So there's only a few things in the world that excite me to such a degree that I lose sleep; music and God tend be the biggest ones. And cheese, but I digress. Tonight I went and saw Rose Polenzani in concert for the...oh...3rd time this year. It was the best Rose concert I've seen so far (out of 5 total...it might be 6, I can't remember right now) because she had an ensamble cast and seemed so relaxed and happy to be there...and Jammin' Java is such a cool place for shows. I've had the pleasure to spend time with her in the past, and I must say that her music is fantastic but I enjoyed her much more as a person, simply because there's an intensity to one-on-one conversation that cannot be mirrored in melody. Interactions wins out anyday against monologues. But she's kind of become a friend in passing, ya know? But again, I am way off track. It got me thinking about music in general, because of how emotionally high and exhausted I get after concerts. Music is such an unknown--I feel like exploring the depths to lyrics, melodies and harmonies is as much of an adventure as exploring the tombs of Egypt...even if what is being found resides within oneself. It requires such preciseness in some forms, but also contains the unpredictability and volitality that a stick of dynamite would add to the previous metaphor.
I myself write songs--not necessarily for any commerical success, but rather for the release of it. Some people exercise to release stress; I write songs. I should correct myself: I write lyrics. I am terrible at writing music. However my friend is good at that and terrible at lyrics, so we see the begining to a beautiful friendship. Last week I gave her a "few" songs to work with--I believe I ended up giving her something like 30 songs, but it just provides choices, right? Either way I'm adjusting slowing to someone else pouring over my words to the degree that I do--I never feel like a song is done so it's difficult to show a work in progress to someone. Regardless, I am rambling and there appears no end in sight.
Moral of the story: Music is in itself a great and powerful mystery, a Rose by any other name is a friend, and I'm a control freak even with my own creations.
