice against a backdrop of silence is no less humbling.  Instrumental or vocal, I reach for the fluid language of music when lost for words.  In a moment of melancholy, a melody transcends time and I am flooded with sentiment for days long past.  Like a child seeking the security of a mother’s embrace, I long to crawl inside a thick, rich sound to keep sadness at bay.  Music bubbles effervescently from a place within me in moments of joy; my spirit celebrating with the grace of a small child clanging pots and pans.  The music is not mine, their authors are strangers to me, but their lovers are my friends.

Tagged: Music