I had forgotten just how much I enjoy listening to music. Simply sitting and listening to music.
Music has always been fairly prominent in my life. I grew up listening to "the Oldies" with my parents. I developed a healthy appreciation for a number of "old" groups: Journey, the Monkees, Kansas, The Who, REO Speedwagon, Toto, Asia, to only name a very few. My mother was also a country fan (my father was not) so on the rare occasions that she got to control the radio controls we listened to Garth Brooks, Trisha Yearwood, Faith Hill, Reba, Randy Travis, George Strait, Alan Jackson. And of course I developed a taste for a number of the artists who became popular during my own youth: the Backstreet Boys and N'Sync, Britney Spears, Savage Garden.
My tastes were fairly eclectic and they grew more so as I got older. I went from listening to what my parents listened to as a young child to listening to the more "popular" stations as a "tween." In high school I was introduced to a number of pieces from musicals and there was born my great love of musical theatre, which continued on into college. As did my love for certain movie scores and soundtracks--Braveheart, Lord of the Rings, Jurassic Park, Titanic. (Say what you want about the movie itself, the music is amazing.)
I started taking piano lessons in the 7th grade and while I never had the discipline to become very proficient at it, I did learn enough to plunk out the few songs that I liked well enough to really learn. In that, however, I learned that I did indeed love the sound of the piano and started listening to solo piano music.
It was in college that my love of music and my appreciation for its diversity really soared. I sang in the choir and somehow found myself, with no experience whatsoever, playing in the pep band. That led to a semester of playing percussion in the concert band as well. I started college as a music education major so the necessary classes exposed me to a lot of music (mostly classical) that I had not heard before. It was amazing; absolutely amazing. I discovered a deep love for Beethoven, his Moonlight Sonata being my favorite piece. After a fair amount of study in one of my classes, I was able to listen to a few bars of his 5th Symphony (duh-duh-duh-duh) and identify which exact part of the piece it was.
Everywhere I went, no matter what I was doing (working a job probably being the exception) I listened to music. I listened to music during music classes, I popped in my headphones and listened to music as I did homework. I had a playlist set for when I went out and walked or ran (cuz I actually exercised back then) and I had a number of soundtracks and mixed CD's in my car, just waiting to be blared with the windows down. Often, when I had some time to myself, I would lay in bed or sit out on the quad and just listen to music. I took such enjoyment from it that I didn't need to be doing anything else. I could just listen and it was a perfectly acceptable way to spend my time.
Somewhere along the line that changed. I quit listening to music regularly. Chaz and I got married, we had two kids and now my life revolves around Disney movies and Madden '11. It's not often that I control whatever electronic devices necessary to just listen to music and more particularly the music that I want to listen to, rather than the music that's going to keep everybody happy. (And I'm not just referring to my husband; my two year old's fairly adamant about what she wants to watch and/or listen to. It doesn't often coincide with what I want. And for anyone out there saying, be the adult, listen to what you want, she'll get over it--try listening to music for enjoyment while a two-year-old cries/fusses/whines/screams about it. Kind of defeats the purpose.)
For instance, when I would drive around Naperville, or take the four hour drive home from Naperville to Granite City, I would put in the soundtrack to Rent or Moulin Rouge or Jekyll and Hyde, blare it as loud as I might want it, and sing my lungs out. I knew the words to all the songs, I listened to them that often, and I would just sing and sing and sing. I don't do that anymore. And I'm not exactly sure why. I just haven't done it. One reason, I'm sure, is that it would drive Chaz absolutely bonkers. Not the me singing part (or at least he'd never openly admit it if it did) but the musical part. Listening to the soundtrack of Rent isn't really his thing.
Anyway, the point is, I've been writing lately. My sister got me hooked into doing this Camp NaNoWriMO thing where you try and write a novel in a month. So far it's going much better than I ever imagined. Not the point, though. The point is that while I've been writing, I've been listening to music. I normally do most of my writing between 9pm and midnight or so; it's after the girls are in bed and before Chaz gets home from work. So I "have the house" to myself. So I pull up Pandora and let the music play while I write. What I have found, especially the last couple of days, is that I will be writing and then I won't be. I'll simply be sitting there, listening to the music. Immersing myself in the melodies and harmonies, identifying the instruments used, admiring the tonality of someone's voice, singing along without realizing it. And when I catch myself and try to go back to writing, I find I can't really concentrate. The music is pulling at me and all I want to do is sit there, relax and listen. Enjoy.
I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed just listening to music. It really does bring me happiness, plain and simple happiness. Music. The universal language.
I'm going to start speaking it again, I think.
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