I don’t know what it is about music, but it’s the only non-violent way I’ve found to tame my fire. I have other hobbies of course, I write, I dance with fire and I’ll try anything once, but music has always been there. I can’t remember a time in my life where music wasn’t a big part of my big picture.
When I think about music the analogy with fire come up quite often, referring to both an inner fire and exterior one. On the one hand every musician has a burning passion inside them.
For a musician, just like any other artist, this passion is intertwined with the expression of emotion. This connection has had and continues to have a profound effect on my life which I am glad for. Just as a fire dancer must be comfortable with fire and the possibility of getting burnt, in order to properly express emotion and move people, the musician must be in tune with his/her emotions and comfortable with those that can be profoundly painful.
With regards to the exterior analogy my thoughts are as follows. I remember looking at fire as a young child and not being able to comprehend what it is exactly. It’s not liquid, solid or gas so it’s no form of matter I’m aware of. It’s just energy. Even armed with the knowledge that it’s’ the excess energy being released from some kind of reaction, my mind still struggles to comprehend. I can say exactly the same thing of music. Theoretically we know that music is pressure differences in the air that entice our inner ear. However comprehending that these little pressure changes can move an adult to tears is a whole different ball park, and even though I have been playing music for as long as I can remember being able to talk, it still boggles my mind.
There are days when I wake up and I’m acutely aware that the first thing I experience is a sound. Every evening I’m lulled to sleep by the same thing that wakes me up and in between is a symphony which we compose however we wish to.
Music is the scaffolding upon which I build my reality within the universe and allowing music to play through me allows me to explore this scaffolding in an ecstatic dance. When the music reaches its climax, in those moments I float above the scaffolding only to look down and see that it’s not there.
It’s something I’ve come to realise recently. In Music’s ability to rise out of nothingness it allows the possibility of oneness and totality. A sad song can mean different things to different people. It will trigger different memories and inevitably be a slightly different experience for each individual. This is not because it is none of them, but because it is all of them. This is how it ties everything together. I can allow music to flow in front of one hundred people and evoke one hundred memories.