"If music be the food of love, play on." - Shakespear
I'm not an artsy sort of person. I couldn't draw a man to save my life, it boggles me how singers have these voices, and my last attempt to play an instrument ended rather quickly. I write from time to time, letting my mind seep out through my pen. But sometimes, when I'm alone, I prefer to dance.
Dancing is also a form of expression. Not as civil as writing is, not as unobtrusive, not as introverted. But it incorporates all of you - from your fingernails to your beating heart, from today's fears to last night's dreams. When the music has you, when you're possessed by it alone, nothing else matters any longer. Yes, music can possess. It can make you happy or sad, serious or lighthearted, calm or alarmed.
Some music is heavy like sadness, like a fog that enfolds you. And then you move because you must, willing every inch just barely.
Some music is light like a breeze from the sea, like dewdrops at dawn. And then you move because you're full of joy, because the sun is here and your feet are fleet.
Some music is strange like a landscape from across the world, like a brand new color. And then you move because you're not yourself, you're not at home - you're a queen in Arabia, an assassin in Japan, a beggar in Ireland.
Some music is like a battle, like a raging fire. And then you move because someone has to fight this war, and someone has to win it, and you have that power.
And last and rarest of all, there's music that almost makes you fly. Your mind disappears, and you become a part of it. At least, you do your best. But no matter how limber, graceful and energetic you are, you'll never be good enough, and that is as it should be. You might have been if you had a pair of wings, but mostly you don't, so you're left to try and prove yourself worthy.
Sometimes, once in a blue moon, it seems to me that I am.
Dancing is also a form of expression. Not as civil as writing is, not as unobtrusive, not as introverted. But it incorporates all of you - from your fingernails to your beating heart, from today's fears to last night's dreams. When the music has you, when you're possessed by it alone, nothing else matters any longer. Yes, music can possess. It can make you happy or sad, serious or lighthearted, calm or alarmed.
Some music is heavy like sadness, like a fog that enfolds you. And then you move because you must, willing every inch just barely.
Some music is light like a breeze from the sea, like dewdrops at dawn. And then you move because you're full of joy, because the sun is here and your feet are fleet.
Some music is strange like a landscape from across the world, like a brand new color. And then you move because you're not yourself, you're not at home - you're a queen in Arabia, an assassin in Japan, a beggar in Ireland.
Some music is like a battle, like a raging fire. And then you move because someone has to fight this war, and someone has to win it, and you have that power.
And last and rarest of all, there's music that almost makes you fly. Your mind disappears, and you become a part of it. At least, you do your best. But no matter how limber, graceful and energetic you are, you'll never be good enough, and that is as it should be. You might have been if you had a pair of wings, but mostly you don't, so you're left to try and prove yourself worthy.
Sometimes, once in a blue moon, it seems to me that I am.